Chapter 8: The End of the Imperial Examination |
The meeting room of the Imperial Academy.
"Although policy essays are arguments, they must also be practical and implementable to be considered superior essays."
After someone spoke these words to set the tone for grading the policy essays, the remaining people all nodded in agreement.
"Even if the writing is excellent, if it cannot be implemented or is difficult to implement, it's just empty talk," one person added with a slightly forceful tone.
"Whether something can or cannot be done is not for us to decide."
At this point, Gu Yixin reminded them: "The Second Prince oversees the imperial examinations. All outstanding essays must be discussed and deliberated with him."
The Chief Grand Secretary constantly reminded them to keep the meeting on the correct track.
Nominally, the imperial examinations served the Emperor.
"Prince of Jin is modest and eager to learn, and Teacher Gu is his tutor," someone said upon hearing this. "Since the examination grading has been entrusted to us, we cannot lack our own judgment. We must fulfill our duties and truly recruit talented people for the Emperor."
Following this, someone chimed in: "Since we receive the sovereign's stipend, we should resolve the sovereign's worries. Can we really let His Majesty review those essays with empty rhetoric, self-contradictions, and no practical value?"
Everyone basically knew about this policy essay topic, because the subject matter itself was quite sensitive and would produce many extreme arguments.
The examination proctors were all from aristocratic families, while the examinees came from all walks of life.
It was impossible to control everyone's thoughts and arguments.
Moreover, some who were from aristocratic families would also present penetrating arguments for the depth and substance of their essays.
Among the seven people, a certain trend was gradually emerging regarding the tone.
Gu Yixin felt it—a certain consensus was forming, driven by collective opinion.
At this moment, Zhang Zhao, who came from the humblest background, suddenly spoke: "But since these are policy essays, we cannot promote those who avoid important issues, evade reality, and curry favor with the powerful."
After these words were spoken, the meeting room fell silent for a moment.
The atmosphere became subtly wrong.
What he said was quite plain and shouldn't have been controversial at all—it was practically stating the obvious.
However, if someone truly thought this way...
Then these words were no longer stating the obvious.
They were a slap in the face to certain people.
Those who emphasized that impractical policy essays were unacceptable were the very obstacles to policy implementation.
"Teacher Gu, please advise."
When no one spoke, Zhang Zhao looked toward Gu Yixin.
Gu Yixin turned the ceramic pot in his hands, slowly raised his head, and decided: "Unless the lyrical composition is exceptional, those whose policy essay content avoids important issues shall not be permitted to pass."
With one sentence, he directly killed countless examinees' dreams of becoming juren.
Heavy and solemn.
Given the state of the nation, at this critical juncture, those who still don't think of serving the country and act as self-serving thieves—how selfish could they be?
If someone wasn't even willing to write such noble words, what would happen if they actually became an official?
The tone was thus set.
Everyone nodded without objection.
But some were clearly unconvinced, glaring at Zhang Zhao with displeasure.
………
Cannot avoid important issues.
Avoiding important issues would be the end.
Song Shi'an became increasingly convinced of this as he pondered.
Why?
Look at the question.
Our dynasty has had no major warfare for several years, yet the national treasury has no surplus grain.
'Yet.'
Would a normal question, if it carried no subjective emotion, use this word 'yet'?
It would say: Our dynasty has had no major warfare for several years, but the national treasury has no surplus grain.
Right?
Using 'yet' indicated anger.
His Majesty the Emperor was unhappy.
When it's put this bluntly, would you still go on about how if the national treasury has no grain, everyone should just eat a little less? Or that there should be fewer people eating grain?
No money means spend less?
No money means you should earn money!
So the core of this question is: no grain means you should produce grain!
Damn, worthy of ancient times—taking an exam feels like reading comprehension from hell.
Well, I get it now. I completely get it.
Having read extensively through ancient and modern works and then synthesized the strengths of all schools of thought, Song Shi'an faced the Great Yu's predicament and began writing with determination.
"Strategy for Military Farming"
The art of stabilizing a nation lies in strong military and sufficient food.
Agriculture is the foundation of the state.
……
After completing this policy essay, Song Ce gripped the brush in his hand, feeling extremely anxious.
Because after trying to figure out the examiners' intentions, he found himself constrained at every turn.
Even expressing himself became difficult.
Among the several Grand Secretaries at the Imperial Academy, several were tutors to princes, holding high positions and great power. As scholars, everyone knew who they were.
Song Ce had even met several of them, and he'd heard that Chief Grand Secretary Gu Yixin had even held him when he was a child...
What were their thoughts?
But if he just went along with all their thoughts, could this country be governed well?
Dong, dong—with two sounds accompanying the bell of the Examination Compound, the exam ended.
Capital clerks came down to collect the papers.
After collecting the exam papers, the examinees rose to leave.
Suddenly, just as one examinee stood up, he stumbled, his body fell to the ground, and he fainted right there.
"Take him to the medical hall."
The chief examiner remained completely calm, directly arranging for officials and guards to carry the person out of the examination hall.
This was too normal.
Every examination, quite a few people would faint.
This was the most important national examination, a turning point that could change one's life. For those without much background, no other options, who had already taken the exam many times—their psychological pressure was particularly heavy.
Aside from the very few who fainted, among the remaining students, quite a few were trembling, in quite a tense state.
Song Ce, however, was in a different state.
His footsteps were light, his thoughts still somewhat adrift.
"Greetings, Young Master Song."
"Young Master Song, are you well?"
"Young Master Song."
All along the way out of the examination hall, people bowed and greeted him.
But he seemed not to hear, continuing to walk.
"Jingming."
It wasn't until Song Shi'an—holding a flatbread in his hand, completely abandoning gentlemanly refinement and eating right there on the street—spoke up that he was pulled back to reality.
Song Shi'an broke off half the flatbread and handed it to him.
"No need," Song Ce refused.
"Forgot—you have a home to return to, young master," Song Shi'an pulled it back.
Young master.
Though Song Ce wasn't angered, he felt that if Father and Mother heard this form of address, Song Shi'an might be beaten to death.
"Your literary talent is extraordinary. Even based on just that subject alone, you could easily pass and become a juren. I'm quite envious," Song Shi'an said in a relaxed, leisurely tone.
"……"
After being told this, Song Ce's anxious heart calmed down somewhat.
Indeed.
Even if my policy essay didn't go well, I can still pass based on lyrical composition alone.
Song Shi'an could see it—his younger brother probably hadn't performed well.
Very normal, really.
His younger brother's talent truly was at the sub-yuan level, no weaker than their father Song Jing.
But he was only fifteen years old. Asking a fifteen-year-old youth to compose elegant poetry was fine, but having him understand 'affairs of state' was truly too difficult.
If he could understand the court's political situation at fifteen, that would be incredible.
After all, not everyone was Uchiha Itachi, possessing Hokage-level thinking at such a young age.
"I'm off then."
After slightly comforting his younger brother whose mentality had been shattered by the exam, Song Shi'an gave a greeting and prepared to leave.
"You're not returning to the estate?" Song Ce asked.
He'd heard Song Shi'an tell the servants this morning that he had plans with the son of the Northern Capital Commandant.
Honestly, this was quite bold.
After what had happened, he still wanted to hang out with those people. Did he have no sense of self-reflection at all?
"Return to what estate?"
To this, Song Shi'an laughed heartily: "I barged through the main gate this morning. If I dare go back today, I'll be beaten to death on the spot."
Song Ce: "……"
After a long silence, he finally understood this person's situation.
It wasn't that he didn't understand propriety.
On the contrary, he understood everything.
But he still chose to do it.
Was this... addicted to getting beaten?
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