Chapter 143: The End of the Lyrical Composition Examination! |
At the same time, in three examination halls, the lyrical composition section of the imperial examination was being conducted simultaneously.
The main examination hall at the Examination Compound.
And the two auxiliary halls for Big Song, Little Song, and Little Little Song.
An examination of this caliber was bound to be nerve-wracking.
Song Ce had already suffered one bout of stage fright last year, so this time, even though his emotions were equally excited and anxious, his mental state remained unaffected.
Moreover, lyrical composition was precisely his forte.
After the examiner read out the topic and he simultaneously transcribed it onto paper, he grew even more confident.
This year's metropolitan examination for lyrical composition—pure scenic description?
That was his specialty among specialties.
However, having weathered such a great ordeal, Song Ce's insights into officialdom and politics had deepened. He quickly discerned the hidden agenda in this examination.
Although the topic was Chishui River, which seemed intentionally biased toward Song Shi'an who had returned from Shuofeng, anyone with a clear head knew that his greatest strength lay in philosophical reasoning. His "An Exhortation to Learning" was a profound work comparable to the sage's texts. This examination with water as its theme truly benefited...
Sun Qian.
The struggle was hidden within the examination itself.
The old scholars hoped Sun Qian would take first place. Even if it represented nothing substantial, they at least wanted this emerging literary leader to be cultured, noble, moral, and conformist.
But Song Ce wasn't worried in the slightest.
If it was his elder brother, there would definitely be no problem.
————
"In the depths of winter last year, the false Qi raised a force of one hundred thousand to besiege Shuofeng. Their vessels were damaged and sunk, and they ultimately retreated in defeat. The Chishui River flows magnificently, its source emerging from Wumeng Mountain. It irrigates the fertile fields of Liang Prefecture and nourishes the common people. Today it serves as a natural moat, shielding the Yu borders and defending against foreign invaders. Please compose a lyrical piece about this river to glorify the splendor of our sacred dynasty's mountains and rivers. You need not limit yourself to Chishui River—any river within Great Yu's territory is acceptable."
Upon hearing this topic, Song Shi'an smiled.
So little Sun is getting a customized championship, is he?
And it even looks like they're showing favoritism toward me.
All you know are these underhanded tactics.
Whatever. I just won't write about Chishui River, will I?
Great Yu has over a thousand river tributaries. There are far too many to write about.
I just need to select a piece I've memorized well from my mental archive.
Honestly speaking, Song Shi'an really hadn't stored up many purely scenic description pieces.
But to put it another way, anything he specifically committed to memory must be a timeless masterpiece.
They were magnificent works that even this Great Yu's latitude couldn't contain.
And quite conveniently, Great Yu had so many rivers that he didn't even need to change the names.
Si Prefecture was the center of the realm.
Aside from a new city like Sheng'an, there was also an old city that now served merely as a commandery seat—Luo City.
In other dynasties, it had briefly served as the capital for a few generations.
It could be considered to have some strategic importance.
The river that Luo City depended on was the Luo River.
Actually, it wasn't entirely coincidental. This fictional dynasty didn't differ much geographically from actual history. Si Prefecture was roughly equivalent to Henan, with far too many similar place names. It was just that this Luo City had lost its core position in the imperial center.
Well then, time to begin writing.
Although due to location, era, and historical allusions, there were many aspects that couldn't align with Great Yu, and he'd need to make minor modifications without changing the essential flavor—
Those passages of literary brilliance and exquisite description could be freely employed.
On the draft paper, he raised his brush and began to invoke the spirits!
————
The moment Sun Qian heard the topic, his expression suddenly froze.
A lyrical composition examination purely describing mountains and rivers—it hadn't appeared in many years.
Previous ones had basically emphasized philosophical reasoning.
But now, there was no philosophy to discuss at all.
Could Father have intervened?
No, if that were the case, he couldn't possibly have failed to tell me.
It was those Grand Secretaries, openly challenging the Emperor, trying to promote me.
What a tedious bunch of people.
Do I need your help?
Sun Qian dismissed it.
But since it was within his comfort zone, he should perform with full effort.
He put brush to paper with five characters: "Ode to Great Yu's Mountains and Rivers."
"As for the Great River, it originates from the mystic gardens of Kunlun, pouring forth the celestial streams of the stars. Cleaving through Qilian, it opens a vast chasm; traversing Qin and Long, it descends through Dragon Gate. Nine curves nurture the spiritual meridians; ten thousand ravines rush forth concealing mystical dragons. Waves crash against mighty passes, once shattering the steeds of Ji Wang; torrents sink Qi swords..."
————
Anyone who could pass the juren examination was among the elite of scholars. Literary composition in the lyrical style was the primary form of this era, and everyone had a respectable baseline competency. When this topic was announced, the vast majority were quite satisfied.
Truly, it was remarkably simple.
Compared to last year's provincial examination topic of "books," there was no difficulty whatsoever.
The conceptual framework existed within a universally acknowledged scope, unlike "books," whose boundaries stretched infinitely wide—the deeper, the better.
Pivoting to patriotism was certainly acceptable. National and ethnic sentiment had always been the main theme among scholars since ancient times.
But just as main-theme essays were notoriously difficult to write perfectly, in scholarship, shortcuts were paradoxically the hardest paths to take.
The assembled Grand Secretaries of the Imperial Academy all thought so.
Having read extensively, they believed there was only one criterion for evaluation—
"This year will certainly produce many beautiful compositions," said Sun Kang, the chief examiner for lyrical composition, with considerable anticipation.
"It's been rare to have such a straightforward topic," the others echoed. "Scholars with strong writing ability will definitely exert their full efforts toward elegance and beauty."
"Elegance has never been a flaw, unless it's the empty towers built from contrived textual embellishment," Gu Yixin also said. "Compositions that use language purely for decorative flourish, hollow and devoid of substance—the examining scholars should be able to discern them."
These old scholars naturally understood what constituted good writing versus "what appears to be good writing."
But this distinction was difficult for those whose learning hadn't reached that level to differentiate.
It was like how jianghu-style calligraphy was criticized by laymen, and then those laymen would attack the mainstream for creating academic barriers.
Some poor poetry—many people simply couldn't tell it was bad.
Admittedly, there were indeed some calligraphy masters who were full of shit and just seeking attention, but most possessed relatively high accomplishment.
The same applied to literary composition.
What kind of writing actually constituted good writing.
How to distinguish between genuine literary craftsmanship and writing for writing's sake.
These were things every writer should study.
First, good writing must flow smoothly.
The vocabulary could be abstruse, but it couldn't all be incomprehensible obstacles.
Second, the imagery should progress in layers, giving a sense of spatial and temporal imagination.
One couldn't write something without any sense of cinematography, hammering here and pounding there, chaotic and disorganized, then stubbornly claim: "This is montage."
Finally, and most importantly, the expressed meaning.
Which composition that has endured through the ages doesn't tell a clear story?
Doesn't convey some state of mind from the author?
"Master Gu, but I still feel we can't place excessive trust in these Imperial Academy scholars," Zhang Zhao said. "We need to review more papers ourselves. There won't be any good compositions that slip through, but I'm afraid writings of trivial significance will be praised."
"Indeed," Gu Yixin nodded. "With this type of examination topic, which hasn't appeared for many sessions, I fear the students below might think rigidly and blindly follow a fixed formula."
The so-called blind following of a fixed formula meant applying templates to compositions.
Having grandeur, magnificence, classical allusions, and a final elevating sublimation—that was considered good writing.
"Exactly," Sun Kang understood this point best and said, "Some students are quite cunning. They stitch together dozens of compositions, modifying beautiful sentences from various works, cobbling them together. Some young people who haven't read much will still praise them enthusiastically."
Everyone shared a common understanding.
Namely, this lyrical composition examination was about showing off skills.
But some skills were stolen.
The Grand Secretaries whose daily work was editing and reading books obviously understood this, but what about the other examining scholars?
"There will probably be close to three thousand compositions in total," Zhang Zhao said. "They should all be decent, but those that are immediately impressive will likely number around six to seven hundred. We'll personally grade these papers. Then we'll select the truly excellent ones and rank them."
That meant... averaging about a hundred papers per person.
Hearing this, everyone felt the pressure mounting.
"Master Gu can review fewer, I'll review more," Zhang Zhao also feared overworking the old man and added with a smile.
"Thank you for your consideration," Gu Yixin joked with Zhang Zhao sarcastically, then decided, "Alright. We can't let good compositions slip through, nor can we let incompetents exploit loopholes."
The so-called incompetents exploiting loopholes meant allowing some compositions of undeserved merit to bypass the Grand Secretaries' review and, through clever stitching, be rated as second-tier.
Although this imperial examination only recruited thirty jinshi, second-tier would already be beyond the hundredth rank.
But there was still another examination section!
If someone scraped by with second-tier here but performed excellently on the policy essay, reaching mid-first-tier, when combined, they could possibly squeeze into the jinshi margin. That was entirely possible.
The jinshi degree only admitted thirty people.
That didn't mean both sections had to be in the top thirty.
Those who ranked in the top thirty for both sections would probably end up in the top ten overall—terrifyingly strong.
"Since we're determining the rankings, should we pull out Song Shi'an's and Sun Qian's papers?" someone furtively asked.
This was indeed a valid question.
Unlike the jinshi examination, the papers elevated for the Grand Secretaries' review would all be transcribed.
If they were trying to create momentum for a zhuangyuan, what if they accidentally ranked someone else higher?
"Are you suggesting they can't achieve first-tier?" Gu Yixin asked.
"First-tier is definitely no problem, but with thousands of examinees across the realm, for the top ten..."
"If they don't have the ability to stand out at a glance, do they still expect to be our Great Yu's zhuangyuan?" Gu Yixin decisively stated. "Grade as they should be graded."
————
Very quickly, Song Shi'an finished writing this composition with partial modifications on the draft paper.
After reviewing it multiple times, he finally transcribed it onto the final examination paper.
The characters were neat and orderly, without a single smudge. Presentation score was also a quite important component of grading.
After a while, he finished writing.
Slowly, he set down his brush.
The examining scholar in front of him was stunned.
Did this mean he was finished?
"Submitting my paper."
Song Shi'an raised his head.
"..." The scholar froze, because less than half a shichen had passed. So he confirmed, "There's still much time remaining before the end. Are you certain you want to submit now?"
Although this topic was simple, composition required careful selection of words and phrases.
To complete it at such speed was equivalent to...
Improvising on the spot?
"Yes."
Song Shi'an answered without hesitation.
Upon hearing this word, the scholar solemnly stood up: "Anonymize it."