I just passed the imperial examination, what the heck is this "Celestial Official System"?

"Mahe, 48 jin, passed!"

"Wu Lei, 59 jin, approved!"

"Stop dawdling! If you can't produce the full weight of spirit wheat, you'll get a grade of D!"

"Don't try to be unreasonable. The spirit has indicated it won't shortchange you."

Loud shouts echoed throughout the courtyard of the farmhouse, where a scale the size of the house stood in the center.

Don't let her ordinary appearance fool you.

That's a magical artifact crafted by the workshop's weapon refiners. It can not only weigh the spirit wheat, but also measure the amount of spiritual energy it contains, preventing anyone from passing off inferior goods as superior ones.

Where there is joy, there is sorrow.

Those agricultural officials who fail to grow enough spiritual wheat will be recorded in their files, affecting them for at least three years. If they fail again the following year, they will be demoted or even dismissed from their posts.

Of course, it was like losing one's parents.

"Song Li, 21 jin, approved!"

A burly man with a thick beard loudly proclaimed Song Li's name and achievements.

"Thank you, sir."

Song Li smiled and cupped his hands in greeting.

"polite."

To prevent favoritism and corruption, the junior examiners in the nine departments of the county government take turns supervising each other. This time, the supervisor of the farmhouse is the worker from the workshop.

The burly and robust official felt a sense of comfort upon hearing the words "Sir."

Like Song Li, he entered the workshop through the Dao Ju system.

He spent all day forging iron in front of the furnace, and almost forgot that he had once been a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations.

Where have I ever heard anyone refer to themselves as a person?

Suddenly, Song Li seemed incredibly pleasing to the eye.

"If Lord Song comes to the workshop in the future, you can look for me. My name is Zhu Ran."

Zhu Ran laughed as she spoke.

The county government office appears to be just a government office.

But actually, the one in the center of Shannan County should be called the County Magistrate's Mansion, which is the residence of the County Magistrate. The other nine offices each have their own independent offices. The Farmhouse, in particular, is the only one of the nine offices located outside the city due to its special function.

These low-ranking officials from the nine departments didn't have many opportunities to interact with other departments on a regular basis.

Taking turns supervising is a good opportunity.

What goes around comes around. Today it's the workshop assessing the farmhouse, but who knows, the roles might be reversed on another day. Of course, it's best to be kind to everyone.

"Lord Zhu, let's meet often in the future."

Upon hearing himself addressed as "Sir" again, the burly Zhu Ran almost groaned out in pleasure.

Song Li retreated back into the crowd.

There were more than fifty agricultural officials like him in the farmhouse.

Most of these people were experienced veterans, and there were only four newcomers like him and Zhao Hui.

Song Li paid special attention to his previous grades.

The assessment results are not fixed, but are determined by both the time spent in the farmhouse and the cultivation level. Otherwise, it would be unreasonable to use the same standard as those experienced farmhouse cultivators who have not yet entered the rank.

Upon closer examination...

He then noticed something amiss.

Most cultivators barely exceed the standard; very few fall far below it, and even fewer exceed it significantly.

Both are above average.

As a result, Song Li's original expectation of being above average was squeezed into being average.

In terms of statistical knowledge from my past life, it does not conform to a normal distribution.

How could he not see it?

These agricultural officials likely shared similar thoughts with him; none of them intended to draw too much attention, but they also didn't want to fail the assessment, so they all tacitly chose to strive for above-average results.

"Anyone who can stay in a farmhouse for a full year is definitely not a fool."

A gasp interrupted Song Li's thoughts.

"Thirty jin, passed the test, top grade!"

The first person to receive a top grade in this assessment has emerged.

Song Li's gaze passed through the crowd and landed on a fair-skinned young man standing in front of the spirit tablet.

"Chen Gong?"

Song Li recognized him.

The young man was a scholar who entered the farmhouse in the same batch as him and Zhao Hui.

However, Chen Gong came from a prestigious family and looked down on Song Li's family background of farming and studying, as well as Zhao Hui's humble origins.

Unlike Song Li and Zhao Hui.

Before even entering the farmhouse, Chen Gong had already been exposed to cultivation within his family. He was barely of age when he was about to reach the next level of cultivation.

Looking back at its predecessor.

He was over thirty years old when he passed the Taoist examination, and he only began practicing cultivation after moving to a farmhouse.

Potential is not something that can be discussed at the same time.

Even though one's lifespan can be extended after one's cultivation improves, the time spent engaging in cultivation, or rather, passing the Daoist examinations, has always been an extremely important factor in the assessment and promotion process.

Let's just say that.

Between a thirty-year-old Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination) and an eighteen-year-old Juren (successful candidate in the provincial imperial examination), many superiors would prefer the latter.

Chen Gong might actually succeed.

Many agricultural repairmen also cast envious glances at Chen Gong.

Even the farm manager Zheng and the workshop manager, who were supervising the examination, turned their attention to Chen Gong, nodding and discussing him from time to time.

Half an hour passed.

Ninety percent of the agricultural officials in the compound have completed the assessment.

Only four or five people were still dawdling, and it was obvious that they already knew they couldn't complete the assessment.

This includes Liu Ding.

Liu Ding endured the intense pain surging in his lower body, occasionally casting resentful glances at Song Li.

"Damn it!"

He cursed inwardly.

He originally planned to bully newcomers and steal Song Li's spirit wheat to help him complete the assessment, but he didn't expect Song Li to catch him off guard.

Stealing chickens will not lose rice.

Not only did they fail to steal the spirit wheat, they also ended up with injuries. After wasting these past few days, they only have a pitiful thirteen catties of spirit wheat left.

Even achieving a grade of D is difficult.

Ding grade is the lowest possible assessment grade; there is no lower. However, if one performs poorly and displeases Master Zheng, there will be no future for him in the farmhouse.

Song Li naturally felt Liu Ding's gaze.

But Liu Ding has a good brother-in-law, so at least on the surface, he won't have a direct conflict with Liu Ding.

"Where is Brother Zhao?"

Song Li's gaze swept across the crowd, but he couldn't see Zhao Hui's figure.

Just as he was wondering.

Zhao Hui walked into the farmhouse courtyard with his head down and a dejected look on his face.

"Brother Song, my spiritual wheat... has been stolen."

Done.

Zhao Hui was heartbroken when he thought about how he had worked day and night, only to have his spiritual wheat stolen the night before the assessment.

He felt a surge of grievances welling up inside him, and this grown man almost burst into tears.

"Stolen?"

Song Li's eyes turned cold.

really.

He wasn't the only one being targeted; Zhao Hui was too.

Both were newly appointed scholars with no background, and even if they were bullied, they dared not fight back, making them the easiest to manipulate and naturally the best choice for bullying newcomers.

Several agricultural officials nearby also heard Zhao Hui's words.

Or gloating.

Or perhaps it brings back memories of those days.

But not a single one intended to lend a helping hand. Upon entering this government office, one would find that everyone there was essentially a competitor.

Using your own barley to fund your competitors?

Only someone with a screw loose would do that.

Zhao Hui looked utterly hopeless, feeling as if he had fallen to the bottom of an abyss, experiencing the darkest moment of his life.

At this time.

But then Song Li spoke up: "Brother Zhao, how much spirit wheat do you still need?"

Zhao Hui: "That thief stole four catties of spirit wheat."

"Okay, you wait."

Done.

Song Li jogged away from the courtyard and ran towards his hut.