Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 105: Entering the Hanlin Academy

The Ministry of Personnel official nodded and turned to leave.

Only after the carriage had disappeared down the alley did Xu Qing suddenly lunge forward and grab Su Ming's shoulders hard.

"Brother Su! Did you hear that? Hanlin Academy! Seventh-rank Compiler!"

He babbled incoherently, his eyes red, happier than if he had won the Ministry of Revenue post himself.

Su Ming could only force a rigid smile and let him shake him, while inside he felt ice-cold.

This official robe—truly hot to the touch.

Three days later, Su Ming stepped into that grand complex in the southeast corner of the imperial city for the first time as an official.

The Hanlin Academy.

Unlike the austere Ministry of Personnel office, there were no rows of soldiers and no hurried clerks here.

The academy gate was simple; even the gold paint on the signboard had flaked away in places.The moment he entered, the clamor of the outside world was completely cut off.

Towering ancient locust trees and sturdy cypress sliced the sky into small shards of blue. Sunlight filtered through the dense leaves, casting mottled shadows on the bluestone pathways that swayed gently with the breeze.

The air carried a unique scent: the age of old book paper, the deep fragrance of precious wood, the bitter clarity of ink cakes, all mixed to form a heavy atmosphere called "history."

It was too quiet.

Quiet enough to hear his own heartbeat, quiet enough to catch, faintly, the sound of pages being turned in a distant study.

This kind of silence was not peaceful; it pressed down like an invisible weight that made one afraid to breathe loudly.

Following directions, Su Ming crossed a stone bridge and arrived at a three-story pavilion named the Wenyuan Pavilion, where the compilers did their daily work.

He climbed the steps; the wooden stair creaked "squeak" from frequent use.

The second floor opened into a large, airy hall.

Dozens of black-lacquered writing desks stood in neat rows, and behind each desk sat a figure.

Some buried their heads in towering stacks of scrolls, some held brushes and wrote in concentration, and some sat with eyes closed, thoughts drifting elsewhere.

This was the "brain center" of the Great Xing Dynasty.

Su Ming's arrival was like a pebble dropped into a still pond.

Almost the instant he stepped into the hall, a dozen gazes from all directions aimed at him, impassive but piercing.

Those looks were intensely complicated.

A few elderly men in the front rows, hair white, glanced at him briefly and then withdrew their eyes. Their looks were like watching a falling leaf, full of worldly detachment and utterly calm.

But the younger colleagues, roughly Su Ming's age, were more interesting.

Curiosity, scrutiny, unhidden jealousy, and a trace of contempt showed in their eyes.

Su Ming knew his identity was no longer a secret.

Second division, tenth place; Zhou Wenhai's disciple; a penniless scion with no backing.

Those labels stuck together made him destined to be an outlier.

He belonged neither to the circles of established families with patrons behind them, nor could he blend with the veteran Hanlin who had clawed their way up by seniority.

"You're Su Ming?"

A slightly sharp voice sounded.

Su Ming turned toward it and saw a young man wearing the same official robe, arrogance written on his face, leaning against a desk with arms folded and casting a sidelong glance at him.

Qian Bin from the

had been assigned to the

a

but loud

Bin, enough. Newcomer arrived, don't scare

moderate voice came from

something at a desk beside Qian Bin; without looking up he offered a

actually fixed Su Ming as the frightened, weak

Lesson One of workplace bullying. Disciple, steady yourself, don't get dragged along. Remember your newbie role:

not to notice the scorn behind Qian Bin's words; his face retained that awkward, rustic earnestness of a countryside youth entering a grand scene for the first

Qian jokes. I am shallow in learning and rely on luck. In the future at the academy, I will need the guidance and support

spoke with immense sincerity and humbled posture, as if he truly believed he had stumbled in

Bin's ready store of ridicule met only cotton

choked on his words, snorted coldly, turned his head, and ignored

wearing the sixth-rank Reader-in-Attendance robe stepped out

scanned the room, his

the new compiler, Su

Reader Guo." Su Ming hurriedly stepped

Reader Guo was the immediate supervisor responsible for managing

a nasal "hmm," a bureaucratic

Ming up and down; the look wasn't that of evaluating

fairly tidy. As for your essays, they are skilled but lack spirit. Young man, don't always try to cite the classics and repeat others' words. The Hanlin Academy needs genuine talent who can ease the emperor's burdens, not bookish

immediately undermined the "stability" Su Ming had

curled into a gleeful,

Guo." Su Ming bowed his head even lower, displaying

books beside him he pulled out the thickest volume and tossed it onto the empty

one in the hall, closest to the door; freezing in winter, scorching in summer, with people

it. "Since you're new, start from the basics. Read through this Da Xing Compendium, then hand-copy it three times. Use Hanlin-standard characters, stroke by stroke, with no

Copy books?

Three times?

contained at least a hundred thousand characters; copying it three times meant nearly half

test of character; it was pure harassment, a show of authority to knock

others' faces showed an eager anticipation of a

He's treating us like copy machines!" Lin

Su Ming's heart sank.

head, his

Reader Guo, his tone sincere. "My foundation

wholehearted

blocked midstream. He stared at

kid actually foolish, or

a long moment, then waved his sleeve, snorted, and returned to

"Ungrateful."

the heavy Da Xing Compendium like a treasure and

could feel those complicated gazes resting on his back for a long time before gradually

sat and spread the paper, ground his ink, and picked up

meticulous and focused, with

on the white xuan

the wide window lattices, bathing the tranquil Wenyuan Pavilion in

writing, packed up,

Qian Bin walked past Su Ming's desk, he deliberately paused to glance at what Su

was

kid really was

a

floor of Wenyuan Pavilion held only

He was still copying.

sunset vanished did he stop, gently working his

out like a

He "heard."

in the archives, an old

floor, in the stacks,

that Reader Guo had not

was another