Merry Xmas Everyone!! A little drop as an xmas gift :))
In a courtyard where green willows brushed against the eaves and red apricots peeked over the wall…
The sunlight had already filtered through the patterned wooden windows with their bright tiles, casting its glow on a red silk quilt that was bulging on the bed.
The quilt moved slightly, and a small tuft of black hair poked out, followed by a pale arm groping around near the headboard until it grasped a silver pocket watch with an enamel painting from the West.
In the quiet room, a young man’s panicked shout immediately broke the silence: “Oh no, I overslept!”
Ruan Hongjiao, a famous courtesan in the capital, entered with a brass washbasin in hand and reassured him, “Don’t worry, young master. It’s not yet past the Chen Hour; you should still make it in time. Even if you’re a little late, the guards at the gate care more about money than people—just bribe them a bit, and they’ll let you in.”
While hurriedly dressing, Su Yan replied, “My dear miss, do you think this is some market fair? This is the triennial imperial examination! Scholars from all over the country have gathered in the capital, and the examination grounds are heavily guarded. A bribe won’t get you through those gates.”
Ruan Hongjiao set the basin down and sat by the table, resting her chin in her hand with a mischievous smile. “It would be better if you couldn’t get in. With young master’s dragon-like elegance and brilliant mind, if you make it into the top three, the emperor might choose you to be his son-in-law, and I’d never see you again. It’s best if you fail, so you can stay in the capital for another three years and let me accompany you every day.”
Su Yan fastened his hair and put on a soft cap, wiping his face quickly as he laughed and scolded, “Dare to curse me with failure, and I’ll come back and twist your crow’s beak!” With that, he grabbed the bundle on the table and rushed out the door.
Behind him, Ruan Hongjiao called out playfully, “Take your time, young master! My lips will be waiting for you to come back and twist them!”
Once out of the alley, Su Yan sprinted as if the wind were beneath his feet, panting with a mix of amusement and helplessness. What elegance and brilliance? More like a belly full of pigs and chickens. Does he not know the limits of his own knowledge? Three years of university, and all he had read were a few classical texts and essays. At best, he could string together a couple of poorly rhymed verses. Back in the modern world, he’d barely qualify as a literary enthusiast; here in ancient times, he was practically illiterate.
What was the imperial examination? A national elite selection process for intellectuals! With his subpar skills, how could he expect to make the list? He could only hope the examiners didn’t spit blood when reading his paper.
But skipping the exam wasn’t an option either. His father, a Senior Provincial Government official—equivalent to a modern-day mayor—was strict and upheld family discipline. Even as the son of a high-ranking official, Su Yan had no special privileges. Sneaking off to visit a brothel would earn him a flogging. If his father found out he missed the exam because he overslept, he’d break Su Yan’s legs for sure.
Whether he passed or not was a matter of ability; whether he showed up was a matter of attitude. Su Yan knew the difference all too well.
So he had no choice but to grumble about the original scholar’s frailty—raised with nothing but Confucian texts, he was now a pale, fragile sprout that would topple in a breeze—while gritting his teeth and sprinting to the examination grounds, nearly running out of breath.
Just as he turned a corner, a figure suddenly appeared in front of him. Startled, Su Yan couldn’t stop in time and crashed headfirst into the person.
The collision sent various objects clattering across the stone pavement. Su Yan fell directly on top of the person, his ribs aching from the impact. But having nearly exhausted himself from the sprint, he was too weak to get up immediately.
The person beneath him fared worse, having hit the back of his head on the stone with a thud, grimacing in pain. Yet Su Yan, instead of getting up, laid sprawled on him, half-dead and gasping for breath. Anger surged within the other person, who shouted, “Get off me!”
Several attendants rushed over to pull Su Yan off.
Catching his breath, Su Yan looked down and saw that he had knocked over a boy of about thirteen or fourteen. The boy was dressed in a narrow-sleeved robe with auspicious patterns, over which he wore a sleeveless scarlet jacket. He had a peaked cap adorned with a small, delicate red jewel. His thick eyebrows and handsome features, along with his military-style attire, exuded a sense of spirited energy.
The boy’s brows were furrowed in anger as he snapped at Su Yan, “Are you blind? Can’t you see a person right in front of you? Are you in such a hurry to die?”
Seeing that the boy, even when standing, was a head shorter than himself and that his voice was rough and unpleasant—typical of someone going through puberty—yet already carried an air of arrogance, Su Yan guessed he was the son of some high-ranking official. Acknowledging that he was at fault, Su Yan politely bowed and apologized, “I’m rushing to the imperial exam and didn’t see you, young master. My deepest apologies. Are you hurt?”
The little young master’s expression softened slightly, and he snorted, “With your frail scholar’s body, you think you could hurt me?”
Relieved, Su Yan cupped his hands again. “I’m glad you’re unhurt. I must hurry to the examination grounds and can’t afford to waste any more time. Thank you for your generosity, young master. I’ll take my leave.” With that, he grabbed his bundle and dashed off.
The boy stood there, stunned for a moment, then shouted at Su Yan’s retreating figure, “Who said you could leave? Stop right there! Hey—”
But Su Yan didn’t stop, pretending not to hear. Fortunately, the examination gate was just ahead, and he darted inside like a bird returning to its nest.
The boy, looking at the shattered porcelain pieces and scattered tea cakes on the ground, gritted his teeth in frustration. He picked up the pocket watch, its enamel face cracked into several pieces, and even the hands had stopped moving. Furious, he exclaimed, “That rascal ran off fast enough! All my effort picking this out was wasted!”
One of his attendants stepped forward, trying to calm him down. “Don’t be angry, young master. Shall we go in and drag that blind fool out?”
The boy’s face was still full of anger, but he calmed down upon hearing this and said, “This is a serious matter—the Ministry of Rites is inside, offering sacrifices to heaven and Confucius. Several grand secretaries from the cabinet are in the examination hall too. We can’t afford to cause a scene.” His black-and-white eyes gleamed as he called out, “Cheng Sheng.”
“At your service, my lord.”
“Go to the examination hall and find out the name of that boy. Does he dream of making the honor roll? I’ll make sure he fails miserably and slinks away with his tail between his legs.”
“This slave will take care of it right away, sir. You can count on me.”
The young master snorted heavily, still fuming. He turned his head and noticed that the hook on the birdcage had broken, the door was half-open, and the large parrot he’d just bought was poking its head out. He urgently shouted in his raspy voice, “Hey, my parrot is about to escape! Catch it for me—”
Startled by his shout, the parrot flapped its wings and soared into the sky.
***
Su Yan sat in his single examination room—his number room—biting his pen and sighing.
The so-called number room was practically no different from a prison cell, measuring five feet long, four feet wide, and eight feet high, like a matchbox where he couldn’t even stretch his legs.
The examinees were only allowed to bring writing instruments and lamps, and each was issued three candles. After being thoroughly searched, they were locked in their cells, where they had to write their exams in the dim light.
But this wasn’t the biggest problem. A bit of hardship was nothing; it was just like taking another college entrance exam. If you feel it’s tough, remember the Long March; if you’re tired, learn from the Red Army veterans. What really troubled Su Yan was… the eight-part Essay!
The eight-part Essay, a symbol of feudal rigidity to modern people, was considered the crystallization of ancient sages’ wisdom and a stepping stone to officialdom by people of that time.
The Four Books and Five Classics had only so many pages, and the exam questions had to come from them. The examiners racked their brains, digging into obscure corners and peeling back layers to extract a sentence or half a sentence to set the question.
For example, the topic on Su Yan’s exam paper was “What is detestable about clinging to one thing is that it harms the Dao.”
Fortunately, Su Yan had been a good student who paid attention in class, vaguely remembering that this phrase seemed to come from Mencius’ Jinxin Chapter, where Mencius criticized Yang Zhu’s self-interest and Mozi’s universal love, reflecting the idea of maintaining balance and flexibility.
But the problem was, this wasn’t a modern argumentative essay where you could freely develop your points as long as your argument was clear and evidence solid. The eight part essay had rigid formats stricter than shackles. Breaking open the topic, continuing the topic, beginning the discussion, introducing the topic, expanding the discussion, transitioning the discussion, concluding the discussion—each segment had its own set of formulaic phrases, with specific required opening words; the real argumentation only happened in the expansion and transition parts, which had to be written in parallel couplets, the so-called “paired prose,” hence the name eight part essay.
Heaven help him, Su Yan couldn’t even compose a properly metered poem, let alone write paired prose. He was about to chew his pen to bits, and he still hadn’t written a word.
Though he had low expectations for his exam, as a literature major, submitting a blank paper would be utterly embarrassing! Shameful! A betrayal of his teachers!
After much painful deliberation, Su Yan had a flash of inspiration and came up with an idea that might be brilliant or terrible.
He decided to write this “harmful Dao” essay in the style of a modern argumentative essay, focusing on clear argumentation, solid evidence, and rigorous logic. If he quoted some famous sayings and used literary Chinese, it should pass. In a modern exam, it might even be a top-scoring essay.
Comforting himself with this plan, Su Yan began writing energetically, telling himself: Luckily, I’ve practiced calligraphy for a few years, so writing neatly isn’t a problem. As long as I fill up the paper, the rest doesn’t matter. As long as I take the right stance, avoid political errors, and don’t say anything too radical or anti-establishment, I shouldn’t be executed, right?
***
“Su Yan, an examinee from Fujian, courtesy name Qinghe…”
Liu Weiyi, a Hanlin Academy scholar and junior preceptor, carefully selected a paper from a large stack of exam scripts and handed it over with a pinch of his fingers. “This is the one.”
Cheng Sheng sipped his tea with a satisfied smile. “Scholar Liu, I’m just a simple man who barely knows how to read, so evaluating the essay should be left to you. See if it meets the standards.”
Liu Weiyi glanced at the paper without even properly reading the characters before placing it on the table. “This essay is poorly written and shallow in meaning—a bottom-tier piece. Rest assured, I will handle this fairly and certainly won’t pass a candidate with such mediocre scholarship.”
Cheng Sheng nodded with satisfaction. “Scholar Liu, you’re thorough in your work. I’m relieved. The young master is waiting for news, so I’ll take my leave.”
Liu Weiyi bowed and said, “Take care, sir.” He watched as Cheng Sheng waddled out, then sighed quietly.
Although Liu Weiyi held the rank of fourth-grade junior preceptor and Hanlin Academy scholar, assisting the crown prince with his studies, he had to be respectful and cautious around this sixth-grade eunuch. Why? Because Cheng Sheng was close to the crown prince, attending to his daily needs and leisure, a level of intimacy Liu Weiyi could never match.
Everyone knew the emperor doted on the crown prince. If these eunuchs whispered in the crown prince’s ear, and the crown prince mentioned it to the emperor, Liu Weiyi could lose his position and possibly face exile with his family.
After all, Su Yan was just an ordinary examinee. There was no need to defy the crown prince’s will for him. Su Yan, you brought this upon yourself. You can’t blame me. With his decision made, Liu Weiyi picked up his brush and prepared to cross out Su Yan’s name with red ink.
But just then, a clear voice called out from outside the window, “The Emperor has arrived at the examination hall! All officials, prepare to greet him!”
Startled by the sudden announcement, Liu Weiyi’s hand trembled, dropping the brush, which splattered red ink like a maiden’s first blush on the brick floor.
He adjusted his cap, noticing the hem of a bright yellow robe entering the room. He hurriedly knelt, pressing his forehead to his fingers. “Your subject Liu Weiyi humbly greets Your Majesty.”
Emperor Jinglong entered the main hall, smiling with his hands behind his back. “Rise, rise. This isn’t the palace, and there are no censors here. No need to be so formal.”
Liu Weiyi stood up with hands respectfully clasped, sneaking a glance at the emperor’s attire. Today, the emperor was wearing a yellow robe with a high collar and wide sleeves, adorned with golden dragons embroidered on the front, back, and shoulders, and a winged crown on his head. Seeing the emperor’s relaxed expression, Liu Weiyi felt a bit more at ease.
Emperor Jinglong surveyed the room and asked, “Why is it so empty? Are you the only one here?”
Liu Weiyi respectfully replied, “Your Majesty, Scholar Fang is organizing the exam papers in the study, Scholar Zhao went to inspect a leak in one of the examination cells, and Scholar Lin… well, Scholar Lin said that…”
“What did he say?”
“He said he was having some digestive discomfort and had to relieve himself.”
The Emperor chuckled and sat down on a huanghuali chair carved with dragon motifs. He casually picked up a test paper from the table. “Scholar Lin must have caught a chill after falling into the lake last night while quarreling over a pleasure boat.”
Although the Emperor spoke casually, Liu Weiyi broke out in a cold sweat, soaking through his inner garment.
The Jinyi Guards truly were everywhere, penetrating every corner with their surveillance. The thought of whether his recent actions had been observed by those prying eyes flashed through Liu Weiyi’s mind, making him tremble uncontrollably, almost unable to stand.
Fortunately, the Emperor was focused on the exam paper, not noticing Liu Weiyi’s pale face. However, the Emperor’s expression darkened as his sharp brows slowly furrowed.
“…Is this the test paper from this year’s examination?” The Emperor’s face grew stern as he slammed the paper on the table. “What is this nonsense?”
Liu Weiyi jolted in fear and quickly glanced over. Unfortunately, it was Su Yan’s test paper, the one he had casually placed on the table. He froze in terror.
The Emperor exhaled sharply and jabbed his finger at the paper. “This person doesn’t even understand the basic format of the eight-part essay. How did they pass the preliminary and provincial exams? How did they become a candidate for the imperial examination?”
He tossed the paper back onto the table. “I cannot tolerate officials, either civil or military, who engage in nepotism and ignore the laws of the land! Just look at this—someone with such sloppy writing has made it all the way to the capital. Who allowed this?”
This accusation was severe—deception of the Emperor, a crime punishable by death!
Liu Weiyi’s legs stopped trembling altogether.
As the saying goes, when wolves are in power, who would blame the fox? With officials committing such grave offenses, his minor indiscretion was nothing in comparison—he wouldn’t even get a slap on the wrist.
Feeling reassured, Liu Weiyi echoed, “Your Majesty is wise. When I reviewed this paper earlier, I was outraged by the nonsense written by this candidate from Fujian, intending to rate it as the lowest of the low.”
The Emperor said, “It’s worse than low. This person should be expelled from the examination and never allowed to participate again!”
