Chapter 15
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They talked about Buddhism, but a man’s burning ambition couldn’t be extinguished even with cold water. Gu Yuanbai felt he was somewhat fickle, understanding somewhat the feelings of Kangxi in his later years.
Knowing he was about to die, knowing everything he had done was in vain, and even knowing that the future ruler was right beside him.
But unwilling to relinquish power, and not wanting to kill the future ruler either, because if the protagonist in the book were killed, who else could do better than the protagonist?
It was because of this that Gu Yuanbai felt quite complicated when facing Xue Yuan and Chu Wei.
Since spraining his ankle, Gu Yuanbai had obediently adhered to the routine of attending court, sleeping, and handling government affairs in the palace. His injuries appeared more severe than they were, and even a minor injury seemed visually impactful, resembling a serious one. Gu Yuanbai’s ankle swelled more each day, with bruises spreading halfway up his foot. He had grown accustomed to the pain, but the imperial physicians seemed increasingly worried.
The Emperor’s injury seemed too severe. Whenever they touched it, it felt like they were inflicting punishment.
After a dozen days, the swelling on his foot finally subsided. During these days, Heqin Wang had repeatedly missed morning court, initially, Gu Yuanbai thought it was due to catching a cold from being caught in the rain during a storm, so falling ill was expected.
But after consecutive instances of illness, Gu Yuanbai sensed something was amiss. He sent people with the imperial physicians to Heqin Wang’s residence to find out what was going on.
Meanwhile, with the arrival of spring, it was also time to post the results of the imperial examination.
As the Emperor, Gu Yuanbai naturally had the privilege of knowing in advance. The Minister of Rites presented him with the list, saying with a smile, “The top scorer is the only son of Lord Chu.”
Gu Yuanbai nodded and looked down, scanning the top ten before asking, “Where are the essays of the top three?”
The Minister of Rites handed over the essays to Gu Yuanbai, who first examined the evaluations of the examiners, then read the policy discussions of the top three candidates.
This year’s policy discussions were personally formulated by Gu Yuanbai. One question concerned the agricultural policies of the Great Heng Dynasty, while the other addressed border trade. These topics were broad, but writing about the intricacies and specifics was challenging.
It was to test whether the candidates were grounded in the fundamentals of the country and to see if their vision was shallow. If they were narrow-minded scholars, they were not worth hiring.
Those whose views aligned with Gu Yuanbai’s were accepted, while those with outdated and conflicting views were rejected. In the long run, Gu Yuanbai’s ideas would be executed more smoothly, and the influx of fresh blood into the court would become the Emperor’s loyal guardians amidst confrontation with the conservatives.
The chief examiner this year was a minister responsible for practical governance, who preferred practicality. As a result, although the top three essays were not exceptionally eloquent, each had its own perspective and was grounded in the reality of the Great Heng Dynasty.
Gu Yuanbai carefully read through each one. When he reached the last essay, he couldn’t help but smile and say, “Well written!”
The Minister of Rites, curious, came over to take a look and found that it was written by a scholar from Shandong, ranked third.
The ones ranked higher than the scholar from Shandong, whether it was Chu Wei or Chang Yuyan, wrote eloquently, with profound meaning, making their essays enjoyable to read. In contrast, this essay was simple and plain, with concise and uninteresting language. If it weren’t for the outstanding content, it probably wouldn’t have been ranked third.
Now seeing how seriously the Emperor was reading, the Minister of Rites couldn’t help but admire the keenness of the chief examiner. He also marveled at the luck of this scholar. Judging by the Emperor’s demeanor, he probably remembered this scholar completely.
Gu Yuanbai read this essay repeatedly, and in the end, he raised his head, remembering the name of the person who wrote such a brilliant piece.
Kong Yilin from Qingzhou Prefecture, Shandong.
***
There were already layers of people gathered in front of the examination hall.
When soldiers emerged from the examination hall with red papers, the crowd erupted into a commotion, pushing forward eagerly. The soldiers angrily exclaimed, “Don’t push! Don’t push! Step back!”
The red papers were posted one by one, and the scholars surrounding them had lost their usual composure. Their hands clenched tightly, their eyes bulged, and their hearts beat wildly, fearing they might miss a single word.
“Quick, quick, the announcements are being posted!”
“I passed! I passed!” Soon, ecstatic voices rang out, “I passed!”
The teahouses and taverns on both sides were also packed with people. Some couldn’t resist the excitement below and stood by the railing, stretching their necks to see, their hearts pounding, but even if they stretched their necks until they broke, they couldn’t see a single word on the red paper.
The messengers sent to check the results maintained a forced calm on their faces, but their eyes were lifeless, scanning from the stairs from time to time, each passing second tormenting them.
On the day of the announcement of the results, people showed various expressions: some laughed heartily, some smiled quietly to themselves, some looked lost and desolate, staring at the red paper as if they had lost all hope of living.
The ecstatic ones were high-spirited, their shouts of “I passed!” drawing envious glances from others. A single red paper drove many people crazy.
Chu Wei had been calmly drinking tea in a teahouse, but the cheers and cries of joy clearly affected him. He furrowed his brows, discreetly casting a few glances towards the stairs.
His classmate beside him shook his head and teased, “Chu Wei, Chu Wei, I never thought you would participate in the imperial examination.”
Chu Wei withdrew his gaze and replied nonchalantly, “Hmm.”
Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps on the stairs to the second floor. Chu Wei couldn’t help but put down his cup and look back, only to see another scholar’s servant, with disheveled hair and a joyful expression, shouting excitedly, “You passed! Master, you passed!”
Chu Wei’s heart raced a bit faster. He stood up decisively, ignoring his classmate’s banter, and stood by the window, looking out towards the entrance of the examination hall.
Many people had dispersed by now, leaving mostly those who dared not believe they hadn’t made the list. Chu Wei’s heart skipped a beat, his lips pursed straight. Could it be that he had really failed?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone across the street, standing in front of a tavern window, a dashing and elegant young man. The young man also saw him, the smile on his lips froze for a moment, then he politely nodded towards Chu Wei.
Chu Wei knew who this was—Chang Yuyan, the formidable rival mentioned by another examinee who had boasted before the exam.
Chang Yuyan was well-known for his excellent essays and compositions, and judging by his current demeanor, he also hadn’t yet learned his ranking on the list.
Chu Wei nodded back at Chang Yuyan with a slight nod. Then he noticed another person sitting at the table next to Chang Yuyan.
This person’s hand dangled out the window, lazily twirling a alcohol pot that seemed ready to slip from his grasp and crash to the ground at any moment.
This man was highly perceptive, and within moments, he sensed Chu Wei’s gaze. He looked over with a dark, brooding expression. Despite the intimidating glance, Chu Wei calmly looked away, instinctively feeling that this person was no ordinary character.
“Young Master!”
A familiar voice suddenly called from behind. Chu Wei turned around quickly, his heart racing when he saw his servant’s ecstatic face.
“You got first place! Young Master, you topped the list! Huiyuan! You are the Huiyuan!”
Everyone in the room turned to look at Chu Wei, and the place erupted in commotion.
His classmate, shocked, dropped his teacup and rushed forward to pat Chu Wei excitedly. “Chu Zihu, you actually topped the list!”
As if awakened by this exclamation, everyone in the room crowded around Chu Wei to offer their congratulations. Flattering words piled on top of each other, and it became impossible to distinguish who was speaking amidst the noise.
Chu Wei took a deep breath and composed himself. A confident smile appeared on his lips.
Seven years ago, he had been the Jieyuan, and now, seven years later, he was the Huiyuan.
Only one step away from the Zhuangyuan. Would the Emperor grant it to him?
***
After the results of the provincial examination were announced, there was a mix of joy and sorrow. However, the successful candidates barely had time to attend celebratory banquets because, in five days, they would enter the palace for the metropolitan examination.
Facing the Emperor and hearing his teachings was a monumental event in their lives, and no one dared to take it lightly.
The Ministry of Rites was incredibly busy, working overtime to tailor new clothes and train the candidates in proper etiquette. The Great Heng Dynasty had no cabinet, so the topics for the metropolitan examination were pre-drafted by the Political Affairs Hall. The Political Affairs Hall and the Privy Council were the two most efficient administrative bodies in the Great Heng government. By the second afternoon after the provincial exam results were posted, the pre-drafted topics were handed to Gu Yuanbai.
Gu Yuanbai selected a few topics, incorporated his own ideas, and sent them to the Ministry of Rites. After that, his role as the Emperor was complete.
While waiting for the metropolitan examination, Gu Yuanbai gathered the ministers from the Political Affairs Hall to discuss his proposed reforms for memorial submissions. After some thought, one of the ministers, a man named Zhou, said, “Your Majesty, we still find it a bit confusing when explained verbally. Could this official perhaps write down the ‘forms,’ ‘charts,’ and ‘templates’ you mentioned for us to see?”
“Why go to such trouble?” Gu Yuanbai picked up a pen. “I will do it.”
As he wrote, he explained the functions of these items. Forms were neatly arranged with rows and columns, making previously jumbled content clear and orderly. Charts visually represented data based on these forms. Gu Yuanbai drew three example charts and wrote Arabic numerals, saying, “In charts and forms involving numbers, use this notation.”
As for the memorials, they should still be written in Chinese characters—this should not change. Gu Yuanbai explained for half an hour, combining theory with practice by drawing many forms and charts, ensuring the ministers understood their utility. Once they nodded in agreement, he quickly wrote a classic template for memorial submissions.
The document was concise and well-organized. Though it seemed a bit unfamiliar and somewhat cold and direct, the ministers, busy with daily affairs, recognized how much time these tools could save.
Once the Emperor finished, the paper was passed around among the ministers. Gu Yuanbai asked, “What do you think, gentlemen?”
The Political Affairs Hall, being the central body of Gu Yuanbai’s governance, understood his intentions well. They nodded quickly. “Your Majesty, although initially unfamiliar, this method will undoubtedly save a lot of time once we get used to it. We will implement it right away.”
“I will also have the new scholars take this method to the local prefectures and counties,” Gu Yuanbai nodded lightly. “After five months, any memorials not using this method will not be reviewed by the Political Affairs Hall and will be sent back for revision. If the content remains unclear after several revisions, the officials responsible will be dismissed.”
The ministers’ expressions grew serious. “Understood!”
Satisfied, Gu Yuanbai dismissed them. He was in a good mood, a slight smile on his lips, radiating contentment. The head guard, accompanying him on a walk in the palace, finally mustered up the courage under the urging of his brothers to speak. “Would Your Majesty like to watch a game of cuju?”
Gu Yuanbai was taken aback and turned to look at him. The head guard’s handsome face was flushed, looking nervous and uneasy as if he had done something wrong.
The guards behind him lowered their heads, their ears and necks red. These tall and strong men seemed like bashful young girls in front of the Emperor.
Amused, Gu Yuanbai asked, “You want to play cuju for me?”
“….” The head guard’s face turned even redder. “We all love playing cuju, and each of us is skilled. If Your Majesty is bored, we can play a match to entertain you.”
The Emperor didn’t say yes or no. Instead, he looked around and focused on a flowering tree. He reached out, held his wide sleeve, and with his fair wrist extended, he pinched off a flower branch, holding the pinkish-red blossom in his hand.
“Then let’s use this flower as the prize,” the Emperor said, smiling as he twirled the flower. “The winning team will get it as a reward.”
The head guard glanced at the flower in the Emperor’s hand, his face still red, but his eyes shining with a desire to win. The competitive spirit was ignited among the guards. As they walked to the cuju field, they divided into two teams, glaring at each other, ready to compete fiercely.
Tian Fusheng wrapped the flower branch in a white cloth, intending to hold it himself, but Gu Yuanbai said, “I’ll hold it.”
When Gu Yuanbai picked the flower, his hands got stained with the flower’s sap, so there was no need to worry about cleanliness. Tian Fusheng, feeling concerned, said in a pinched voice, “Your Majesty, I’m afraid you might tire yourself out!”
Gu Yuanbai glanced at him and jokingly scolded, “Get lost.”
Tian Fusheng laughed and went behind Gu Yuanbai to massage his shoulders.
The Emperor enjoyed cuju, and there was a large field in the palace for it. The guards changed into thin shirts and chased the ball vigorously on the field, making for an exciting spectacle. Many palace servants couldn’t take their eyes off the game, struggling to suppress their cheers, their faces turning red from the effort.
The cuju match lasted a full hour. When the guards finally came off the field, drenched in sweat, the heat radiating from their bodies seemed to warp the air slightly.
The head guard led his subordinates over, careful not to get too close to Gu Yuanbai for fear of offending him with their sweat. “Your Majesty, my team won.”
Despite the distance, Gu Yuanbai could still feel the heat from their bodies. Seeing their healthy and strong physiques, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.
The head guard appeared slightly shy, keeping his head down and body stiff as a board in his thin shirt, not daring to look at the Emperor.
Gu Yuanbai sighed inwardly, handing the vibrant flower to the head guard and teasing, “There are twelve of you, but I only have one flower. How will you share it?”
The cuju rules in the Great Heng Dynasty followed ancient traditions. In the Han Dynasty, double-goal cuju matches were used for military training. Great Heng was no exception, and Gu Yuanbai believed that having leaders enjoy such a healthy and simple sport was beneficial for the country and its people.
Emulating the superiors, students in Great Heng were healthier than pure scholars, and common people also played cuju to some extent. The guards with the Emperor were particularly skilled, making the game dazzling to watch.
Using a single flower as the prize for such an excellent match seemed almost unfair to Gu Yuanbai.
But the rewarded guards were happy. During the lively moment, two eunuchs hurriedly approached with two imperial physicians. Seeing Gu Yuanbai, they knelt. “Your Majesty, we have returned with the physicians.”
These were the ones sent to Heqin Wang’s mansion. Gu Yuanbai’s smile faded as he sat down and asked, “How is Heqin Wang’s health?”
One physician respectfully replied, “We observed Heqin Wang for three days and deduced that his condition is not severe but seems to be a heart ailment.”
A heart ailment?
Gu Yuanbai frowned, dismissing the others and having Tian Fusheng provide seats for the physicians. After they settled, he calmly asked, “What kind of heart ailment?”
The physician looked ashamed. “We do not know.”
“Heqin Wang refused to see us. According to Heqin Wangfei, even his retainers’ persuasion could not cheer him up.”
Gu Yuanbai paused, quietly watching the ripples in his teacup.
Heqin Wang had become strange after that stormy day. On reflection, it seemed only the mention of Lu Feng in their conversation could have triggered him.
Heqin Wang disliked being confined in the capital; he wanted military power.
He was willing to see his retainers but dared to refuse those sent by the Emperor.
Gu Yuanbai’s eyes darkened.
Gu Zhao…you better not be plotting something that would anger me.
“Prepare the carriage,” Gu Yuanbai decided promptly. He stood, the young Emperor’s face calm before the impending storm. “We are going to visit my dear brother, Heqin Wang.”
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