Huangming

Chapter 211 The Imperial Inquiry in the Golden Hall: The Emperor's Favor Shines Like Day

The ninth day of the fourth month of the first year of the Tianqi reign.

Before dawn, a thin mist still shrouded the sky, and the faint morning light made the towering walls of the Forbidden City appear even more solemn.

The occasional chirping of insects in the grass by the courtyard wall made the pre-dawn silence seem even more profound.

This day marked the date of the imperial examination for the Gengshen year.

Three hundred and one candidates, dressed in plain blue robes, led by Zhou Yongchun, the Vice Minister of Rites, walked along the Thousand-Step Corridor and finally gathered in front of Chengtian Gate.

The morning breeze was cool, brushing against the clothes of the crowd, but it could not conceal the fervor in their hearts.

The candidates lined up according to their rankings in the imperial examination, waiting for the Jinwu Guards to conduct their inspection.

The guards at the palace gate stood solemnly, their eyes sharp as they examined the identities and documents of each person.

Among the ranks were talented individuals such as Lu Xiangshan, Wen Zhenmeng, and Huang Daozhou. Although they appeared calm, their eyes betrayed their excitement.

After all, this was their first time stepping into the Forbidden City, about to meet the emperor, and participate in the palace examination that would determine their careers.

Lu Xiang-sheng stood in the crowd, his eyes sharp as he slowly scanned his surroundings.

He was known for his photographic memory, but at this moment he realized that several familiar faces were missing from today's palace examination.

However, after a moment's thought, he understood the reason.

Although the palace examination was open to all those who had passed the provincial examination, it was not necessarily open to all those who had passed the provincial examination that year.

Some were overcome with grief due to mourning for their fathers; others were bedridden with illness and unable to concentrate; still others were tied up with family matters and had to postpone their path to officialdom until the following year when they would take the palace examination.

Life is unpredictable; that's just how it is.

now.

Outside Chengtian Gate, more than two hundred burly Han generals in armor stood solemnly on both sides, their eyes fixed intently on the tribute scholars who filed in.

These elite imperial guards were specially deployed during the palace examination, both to demonstrate the imperial majesty and to deter villains.

Under the supervision of officials from the Ministry of Rites, each candidate underwent a rigorous search. Only after confirming that no contraband was found could they follow the Vice Minister of Rites through the majestic Chengtian Gate.

The vermilion palace walls and dark blue roof tiles complement each other, and the carved pillars are faintly visible in the thin mist, creating a solemn atmosphere that makes people dare not speak loudly.

Upon reaching the end of Duanmen, the majestic outline of Wumen suddenly rose from the ground.

At the south gate, the left and right gates stand like loyal guards, responsible for the entry and exit of officials from the outer court; extending northward to the two gates of the Meridian Gate, six magnificent royal residences stand out prominently.

This place, furnished with rosewood desks and a cloud-dragon screen, was a forbidden area where members of the imperial family, nobles, and high-ranking officials waited for court to discuss state affairs.

In contrast, there were endless corridors for the six ministries, where the ink of officials from the six ministries of Personnel, Revenue, Rites, War, Justice, and Works was constantly being scribbled on. Countless decrees concerning the rise and fall of the nation were flowing out from these corridors with their blue bricks and gray tiles.

Many people who saw it felt a sense of longing.

Upon arriving at the Meridian Gate, the candidates lined up according to their rankings in the metropolitan examination. Those with odd numbers entered through the left side gate, while those with even numbers entered through the right side gate.

These two gates are usually kept closed, except for the imperial examinations and grand court assemblies.

When officials entered the court, they could only pass through the side gates on either side of the Meridian Gate. The central gate was the imperial road for the emperor, and only the empress's palanquin for her wedding and the top three scholars in the palace examination could pass through this special road, apart from the emperor.

As the group passed through the secluded Meridian Gate, a breathtaking view suddenly opened up before them, revealing the majestic Fengtian Gate.

On both sides of the Imperial Road, the Huiji Gate and the Guiji Gate stand like twin stars guarding the palace: the Huiji Gate to the east leads to the Wenhua Hall and the Inner Cabinet, while the Guiji Gate to the west connects to the Wuying Hall, both being important passages for entering and exiting the Forbidden City.

The two gates extend north and south to form eleven side rooms.

The East Corridor Records Hall, Jade Register Hall, and Daily Records Hall recorded the emperor's words and deeds and major court events.

The West Corridor Hall compiled the laws and regulations of the world, where the laws of the dynasty continued to thrive amidst the fragrance of ink and the rhythm of paper.

The scholars lingered, secretly thinking: these places might become their offices in the future.

However, after the initial excitement wore off, everyone stood quietly and waited, not daring to make a sound.

"Buzz~"

As the morning bells and drums sounded in unison, the heavy door hinges emitted a dragon-like hum amidst the deep and resonant strains of the "Chaotianzi" music.

The scholars then straightened their clothes and filed in. They saw that the steps in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony were like a jade platform suspended in the clouds. The examiners, led by the Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe, stood on the high steps in scarlet robes and jade belts, like stars surrounding the moon.

Although there was no fear of failure in the palace examination, the gap between the successful candidates and the top three was like the nine steps of the imperial palace:

The top scholar could directly enter the Hanlin Academy as a compiler (a sixth-rank official), while the second and third-ranked scholars were appointed as editors (a seventh-rank official). However, those who passed the imperial examinations with the same degree were mostly appointed as county magistrates of the seventh rank. The difference between them was like heaven and earth, and it often took half a lifetime of ups and downs in officialdom to bridge the gap.

Therefore, no one dared to underestimate the palace examination.

If you perform well in the palace examination, you can avoid taking ten years of detours.

At 1:15 AM, the bells and drums at the Meridian Gate suddenly rang out, their deep sound echoing over the Forbidden City.

A eunuch from the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs led the way, holding a whisk. Emperor Tianqi, Zhu Youxiao, dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe and wearing a gilded winged crown, walked out slowly, surrounded by a group of eunuchs.

Although he looked slightly tired, his piercing gaze still exuded a commanding presence as it swept over the assembled scholars in front of the hall.

More than three hundred candidates had been standing at attention, holding their breath, when the official in charge of ceremonies announced that they had all knelt down.

A series of muffled thuds, each head hitting the ground, echoed clearly across the silent square.

"Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!!"

A chorus of shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" erupted from the crowd. Zhu Youxiao nodded slightly, then with a flick of his dragon sleeve, declared, "In the Gengshen imperial examination, I expect you all to demonstrate your brilliance!"

After speaking, the emperor turned his head to look back, his gaze sweeping over the senior ministers of the cabinet standing solemnly on the steps behind him, before taking his seat on the dragon throne.

Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe, holding the imperial edict on yellow silk, stood on the steps and read it aloud in a booming voice:

By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees:
Having inherited the throne, I have been diligent and attentive day and night. However, the national treasury is currently insufficient, the imperial storehouses are depleted, the border defenses are exhausted, and the people are weary.

There are ancient principles for making money, but times and circumstances change, so how can we be bound by them?
You students are well-versed in both ancient and modern knowledge. Each of you may express your views and elaborate on methods of financial management: some may discuss the benefits of salt and iron, some may discuss the drawbacks of the Grand Canal, some may investigate the methods of taxing land, and some may distinguish the ways of thrift.

The aim is to ensure that the nation is not harmed and the people are not disturbed, that both public and private needs are met, and that preparations are made for both emergencies and urgent matters. He should respond with utmost care, and I will personally review his report.

The hall was solemn. Fang Congzhe's voice, as he read out the policy question, resounded like a great bell. The candidates listened intently, and when they realized that the question was "If the national treasury is insufficient, how can we manage the finances?", many of them changed their expressions.

It doesn't test your understanding of the verses and meanings of the Four Books and Five Classics, but instead directly addresses the practical aspects of financial management and governance!
Those scholars who buried themselves in scriptures all day long had their fingertips trembling slightly at this moment.

They memorized the sages' teachings that "there is a great way to make money," but they never delved into how to clarify the salt tax, how to transport grain, or how to raise funds for border defense.

Some people stared at the words "financial management" on the exam paper, and for a moment they felt that the ink was moving like a snake, and they didn't know where to start.

Faint sighs could be heard from within the queue.

After ten years of diligent study of the classics, I finally realized how weighty the task of "governing the country and bringing peace to the world" truly is when I put pen to paper.

However, there are also those with keen insight.

Lu Xiang-sheng stood with his hands behind his back, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

He had already sensed something amiss from the lines of the Huangming Daily: the war in Liaodong was intensifying in the first year of the Tianqi reign, and the Taicang treasury was running out of silver. His Majesty would surely ask for strategies to generate revenue.

Last night he joked with a friend, "If I were to take a financial exam, I would use Liu Yan's methods to clean up the salt administration and Zhang Juzheng's ambition to assess land ownership." Little did he know that his words would come true today!
He glanced at the crumpled hem of his fellow examinee beside him and sighed inwardly: These scholars who only know "Confucius said" and "The Book of Poetry" are probably going to ramble on about the old theories in "The Rites of Zhou: The Spring and Flood," but they can't compare to the corruption of the grain transport and mining taxes that he saw with his own eyes when he traveled through the prefectures.
The bronze cranes on the steps of the palace, carrying fragrant incense, made his smile even deeper.

He had been preparing his strategy for the imperial examination for several months.

I will definitely take the top scholar in the imperial examination!

"All candidates, please take your seats according to your assigned numbers!"

After the reading was completed, the candidates took their seats in order.

The desk inside the hall had already been meticulously arranged by officials from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, complete with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, and even the angle of the paperweight was exactly the same.

The officials, carrying sealed exam questions and answer sheets, moved through the hall like flowing water, distributing the exam papers one by one.

When the last drop of water clock had dripped out, the imperial examination officially began.

Answering policy questions is like dancing on a knife's edge.

It is necessary to cite classical texts and base our work on the words of sages, while also connecting it to current affairs and analyzing the advantages and disadvantages.

A thousand-word essay must have a structure of breaking down the topic, developing the topic, beginning the discussion, entering the topic, dividing the content, and concluding, progressing step by step, in order to demonstrate true talent and learning.

However, very few people can truly point out the ills of the times.

Most of the responses still focused on praising the emperor's virtues, and the occasional suggestions were merely superficial, as if they were trying to irritate the emperor.

Occasionally, a hothead might claim to be upright and righteous, and vehemently criticize the malpractices in his policy essays, unaware that the examiners have already categorized such papers as "outrageous" and they won't even have the chance to be presented to the emperor.

After all, although the imperial examination was personally administered by the emperor, the final decision on life and death rested with the seventeen examiners who held vermilion pens.

The palace examination began at Chenshi (7-9 AM). According to custom, the emperor would only symbolically stay for a little over an hour, waiting for the candidates to pick up their pens and answer the questions before returning to the palace.

The Grand Secretaries of the Cabinet would often leave temporarily under various pretexts, leaving only the officials in charge to stand solemnly by the side of the hall and supervise the order of the examination.

However, today, Emperor Tianqi, Zhu Youxiao, who was presiding over the palace examination for the first time, acted out of character. He sat upright on his throne, his gaze sharp and fixed on the more than three hundred candidates who were writing furiously at their desks in the hall, showing no intention of leaving.

Upon seeing this, Fang Congzhe and the other cabinet ministers were secretly alarmed and could only stand with their heads bowed, not daring to move.

If the leaders don't leave, they naturally won't dare to leave either.

The water clock dripped slowly, and the shadow of the sun gradually shifted.

The only sound in the hall was the soft rustling of the brush tip against the Xuan paper, occasionally punctuated by a few suppressed coughs.

Three hundred men in green robes hunched over their desks, the fine beads of sweat on their foreheads glistening in the warm spring sun. Even though their throats were parched, none of them dared to raise their hands to wipe away the sweat.

The regulations for the palace examination were as strict as ironclad rules.

From the moment they sat down, the candidates seemed to be nailed to the rosewood official's chair, with only their hands that held the pen able to move, while the rest of their bodies became like clay sculptures.

Occasionally, someone with an urgent need to relieve themselves would turn pale and have blue lips, yet they wouldn't even dare to tremble slightly.

After all, on this imperial throne where the emperor sits with his hands clasped in repose, requesting to use the restroom would be tantamount to blasphemy against the emperor's authority.

Although the "Collected Statutes" clearly state that "tea and snacks are allowed to be brought to the palace examination," looking around, apart from writing brushes, inkstones, and paper, no one dared to place any cakes or pastries on their desks.

The more experienced scholars would arrive early in the morning on an empty stomach, preferring to be starving rather than risk eating in front of the emperor.

The newly appointed scholars were unaware of this, but the pastries hidden in their sleeves often became soggy from the cold sweat on their palms before they could even be taken out.

As the sun's shadow gradually shifted, around noon, people began to put down their pens and hand in their papers.

The first person to stand up was Lu Xiang-sheng.

He calmly straightened his clothes, his brows concealing a sharp edge, yet his eyes held an unwavering determination.

He bowed deeply towards the throne, then bowed to the examiners on either side before presenting the examination paper to them with both hands.

According to regulations, the examination papers should first be sealed by the official in charge of sealing and stamped with the official seal before being handed over to the official in charge of the papers for filing.

Just as the examiner turned to proceed with the usual procedure, Zhu Youxiao suddenly raised his hand and waved it.

This action was like a thunderbolt from the blue. The official in charge of the examination was shocked and immediately took two steps in one, carrying the still-wet ink answer sheet straight to the emperor.

An undercurrent of tension immediately arose within the hall: for so many years, no emperor had ever personally reviewed an unsealed imperial examination paper!

Upon seeing this, Lu Xiang-sheng felt a surge of emotion, but seeing that the Ministry of Rites officials were already standing respectfully beside him, he could only suppress his feelings, straighten his clothes, and leave with them.

As he was leaving the palace, he turned back towards the throne, his gaze sweeping over the still-fragrant scroll of policy essays, and a sense of indescribable melancholy arose within him:

Unexpectedly, His Majesty personally read his written strategy, but unfortunately, these thousands of words could not fully express the strategies in his heart.

The emperor had already taken notice of Lu Xiang-sheng.

I just didn't expect this kid to be so sharp, daring to hand in his paper early.

It should be known that the examiners who had spent their lives studying the classics in the palace examination hall despised such "frivolous" behavior the most.

According to past practice, such exam papers are often categorized as "frivolous," and even those with extraordinary talent cannot escape the fate of falling in ranking.

Zhu Youxiao personally reviewed this scroll to prevent his subordinates from engaging in any underhanded tactics.

The emperor unfurled the scroll, and saw a thunderous force surging between the iron-like strokes and silver hooks.

Lu Xiang-sheng's policy proposals were like a skilled butcher dissecting an ox, breaking down the current government's chronic financial problems into three main aspects and nine sub-items:
The open-source section is incisive, directly pointing out the deep-seated problems of the salt tax in Lianghuai: "The salt certificate system was originally intended to help merchants, but now it has become a tool for the powerful to make profits." It further suggests imitating the Song Dynasty's paper certificate system, requiring salt merchants to "pay grain in exchange for certificates, and conduct annual profit and loss assessments." The discussion on commercial taxes is also incisive, exposing the ugly behavior of the Suzhou Textile Bureau, which "uses tribute as a pretext to carry out exploitation."
The chapter on cost-cutting further demonstrated his audacity, daring to state before the emperor the astonishing fact that "three-tenths of the imperial family's annual stipend is consumed from the imperial granary."
The ability to adapt and change reveals a broad perspective; reforming the currency system, establishing trade with foreign ships, and providing disaster relief are all sound strategies.

Zhu Youxiao's gaze grew even more intense, and he secretly praised him.

This young man is so familiar with the essence of the Huangming Daily, but unfortunately, this mere few thousand words of policy essay is not enough to fully display his strategic thinking.

Indeed, those who leave their mark on history are no ordinary people.

What's even more remarkable is that he was able to integrate the ideas in the Huangming Daily that enlightened the people and revitalized the nation, and put them into his own use. His writings were both sharp and pragmatic, reflecting both the insights of new learning.

This man is a great talent; he should be put to my use!
Fang Congzhe stood below the imperial steps, his eyes never leaving the emperor's expression.

Seeing Zhu Youxiao's eyebrows slightly relaxed and a glint of light flash in his eyes, he immediately understood: this policy proposal must have touched the Emperor's heart.

While adjusting his sleeves, he subtly imprinted Lu Xiang-sheng's powerful calligraphy into his mind, then quickly resumed his mature and composed demeanor, as if the spying had never happened.

However, the slight tightening of his knuckles betrayed the turmoil in the Grand Secretary's heart.

Inside the hall, the water clock dripped, and the sunlight quietly shifted westward on the golden dragon pillars.

Following Lu Xiang-sheng's lead in submitting his paper, other candidates completed their policy essays.

Some submitted their answers with great confidence, some checked them repeatedly with trepidation, and some even smudged their papers with ink due to nervousness, having to rewrite their manuscripts.

In the blink of an eye, the evening drums sounded, and the eaves of the Forbidden City were tinged with the afterglow of the sunset. The bronze crane incense burner in the hall exhaled the last wisp of smoke.

"Your Majesty, it is three-quarters past Shen Shi (3:45 PM)."

Chief examiner Sun Shenxing stepped forward, holding his crimson official robe, his voice low yet clear.

His gaze swept over the figure in the corner of the hall, still writing furiously—the scholar's forehead was covered in sweat, and his right hand holding the pen was trembling slightly, yet he still refused to put down the pen.

"According to the regulations of the 'Collected Statutes,' the palace examination should end at sunset, and the answer sheets should be forcibly collected."

Before the words were finished, a soft 'snap' was heard. It was the examinee who had flipped the inkstone with his sleeve, and the ink had seeped into the dark blue brick floor.

Zhu Youxiao's gaze swept across the imperial desk, taking in the entire scene.

He looked up at the outside of the hall and saw the evening clouds merging together, and the last ray of sunlight was fading from the roof ornaments of Fengtian Gate.

The young emperor suddenly raised his hand to stop Sun Shenxing from finishing his sentence and called out, "Wei Dadang, bring a lamp."

Upon hearing the sound, Wei Chao, the eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, who was standing to the side, moved. He gestured towards the outside of the hall, and in the blink of an eye, a servant carrying a gilded palace lantern entered in small steps.

The candlelight flickered inside the glass lampshade, illuminating the small area brightly.

Zhu Youxiao rose slowly from his throne and accepted the gilded palace lantern presented by the Wei Dynasty.

The candlelight flickered inside the glass lampshade, making the twelve symbols on his bright yellow dragon robe shine brightly.

He slowly descended the steps, the gilded palace lanterns drawing a streak of light in the twilight before finally stopping in front of the scholar in the green robe.

The scholar suddenly felt a bright light before his eyes and looked up to see the emperor himself holding a palace lantern standing beside him. He was so startled that he dropped the wolf-hair brush in his hand.

He hastily rose from his seat and knelt, his forehead slamming heavily onto the blue bricks: "Your humble servant deserves ten thousand deaths! How dare I trouble Your Majesty!"

Zhu Youxiao bent down and took his arm, his fingertips touching the trembling sleeve of the scholar.

The young emperor smiled gently, like a spring breeze in March, and said softly, "I see that your strategy has come to an end, why did you stop writing?"

As he spoke, he moved the gilded palace lantern closer by half a foot, and in the lamplight, one could see that the ink on the answer sheet, "Ten Treatises on Financial Management," was still fresh.

The scholars looked up and saw the emperor's face so close, and felt the warm light of the imperial lamps melt away the chill of late spring.

Two lines of clear tears suddenly slid down, leaving faint watermarks on the rice paper.

When he picked up the wolf-hair brush, he discovered that the brush handle had been wiped clean by the emperor himself.

"Your Majesty, thank you."

The scholar wiped away his tears, took the wolf-hair brush that the emperor had personally wiped clean, and began to write on his answer sheet.

Upon seeing this, all the officials in the hall held their breath and their pupils contracted sharply.

Since the founding of the Hongwu Emperor, when has there ever been such an unprecedented act of grace as the emperor personally holding a palace lantern to illuminate the scrolls of a poor scholar?
At this moment, the hall was so quiet that even the smoke from the bronze crane incense burner was still, with only the candlelight in the gilded palace lantern flickering slightly, reflecting on the trembling tip of the scholar's pen.

Fang Congzhe was stunned; he was completely convinced by the Ming emperor before him.

Such an honor is unprecedented, not only in our dynasty, but also in the entire history!

The ministers and examiners standing below the steps were also filled with turbulent emotions.

They knew in their hearts that from this day forward, these scholars of the Gengshen year would surely serve the emperor to the death to repay his kindness.

His Majesty has shown me such favor; if I do not repay it with my life, would I still be considered a scholar?
As the chief examiner, Sun Shenxing was filled with mixed emotions:
His Majesty is so skilled!

With the lamplight shining, the emperor's reputation for valuing and cherishing talent spread far and wide.

Is this the opportune moment for His Majesty to enter the scene?
At the corner of the hall, the purple-tipped brush in the annotator's hand trembled slightly, and ink dripped onto the "Daily Records," spreading into a dark patch.

He took a deep breath and slowly began to write:
On the ninth day of the fourth month of the first year of the Tianqi reign, the imperial examination of the Gengshen year took place.

As dusk settled and darkness fell within the palace, the emperor personally held a gilded palace lantern to illuminate the scholar's scroll.

The flickering candlelight illuminated the harmonious relationship between the emperor and his ministers, a testament to the emperor's utmost respect for the virtuous and learned, rivaling even the sage kings of the Three Dynasties…

With this stroke of the pen, one's name will be etched in history.

(End of this chapter)