Chapter 7: Technology and Harsh Additives

Bai Yu never expected that coming here to obtain a "certificate" would grant him the opportunity to draft a "tribute" piece.

"For the sake of rigorous composition, may I ask the identity of the noble old gentleman who has suffered the loss of his lion cat?" Bai Yu feigned professionalism as he followed up with a question.

After a moment of thought, Clerk Shi replied, "He is an elderly Daoist priest who practices immortality."

Cross-referencing this with the data provided by his AI, Bai Yu grasped the situation immediately. Was the current Jiajing Emperor not exactly an "elderly Daoist priest who practices immortality"?

Anyone who frequently uses AI for writing, especially fiction, knows that a common flaw in AI-generated text is a lack of emotion and vividness. Of course, for Bai Yu, this was not an issue. The point of his demonstration was whether he *could* write, not necessarily how well. However, if he wanted to show off without exceptional literary talent, he would need to find another angle.

Thus, Bai Yu decided to deploy some "high-tech heavy machinery" to give Clerk Shi a bit of a shock.

After setting the topic, Clerk Shi instructed, "I have official business to attend to. Go to the reception hall; there are writing implements there. You have one hour to submit your draft."

Write? How could he write? Since transmigrating, Bai Yu had no time to practice calligraphy, and he didn't even have the money to buy brushes, ink, paper, or inkstones!

Bai Yu quickly responded, "Wait, Master Clerk! Why would it take an hour? I can compose it within ten paces."

"Pfft!" Bai Yiesa, who was watching from the sidelines for amusement, couldn't help but laugh. "Trying to imitate the 'seven-pace poem'? Your imitation is far too clumsy!"

With a clear goal in mind, Bai Yu ignored the interference from the useless bystander and began his performance. Right there under the eaves of the Clerk’s Office, Bai Yu walked five paces east, then turned and walked five paces back. Exactly ten paces, no more, no less.

Standing still, he held his head high, looked at the virtual interface in his vision, and began to chant in a clear voice. Shame and embarrassment did not exist for someone with his mental fortitude.

"Oh, miraculous beast! Born of the essence of the earth, manifesting with leonine markings and brilliant radiance. With snowy claws and starry eyes, a celestial breed of the mythical Suanni; with leopard-like patterns, inheriting the profound essence of the White Tiger..."

The length was neither long nor short—five hundred characters, just right.

Clerk Shi: "..."

Truly shocking! The speed at which this young man composed was terrifying! This was not mere colloquial speech, but a piece of rhythmic prose with strict formal requirements, and he had actually composed it in ten paces! If he hadn't come up with the topic on the spot, ensuring no prior preparation, he would never have believed it.

***

Amidst Clerk Shi's lingering look of shock, Bai Yu completed his first "public manifestation of divinity" with great satisfaction. He relaxed his posture and couldn't help but glance at Bai Yiesa nearby. I have long found you—whoever you are, woman or eunuch—an eyesore. Do you know what "high-tech" really is? Let me give you a taste of what it feels like to be slapped in the face right on the spot!

However, Bai Yu's gaze met empty air; no one was there anymore. At some point—perhaps halfway through his performance—that creature had already fled.

"A sore loser! Is this what a sore loser looks like?" Bai Yu almost chased after them to demand an explanation, but he remembered that this was the headquarters of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and he was but a small fry, so he had to let it go.

By now, Clerk Shi had recovered from his shock and returned to his senses. Upon closer inspection, he realized the piece was a pile of flowery language, lacking genuine emotion, feeling somewhat mechanical and stitched together. Yet, the theme and format were flawless, and the motif of "transforming the lion into a dragon" was truly excellent. Furthermore, it was composed in ten paces; how much quality could one expect at such speed?

Finally, Clerk Shi sighed in genuine admiration, "Fast! Truly fast! Of all the people I have met, you are the fastest!"

Although Bai Yu was a bit sensitive to the word "fast," he could only respond positively, "You are too kind, Master Clerk."

After pondering for a while, Clerk Shi felt that this piece could be submitted directly to his superiors, saving him the effort of composing it himself. Anyone who writes daily knows how delightful it feels to slack off once in a while. Besides, he couldn't compete with those monstrously talented experts anyway; having a draft to submit was enough.

Clerk Shi said gently to Bai Yu, "Recite it once more so I can record it."

Bai Yu understood; the Clerk wanted to use him as a ghostwriter. Looking at the virtual screen, he slowly recited the article again, allowing the Clerk to transcribe it onto the manuscript paper. To get ahead, being a ghostwriter was nothing to be ashamed of! Many famous scholars of the day served as retainers to great figures—which, plainly speaking, meant they were ghostwriters.

After the Clerk finished transcribing, Bai Yu tentatively asked, "As for my certificate, may it be issued now?"

Clerk Shi waved his hand. "Go back for today! Once this office verifies your situation, come back in two days to collect your certificate!"

***

Bai Yu boldly asked, "Can it not be collected now?"

Clerk Shi explained, "I must verify your household registration with the Elephant Training Office and check if there are any records of you evading labor service. How can I just close my eyes and issue a certificate blindly?"

Bai Yu said, looking very troubled, "Master Clerk, you may not know this, but my father is strictly opposed to me taking the imperial examinations. I fear that if he is alerted, my request for this certificate will be in vain again."

Clerk Shi understood the situation and sighed sympathetically, "Striving for improvement is a good thing; why would he oppose it? It seems yours is truly a poor household, fearing that any investment in the examination path will hinder your livelihood."

The pass rate for the imperial examinations was too low. Most candidates might never even become a *xiucai* in their entire lives; how could a poor family dare to gamble on such odds?

Bai Yu seized the opportunity and pleaded, "I truly wish to test my skills in the examination hall. I implore you, Master Clerk, to show some leniency."

Looking at the young, fast-writing prodigy before him—the likes of which he had never seen—Clerk Shi felt a touch of appreciation for his talent and nodded. "I will help you this once and try not to alert your father. After the verification is complete, come back in two days to collect your certificate!"

This was the best possible outcome. After expressing his gratitude, Bai Yu took his leave.

It was already afternoon when he stepped out of the Embroidered Uniform Guard headquarters. Bai Yu stood by the roadside and pondered for a while. He decided that he could not return home for the next two days, lest his father ruin his plans. Therefore, his top priority for the afternoon was to find a place to stay.

As a native of the capital, Bai Yu certainly had relatives and friends he could turn to, but the problem was that most of them were also familiar with his father. If he went to them, how would that be any different from walking into a trap?

Searching through the memories of his predecessor, Bai Yu actually thought of someone—a former drinking buddy from his days as a street wanderer. This man was distantly related to his late mother, and in terms of age and generation, was like an older brother to him. He lived in the more remote Fourth Alley.

Most importantly, his father likely did not know this "brother," so hiding there for a few days should be no problem.

With his mind made up, Bai Yu hesitated no longer. He turned back toward the Western District and headed for the Fourth Alley. On the way, he couldn't help but grumble to himself: clearly, he was striving for a proper, ambitious career, so why did it feel like he was fleeing into the underworld?