EES - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Back at the Imperial Palace, An Lin worked off her frustration by furiously plowing through ten jin of memorials. Her spirits finally recovered when Wang Xiuwen passed her orders concerning Li Sheng on to the Court of Judicial Review and she remembered that, in one day, she had also picked up a top civil minister and a promising detective.

I should have been prepared. I can't get lucky every time.

Perhaps meeting Qiancai and Li Sheng had used up all my good luck.

With a calm mind, An Lin instructed Wang Xiuwen to take away the memorials he had processed and distribute the next day's tasks to the various ministries. Only then did she yawn, head to bed, and decline any midnight refreshments.

Imperial robes were usually close-fitting, so even a little weight gain would show. Having so many remade would cost a lot, so I figured I should stay in shape. At least the young emperor had left me a decent-looking body. I couldn't let future portraits show me as a fat emperor. That would be my way of returning the favor... though maybe that's not how the idiom works.

...

In any case.

Before long, the day of the Palace Examination arrived.

All dozens of scholars who had qualified as Palace Examination candidates gathered within the Hall of State for the morning audience. The attending ministers, facing these men who would soon enter the bureaucracy and might one day become their own colleagues, displayed a rare degree of attentiveness. Several officials with unmarried daughters of marriageable age scrutinized them all the more closely.

Against this solemn and tense backdrop, An Lin took her seat upon the Dragon Throne. Following a few brief introductory words from her personal Chief Steward, Wang Xiuwen, she summoned several Grand Secretaries who had prepared the examination prompts, instructing them to proceed with the formal policy questioning of the candidates.

An Lin, meanwhile, simply glanced at the stat lines hovering above each candidate's head.

The policy essays for the Palace Examination differed markedly from those of the Metropolitan Exam. The latter emphasized literary grace and scholarly knowledge, testing one's ability to compose essays. The former, however, assessed an emperor's approach to governing the realm, questions deeply tied to public welfare and statecraft.

I wonder whether Liu Guanglin had memorized this kind of policy question.

After sweeping her gaze across the hall, An Lin singled out three individuals whose numerical ratings stood a clear notch above the rest. Silently, she finalized the First Class rankings in her mind.

The Top Scholar was undoubtedly Yang Sheng.

However, when she noticed Liu Guanglin's face light up upon hearing the initial prompt, followed immediately by him bowing his head to scribble rapidly on paper without a trace of contemplation, she narrowed her eyes. Her mind shifted. She gestured toward Song Jinyuan, who held the draft prompts. "Minister Song, We shall pose a few policy questions now. We shall see what questions you have prepared."

Grand Secretary Song Jinyuan was puzzled by the sudden change, yet he dutifully submitted the draft prompts anyway.

An Lin took the prompts and skimmed them. She did not claim to draft entirely new questions on her own, knowing full well her classical education fell short. Instead, she merely altered some of the broader, open-ended answer directions into pointed, substantive inquiries. That was hardly difficult; the memorials were already rife with reports on local administrative shortcomings.

"As for the second inquiry," she began, "We shall address public welfare. We have heard that Yunzhou Prefecture has suffered years of merchant disruptions, driving prices to absurd heights..." Tapping her fingers lightly against the Dragon Throne's armrest, An Lin wove together the various situations detailed in the memorials with Yunzhou's unique geography to formulate a livelihood-focused question concerning market pricing.

I'd wanted to straighten out Yunzhou's situation for some time. Its current prefect was deeply entangled in official-merchant collusion; who knew how much he'd embezzled? If anyone besides Qiancai answered well, I could choose Yunzhou's next prefect from among them.

Upon hearing the questions, the scholars in the hall fell into deep thought. After a lengthy silence, they gradually began to set pen to paper.

Liu Guanglin, however, found his brush tip frozen above the paper, unable to descend.

How could the prompts have changed so abruptly?

The examination papers from the year Yang Sheng secured the Top Scholar title had become legendary. Because Yang Sheng himself would go down in history, and his answer sheet had been meticulously preserved and passed down to modern times, eventually housed in a museum, a teacher of Liu Guanglin's had once dedicated an entire class to analyzing it.

It was precisely for this reason that Liu Guanglin, a transmigrator, had dared to take the gamble. He entered the examination hoping to secure a degree and a government post.

If his memory served him correctly, the second policy question in history should have concerned moral governance. He had already prepared to recite a classical prose passage from his eighth-grade language textbook, which shared the same theme. It was an essay written by another renowned scholar who had taken the Top Scholar title centuries later. Liu Guanglin was confident that relying on that text alone would guarantee him at least the Top Scholar or Second-Ranked graduate position.

But why had the questions changed so suddenly!

Liu Guanglin remained frozen in place, cold sweat trickling down his spine until his robe grew clammy. His palms slickened with perspiration. Around him, the other scholars scratched steadily at their paper. The solemn, hushed atmosphere pressed heavily upon his nerves.

Think! Think faster! Quickly scan your memory for any similar classical passages you might have memorized!

The more frantic he grew, the emptier his mind became. Amidst the panic, a far more terrifying suspicion began to surface.

Had Emperor Xuanming somehow detected his irregularities?

Otherwise, why would the policy questions be altered to diverge completely from recorded history? It appeared to be a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Dread and apprehension swelled within him. Desiring a covert glance upward, he lifted his chin just slightly, and every hair on his body stood rigid with shock.

He saw the handsome young sovereign resting his chin on his hand, watching his rigid form with a faint smile. Those eyes behind the ceremonial crown seemed to silently ask, Why have you stopped writing?

He had found out. He must have discovered everything!

In that split second, Liu Guanglin's mind flashed back to the biography of Emperor Xuanming, a text he had memorized and been examined on countless times.

On history enthusiast forums, Emperor Xuanming, formerly Prince Junming, had long been dubbed the "Cheat Emperor." It was not merely because he was the only ruler in history to achieve an unprecedented grand unification, but also because of his uncanny ability to assess and place talent. The most extreme accounts claimed that a single glance from him was enough to determine exactly where any individual belonged.

Both official records and numerous unofficial histories stressed a particular phrase: "There are no secrets before the throne." It meant precisely that nothing could be hidden from Emperor Xuanming. Liu Guanglin's high school history teacher, a devoted admirer of the emperor, had once explained this in class. He noted that many officials of the era, out of reverence and caution, replaced the character for "emperor" with "Diting" whenever they referenced him in correspondence or memoirs.

The term Diting implied omniscience.

Even the monarchs of states absorbed into Xuan's domain had reportedly muttered things akin to, "It feels as though I am not opposing human beings."

The more Liu Guanglin dwelled on it, the more terrified and frantic he became. Regret flooded his chest. Why had he ever decided to sit for this examination?

It was not until the palace attendants descended to collect all the answer sheets that Liu Guanglin finally managed to draw a ragged breath. When his senses fully returned, he was drenched in sweat. The scholar seated beside him cast a curious glance at him as he panted heavily.

The remainder of the Palace Examination proved even more agonizing for Liu Guanglin. He desperately scoured his memory for any classical passages that might loosely connect to the prompts, frantically copying them down. It felt like being back in school, stuck on a liberal-arts short-answer question and unable to remember the answer, so he wrote down whatever fragments came to mind to pad the word count and hoped the teacher's eyes would glaze over long enough to give him some points.

Throughout the proceedings, after circulating the candidates' answer sheets, both the Emperor and the Grand Secretaries frequently praised Yang Sheng's responses. They would summon him to clarify specific points, asking, "Why did you answer it this way?" Yang Sheng would respond with calm confidence, utterly unruffled by praise or scrutiny.

Facing the live policy examination, Liu Guanglin clearly perceived the chasm between himself and those destined to leave a lasting legacy.

Shrinking among the dozens of scholars, Liu Guanglin did his utmost to minimize his presence. He paid no mind to the acquaintances among them, who were openly bewildered by his lackluster performance.

At last, the grueling Palace Examination concluded. In a favorable mood, An Lin announced the results. "We hereby grant Yang Sheng and two others the Palace Graduate degree in the First Class. Fifteen candidates shall receive the Palace Graduate degree in the Second Class, and the rest in the Third Class. By imperial edict, We confer on Yang Qiancai court robes, cap, and belt, and appoint him a Compiler in the Hanlin Academy and concurrently a Deputy Director in the Ministry of Revenue."

After finishing, An Lin exchanged a look with her newly appointed favorite minister, Qiancai. Her gaze seemed to say, Sorry to put you through this.

I'd love to drop my dazzling favorite minister straight into a post like Chief Minister or Chancellor, but that would be too shocking. I could suppress the other officials' surprise and objections, but it wouldn't help build their loyalty. I'd rather spare Qiancai the seniority grind in the Hanlin Academy and put him straight to work, but I know experience there matters for a bureaucratic career.

Very well. Let him serve as Compiler for now.

A Hanlin Compiler's duty was to record the Emperor's words and deeds. Would that not require frequent proximity to the throne? The more he lingered nearby, the easier it would be for the Emperor to summon him for a task whenever needed. It was only natural.

Once given responsibilities, performing well and earning a promotion would follow logically, would it not?

It was a classic case of advancing by retreating.

The sensation that the Emperor's gaze constantly rested upon him was merely an illusion. An Lin certainly did not have the bandwidth to stare at him continuously. She had only cast a casual, dismissive glance at the useless transmigrator at the outset; thereafter, her appreciative attention remained fixed solely on her prized favorite minister.

Only after receiving the edict alongside the other scholars and stepping out of the Hall of State did Liu Guanglin feel as though he had truly come back to life. The sunlight striking his face brought a slow return of warmth to his chilled limbs.

"Brother Liu, how did your Palace Examination go this time..." Once outside, the scholar beside him finally could not contain himself and voiced the question.

Wiping his brow, Liu Guanglin forced a reply. "I... I was simply too nervous. Whenever I get anxious, my mind goes completely blank."

"That explains it," another scholar murmured, noting his paper-white complexion. He offered a sympathetic sigh. "The Emperor's bearing is truly awe-inspiring. I myself was so nervous my hands sweated profusely; I nearly dropped my brush."

Liu Guanglin finally allowed his tight heart to settle.

As they prepared to depart under the guidance of the escorting attendants, Liu Guanglin spotted a palace attendant emerging from a side door of the Hall of State. The attendant approached the newly minted graduates and read aloud from an imperial edict detailing their appointments. "Liang Honghou shall be appointed as an Official in the Bureau of Memorials. Zhao... shall serve as Hanlin Academy Archivist... Liu Guanglin shall be appointed as Clerk of the Ministry of Works."

Liu Guanglin froze. Wait... why?

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