Chapter 147: The Imperial Examination

The Imperial Examination, also known as the Court Examination, was always held after the Provincial Examination, traditionally in March. When the imperial examination system was first established in the third year of the Hongwu era, the date for the Imperial Examination was set for the third day of March. After the system was suspended for over a decade, it was reinstated in the eighteenth year of Hongwu, with the first day of March once again designated as the examination date. Nevertheless, there were exceptions. In the seventh year of the Yongle era, due to Emperor Yongle Zhu Di’s northern inspection, the Imperial Examination was postponed by two years and finally held in the ninth year of Yongle. This time, too, it was delayed by more than ten days, eventually set for March 18th.

The Imperial Examination was conducted by the emperor himself, making it an exceptionally solemn occasion. Unlike the Provincial Examination, which focused solely on classics and history, this examination tested not only classical knowledge but also current affairs. When the topics were announced, the more than 200 candidates in the hall focused intently, including Zhang Yue.

“There must be essential principles for an emperor to govern the realm. In ancient times, sages managed the world simply by wearing their robes; the governance during the Tang and Yu dynasties was clear and straightforward, with their administrative systems recorded in books… The Rites of Zhou were created by the Duke of Zhou—why are they so complicated? They differ greatly from the non-interventionist approach of the Tang and Yu dynasties. Yet their laws and regulations were extremely precise and could be applied throughout the realm. Why were they abandoned by the Qin dynasty? The Han dynasty inherited the flaws of the Qin but was not far removed from the Zhou system; it could have restored the old ways. Why did it continue the old practices instead of adopting those of the Tang dynasty… It is commonly said that the key to good governance lies in unity of morality and customs. But with such a vast world, numerous livestock, and diverse regions with different customs and dietary habits, how can morality and customs be unified? You scholars are well-versed in classics, history, and current affairs. Please elaborate in detail on anything that could contribute to good governance—do not hide anything. I will personally review them.”

Upon realizing that the topic for this examination was about governance, Zhang Yue immediately came up with numerous ideas. After pondering for a long time, he began to write.

Compared to the preliminary and provincial examinations, the Imperial Examination did not require candidates to squeeze into small examination rooms in the examination halls, nor were they searched for prohibited items. After paying their respects to the emperor, the candidates devoted themselves wholeheartedly to the task. Although they were all candidates, the rankings in the top three tiers were extremely important. Ending up at the bottom of the list was certainly not an honorable outcome. Even Zhang Yue forgot his grandmother’s advice. After all, could he decide whether he would end up in the top, second, or third tier?

Those who have served as chief examiners in the imperial examinations have always been the most favored civil officials in the emperor’s court. For example, in the second year of Yongle, it was Xie Jin; in the fifth year, Hu Guang; and in the ninth year, Yang Shiqi. This time, in the Wu Xu session of the sixteenth year of Yongle, it was Yang Rong, a Hanlin academician, who served as the chief examiner. Compared to the several candidates in their fifties among those who passed the examinations, he, in his forties, appeared extremely energetic. With a few strands of beard beneath his chin, he exuded a refined and scholarly demeanor. The older examiners sitting there seemed even more like mere backdrop.

By this time, the emperor had already left, and Yang Rong’s gaze swept over the candidates one by one. When he saw Zhang Yue, he couldn’t help but smile slightly. Zhu Di had unwavering trust in the Zhang family. Thanks to Zhang Fu, the Duke of Yingguo, Zhang Yue was able to join the ranks of candidates despite his young age, but his writing skills still needed time to improve. Thus, even if he passed the examination this year, he couldn’t expect to rank high. However, it was likely that Zhu Di didn’t care about his ranking; all that mattered was whether he would pass.

That said, even if the current emperor liked Zhang Yue very much, he would surely not allow a close relative of a top military official to enter the cabinet.

At this moment, Zhang Yue had no time to pay attention to others. Although the examination included official test papers and draft paper, he only had one day. If he spent time drafting before transcribing, he would definitely be too late. So, after glancing at his draft, he simply began writing right away.

The weather in March in the north was still cold, but he managed to fill three sheets of paper in one go. By the time he had written about a thousand characters, his forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat. Only then did he glance around and see that everyone else was also concentrating intensely, with sweat on their foreheads. So he stopped looking around and continued writing along his train of thought. Gradually, he realized the benefits of practicing calligraphy regularly—his neat, small characters flowed smoothly from his pen with little effort, looking quite pleasing to the eye.

Perhaps Du Zhen had thought of this moment when he practiced calligraphy relentlessly in the bitter cold of winter.

Just like modern exam supervisors, the chief examiner of this imperial examination didn’t sit motionless. After sitting for over an hour, Yang Rong began walking among the candidates’ seats, even picking up some of the already-transcribed papers to take a look. With hundreds of papers, the examiners only had three short days to grade them, so it was impossible to assess them all completely fairly. Their best effort was to present the top-quality papers to the emperor. As the chief examiner—and since all the candidates this year were his students—he naturally hoped to identify more talented individuals, which would bring honor to him in the future.

He flipped through many test papers along the way, keeping in mind those students whose essays were exceptionally outstanding, growing increasingly satisfied. It seemed that there would be no shortage of excellent submissions this time, and he could finally put aside his biggest concern. When he reached Zhang Yue’s desk, he casually picked up the test paper and saw the same neat, precise handwriting as before, nodding in approval.

Upon reading the essay more carefully, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Seeing that Zhang Yue was completely absorbed and unaware of him, he stood there in thought for a moment before putting down the paper. He then wandered around a bit, taking a look at Zhang Zhuo’s essay as well—finding it satisfactory enough before moving on. Instead, he spent quite some time by the youngest candidate, Xia Ji’s desk.

If Zhang Yue had surprised him greatly, then this fifteen-year-old boy surprised him even more. The essay wasn’t flawless, but it exuded a sharpness that stood in stark contrast to the boy’s seemingly casual demeanor. He himself had entered the imperial examination hall at just thirty-one, considered young for success, and now, looking back at these young candidates, he felt an inexplicable sense of melancholy.

High position, but an aged heart—“You can’t buy back your youth with gold.” Truly, it’s a timeless truth.

That day, after the palace examination, the examiners collected both the test papers and drafts. Some candidates still hadn’t finished copying their work, lamenting bitterly, including the worried Wan Shijie. However, after Yang Rong spoke to him with a smile, his expression immediately brightened. It wasn’t until after leaving the palace that Zhang Yue asked curiously, prompting him to chuckle.

“Although my paper is unfinished, Scholar Yang said my ten-thousand-word essay was good and would surely be submitted along with the draft for the emperor’s review. I certainly don’t expect to rank first, but if I can get second place as an ‘unfinished paper,’ I’ll be satisfied!” After saying this, he suddenly grabbed Zhang Yue beside him and asked with a grin, “I caught a quick glimpse of you in my busy schedule—did you write your essay without drafting it?”

Zhang Zhuo, being older, wasn’t too concerned about rankings. Remembering that he had ranked above Zhang Yue in the previous examination, likely because the examiners moved him ahead under the principle that a son shouldn’t surpass his father, he felt a bit apologetic. So when he heard Wan Shijie’s question and saw no sign of frustration on Zhang Yue’s face, he was surprised.

“Writing without drafting—aren’t you afraid the examiners will question you for having an empty draft, breaking the rules?”

“A proctor did question me, but I replied that drafts are required during exams just to prevent cheating. With everyone watching now, how could there be cheating? Why worry? Scholar Xiao Yang came over and naturally let me go.” Zhang Yue smiled. Seeing Wan Shijie marveling, he said irritably, “You know my handwriting. If I had to write a draft, I definitely wouldn’t be able to finish transcribing it. Today, I worked hard to write just over three thousand characters in my essay, unlike you, who wrote almost ten thousand.”

At that moment, Xia Ji also caught up from behind. He familiarly called out “Elder Wan” to Wan Shijie and greeted Zhang Yue as well. Upon learning that Zhang Zhuo was Zhang Yue’s father, he was surprised but immediately gave a thumbs up. “They say ‘father is a Jinshi, son is a Jinshi’—but I’ve never heard of siblings both passing the exam. Yuanjie, you and your father are truly amazing!”

Zhang Zhuo had already heard Zhang Yue talk about this youngest Jinshi, so he wasn’t embarrassed by the praise. Thus, the four of them walked along while chatting and laughing. Their large age gap drew frequent glances from others. Wan Shijie, who had often interacted with Yang Shiqi and was somewhat famous among scholars in the south, was recognized by many people who came up to greet him. Naturally, those scholars asked Wan Shijie to introduce the others around him.

“The others I may not know, but I recognize Zhang Yue and Zhang Yuanjie!”

Suddenly, a voice came from the side. Zhang Yue turned to look and vaguely remembered the person’s face—it seemed to be one of the scholars he had met by chance at Yang Shiqi’s residence when the emperor and crown prince were there. Although the man was smiling, his tone carried a strong hint of envy.

“He’s a disciple of Lord Du, the current governor of Shandong. His courtesy name was given by Scholar Da Yang. He’s even met the emperor and crown prince. Not only that, but he’s also the nephew of the Duke of Ying. When the Duke fell seriously ill at the end of last year, he rushed from Nanjing to Beijing to care for him, more filial than his own sons. The emperor, pleased, granted him the title of Juren. After all, he’s from a prominent family—how can we common scholars compare to him?”

Since the establishment of the imperial examinations during the Hongwu era, conflicts between scholars from the north and south never ceased. The most famous incident was that of the Hongwu 30th year’s examination results. Since almost all of the 51 successful candidates were from the south, scholars from the north staged a protest. As a result, Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang not only severely punished the examiners but also executed the top scorer, Chen Yi. In June, another examination was held, with almost all candidates being from the north. This dramatic incident led to lasting enmity between the northern and southern literary circles.

Thus, provoked in this way, the southern scholars began to look at Zhang Yue differently. After all, the place was close to the Western Palace, and since they were all from the same year, it was unlikely they would really get into a serious conflict. Yet, some couldn’t help but speak sarcastically. “If I had such relatives and teachers, I could become a successful candidate not only before the age of 16 but even the top scorer.”

Zhang Yue, having lived two lives, was unfazed by such mockery and didn’t want to get involved in meaningless disputes. But instead of responding, someone beside him couldn’t help but sneer, “I’m even younger than Yuan Jie, and I don’t have any noble relatives! Ambition has nothing to do with age. You’re older but still can’t pass the exams early—what’s the point of blaming others?”

The speaker was a middle-aged man in his forties with a sharp chin. Hearing this, he immediately grew furious. Unexpectingly, Xia Ji stepped forward to take responsibility for him. Zhang Yue frowned but couldn’t stay idle any longer. Before the man could speak again, he sternly warned, “Everyone, remember that our mentor, Scholar Xiao Yang, became a successful candidate at 29 and entered the imperial cabinet at 31. If you want to talk about him, fine. But focusing on age and criticizing him—where does that put Scholar Xiao Yang?”

After those words, silence fell around them. Though dissatisfied, the southern scholars didn’t dare say much more and left in frustration. Only after they left did Wan Shijie helplessly wave his hands at Zhang Yue. “Today’s trouble was all caused by me. I’m truly sorry, Yuan Jie! These people are stubbornly fixated on their views—once they decide something is right, it’s right, and once they decide it’s wrong, it’s wrong. They’re extremely difficult to deal with!”