March 1st.
Su Yan, along with the other tribute students, walked on the crimson carpet into Fengtian Hall within the imperial palace.
Fengtian Hall, commonly known as the Jinluan Hall, was a splendid and majestic sight, with its carved beams and painted rafters, glazed tiles, and vermilion walls. Standing in the hall, with the dragon throne towering in the distance and officials solemnly lined up around, the overwhelming authority of imperial power was unmistakable, making it impossible for anyone to look directly at it.
Su Yan stood at the back of the line, his head slightly bowed, eyes downcast.
He had already prepared for the worst, adopting an indifferent, detached attitude as he observed the proceedings. The other tribute students, however, were filled with anxiety, too nervous to even breathe.
The ceremonies preceding the actual exam were tedious, with the ritual officials spouting endless classical phrases that lulled Su Yan into a drowsy state. His vision blurred into a white haze.
Suddenly, a clear and regal voice from the front broke through his fog: “Which one is the tribute student from Fujian, Su Yan?”
Su Yan’s first reaction: someone was calling his name. Second reaction: this isn’t right, aren’t we supposed to take a written test first, then do the interview? Third reaction: the voice was coming from above… could it be… the emperor?
He jolted awake, his mind instantly clear. He hurriedly stepped out of the line and knelt on the ground, pressing his palms to the carpet and lowering his forehead to his fingertips, summoning all the courage he could muster: “Your humble servant, Su Yan, greets Your Majesty.”
“Rise.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Emperor Jinglong looked down at him. Su Yan’s posture was upright and elegant, his head bowed, exuding the grace of a gentleman with a demeanor as gentle as jade. The emperor couldn’t help but feel a bit of fondness for him and said, “Raise your head.”
Hearing the emperor’s command, Su Yan raised his head without hesitation and curiously examined the ruler on the dragon throne.
One glance was enough to realize that ancient imperial portraits, with their narrow eyes, thin mustaches, broad faces, and prominent chins that seemed to radiate authority, were mostly the result of artistic embellishment. However, their aesthetic sense left much to be desired by modern standards.
For instance, the current Emperor Jinglong appeared to be around thirty-six or thirty-seven years old, with refined and handsome features and a serene, composed expression. Only when a flash of sharpness occasionally flickered in his eyes did he reveal the inherent majesty of one who commands respect without needing to raise his voice.
If you placed him in a modern TV drama, he’d be the quintessential charismatic older man, a “lady killer” who’d make all the women swoon. The portraits that have been passed down are nothing like the real person; they utterly butcher his image.
Su Yan was thoroughly satisfied with what he saw, but then his gaze shifted to the young man beside him dressed in a bright red official robe. Upon seeing who it was, Su Yan was so shocked that he almost cried out.
Wasn’t this the same kid he had bumped into on the street? The one now winking at him, clearly pleased to see him in this awkward situation?
As it turned out, this young man was none other than the Crown Prince, Zhu Helin.
Emperor Jinglong noticed Su Yan’s handsome and charming appearance, but he also saw that Su Yan’s gaze was a bit too bold, lacking the respect befitting a subject. His brows furrowed slightly, his displeasure evident. The Crown Prince noticed this and discreetly tugged on his sleeve, giving him a pleading look.
The Emperor, with a tone of mild reproach yet indulgence, glanced at the Crown Prince before turning back to Su Yan and said, “I’ve heard that you are well-read and skilled, a famed talent from Fujian.”
Su Yan felt his face flush with embarrassment. “Your Majesty, I am shallow in learning and unworthy of such praise. Those are merely the flattering words of my friends.”
Emperor Jinglong nodded slightly at Su Yan’s modesty. “A true gentleman should always be respectful and proper, free from youthful arrogance.”
After a moment of contemplation, he continued, “For this imperial exam, we shall discuss ‘Confucian strategies for governing the people.’ Su Yan, you may begin.”
Su Yan was instantly dumbfounded, lost, and completely confused.
He had originally thought, “At worst, I’ll just write another essay.” Therefore, he hadn’t bothered to study what topics the imperial exam would cover, let alone expect that the written test would suddenly turn into an oral one, catching him completely off guard.
Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he pondered the situation. He couldn’t help but think: “This exam topic is too inappropriate! They’re seriously going to ask about ‘toilet etiquette’ in court? Is the ancient court really so unrestrained? What am I supposed to say about this? The etiquette of using the toilet? The method of using a toilet? Or maybe even the modern flush toilet?”
Time was ticking away, and the courtiers’ glances towards him were becoming increasingly puzzled and impatient. Just as things were about to take a turn for the worse, Su Yan suddenly had a stroke of genius and said, “Your Majesty, I have a couplet that fits this topic, but… I dare not recite it.”
The Emperor said, “Speak, and I will pardon you.”
This was exactly what Su Yan was waiting for. Steadying himself, he confidently declared, “The couplet goes like this: The upper line is ‘Even heroes and great men must bow and bend their knees,’ and the lower line is ‘Chaste women too must disrobe and loosen their garments.’ The horizontal inscription reads, ‘The cycle of nature.'”
As soon as he finished, the entire court was struck dumb.
The air seemed to freeze; the entire jinluan hall was enveloped in silence. Su Yan glanced around at the shocked expressions on the officials’ faces and started to feel guilty, as though he had said something terribly wrong, and instinctively shrank back.
Standing just below the imperial steps was Marquis Fengan, Wei Jun, whose old face instantly turned a dark shade of blue, then red, and then deep purple. The veins on his forehead bulged as his three-inch goatee quivered uncontrollably.
This Marquis Fengan was none other than the uncle of the Imperial Concubine Wei.
Imperial Concubine Wei came from a line of imperial relatives, and is the Empress Dowager’s maternal niece. She entered the palace two years ago.
Since the founding of the dynasty, to prevent the influence of imperial in-laws, most concubines were selected from commoner women, and all previous empresses came from humble backgrounds, with their families unable to stir up significant waves. However, Imperial Concubine Wei now enjoyed the Emperor’s strong favor, and with the Empress Dowager’s support, her position was extraordinary. This also elevated her brother and uncle, both of whom were granted noble titles—one as a marquis, the other as a baron.
Imperial Concubine Wei’s brother, Baron Changning, was modest and kept a low profile. But her uncle, Marquis Fengan, was notorious for his immoral behavior. He not only seized land and wealth but also forcibly took beautiful married women as concubines. Some of these women, staunchly loyal and fierce in spirit, would rather die than submit, even killing themselves in front of their husbands. Others, after being discarded, returned home and hanged themselves out of shame. This caused public outrage, yet because of his high position, local authorities dared not investigate, dismissing any complaints.
Adding to this, the man had no self-awareness. He loved to flaunt his reputation and planted two acres of millet, wheat, rice, and beans in the front yard of his marquisate to earn praise for being a humble, people-loving official, calling himself the “Master of the Five Grains.”
Now, in front of the Emperor and the entire court, a mere scholar dared to publicly mock him, accusing him of oppressing the people and forcing himself on virtuous women.
Marquis Fengan, humiliated, was furious. Pointing at Su Yan, he shouted, “You insolent brat! How dare you speak such nonsense before the Emperor, tarnishing the court’s ears! You have no respect for your ruler, and your words are treasonous!”
Su Yan, caught off guard by the sudden scolding, hadn’t yet responded when an old official with white hair and beard stepped forward, sneering.
“Su Yan never mentioned names. Why, Marquis Fengan, are you feeling guilty? The sage once said that a gentleman has four virtues: his actions are righteous, his service respectful, his care for the people kind, and his treatment of them just. You act arrogantly, which is disrespectful. You deceive the heavens, which is irreverent. You harm the people, which is unkind. And you obstruct governance, which is unjust. How can you stand here, shouting about treason?”
Wei Jun realized it was Li Chengfeng, the Minister of Personnel and Grand Scholar of the Cabinet. As a senior official who had served two emperors, Minister Li often criticized him in court. Old resentments surfaced, and he lashed out, forgetting about Su Yan. “You old dog! How dare you insult a member of the royal family, disregarding the Emperor’s authority! You deserve to be executed!”
Li Chengfeng, equally furious, retorted, “You treacherous scoundrel! Relying on your connections to the palace, you defy the law and run rampant in court. I will be the first to bring you down!” With that, he flung the ceremonial tablet in his hands toward Fengan.
Caught off guard, Wi Jun was hit squarely on the shoulder. Enraged, he lunged forward to attack.
Li Chengfeng, not one to back down, responded with a punch.
Before long, the two elder statesmen, both in their fifties, were brawling like street thugs. Some officials watched in shock, some tried to break them up, and others, fearing the chaos would spread, hurriedly stepped back to avoid being caught in the fray.
Su Yan stared wide-eyed, thinking, this is unbelievable! So intense! This must be what the ancient court really looked like—fists and insults flying together, spit and sweat mingling.
Little did he know, scenes like this were exceedingly rare, happening once in decades.
Eventually, Li Shangshu, worn out with age, stumbled and fell near a bronze crane, breaking its slender neck. Picking up the broken piece, which resembled a duck neck from Wuhan, he hurled it at Fengan Marquis with all his strength.
Fengan Marquis ducked, narrowly avoiding the projectile.
Unfortunately for Su Yan, he was standing directly behind the Marquis, and as the bronze crane head flew toward him, he tripped and fell flat on his back in front of the Emperor’s throne. Looking up, he found himself staring directly into Emperor Jinglong’s icy, steel-like gaze.
There they were, face-to-face. A chilling breeze seemed to sweep across the back of Su Yan’s neck…
The crane head landed by the Emperor’s feet, rolling to a stop…
Emperor Jinglong slammed his hand down on the armrest of his dragon throne, standing up abruptly as he thundered, “How dare you!”
His roar was like a clap of thunder, instantly silencing the entire hall. Li Chengfeng and the Marquis froze in their grappling positions.
Su Yan, too shocked to move, saw the Crown Prince frantically signaling and mouthing words at him. It wasn’t until the Crown Prince almost kicked him that Su Yan realized he was in a very dangerous spot. He quickly scrambled off the throne platform, dusted off his robes, and hid in the crowd.
Emperor Jinglong’s face was taut with suppressed anger. “As subjects, how dare you behave so disgracefully before the Emperor? Do you even acknowledge me as your sovereign? Guards, take these two and throw them in the Ministry of Justice’s dungeon to await their punishment!”
With that, he stormed out of the hall, leaving behind a curt order: “The imperial examination is postponed to a later date. Court dismissed!”
Officials and scholars alike murmured among themselves as they left, shaking their heads in dismay. Su Yan lagged behind, surprised at how he had somehow escaped disaster, feeling as though he had just watched a movie with an unpredictable plot.
I guessed the beginning of the story but not the ending. The ancient court is indeed formidable and powerful.
Lost in thought, he was suddenly approached by a eunuch in a sunflower-patterned robe, who said, “Tribute Student Su, the Crown Prince has summoned you to the Huagai Hall.”
The little kid wanted to see him? Was this going to be a reckoning?
He nervously followed the eunuch to the Huagai Hall. As he neared the lattice door, he heard a raspy, youthful voice inside laughing uncontrollably, saying between fits of laughter, “You should’ve seen the look on Marquis Fengan’s face! It was hilarious, like an old mule kicking up a fuss… And Grand Tutor Li, limping and groaning as he left the hall, clutching his back! At least Royal Father will have some peace for the next half-month…”
Another voice, gentle and dignified, responded, “That’s enough. Grand Tutor Li is the Grand Secretary of the Cabinet and the Crown Prince’s tutor. It’s inappropriate for a student to mock his teacher.”
Su Yan was taken aback when he heard this. He thought it was the Crown Prince who had summoned him, but was the Emperor there as well? The Emperor had been furious in the main hall just moments ago, yet now he seemed at ease, chatting with the Crown Prince. It seemed that Zhu Helin, who had been named the heir to the throne at birth, was indeed deeply loved by his Father.
Before he could think further, the eunuch beside him loudly announced his arrival. With the Emperor’s call, Su Yan had no choice but to muster his courage, enter the hall, and kneel in greeting.
Even though he had been in this era for half a year, he still wasn’t accustomed to the ancient custom of kneeling on both knees, and he anxiously awaited the Emperor’s command to rise.
To his surprise, the Emperor remained silent, his expression cold, and his long, narrow eyes fixed on Su Yan with a chilling gaze.
It felt like a cold autumn rain had suddenly poured over him, and Su Yan’s hair stood on end. That look was terrifying! Had he somehow angered the Emperor again? Even imperial relatives and cabinet ministers had been thrown into prison—what fate would await a mere tribute student like him?
He recalled how harsh the punishments were in this dynasty, with brutal methods like “decapitation, hanging, and flaying.” And there was the infamous *lingchi* (death by a thousand cuts), which had been the end of both loyal officials and traitors.
He wasn’t afraid of death; after all, he had mentally prepared himself for it. But what scared him was the thought of a slow, agonizing death with his body torn apart. He’d rather return to his previous life and get hit by ten flowerpots at once.
Just as these chilling thoughts crossed his mind, the Emperor suddenly spoke in a calm tone, “Su Yan, you have quite the talent. With a single poem, you stirred up such a storm in court. Truly, you’ve made a stunning impact after remaining quiet for so long.”
Su Yan hurriedly tried to clear his name, saying, “Your Majesty, I was merely responding to the question at hand. My only intention was to answer the essay well, and I had no intent to criticize any ministers. Even if I had the courage of a hundred men, I wouldn’t dare! Please, Your Majesty, see clearly!”
Internally, he was wailing: *Wasn’t it you who gave me that tricky question? I already tried to answer as politely as possible! How was I supposed to know that some marquis would suddenly go mad and start cursing me out of nowhere? And then that old minister lost his temper, too. I’m still confused—how did I become the scapegoat in all of this? I’m so wronged, more wronged than Dou E!*
The Emperor calmly sipped his tea, slowly wiping the rim of his cup with the lid, and said, “There’s no need to be so frightened. Although your actions were reckless, your heart is in the right place, focused on justice and moral principles. I don’t intend to punish you too harshly—just a small punishment as a warning for the future. Go receive twenty strokes of the court staff yourself.”
