A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

On the third day of the imperial examination, the final gong sounded.

The heavy gates of the examination hall slowly closed in the afterglow of the setting sun, sealing the fate of seven thousand candidates, along with the countless scrolls they wrote, within this vast courtyard.

For the next seven days, the entire examination hall was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.

Li Huai and Fang Fuyao, one a veteran official of the previous dynasty and the other the national advisor of the new dynasty, led hundreds of scribes drawn from various departments, working tirelessly day and night to review the documents.

Sealing, copying, preliminary review, and verification.

Each procedure was closely guarded by soldiers, and anyone who tried to pass on a message would be apprehended on the spot.

Li Huai's eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night. Looking at the stacks of papers with messy handwriting, yet written in great detail about farmland irrigation and the placement of soldiers, his feelings were as complicated as if a bottle of mixed emotions had been spilled.

"These peasants..." The old prime minister rubbed his throbbing temples, staring at a document discussing "how to increase a state's grain production by 30% in three years." He couldn't decide whether to scold or praise it. "They can't even write proper classical Chinese, but they're experts at farming. If this document were from the previous dynasty, it wouldn't even qualify for review."

Fang Fuyao sat opposite him, her expression calm, though her face was paler than usual.

She graded the papers extremely quickly, her eyes scanning the pages, not looking at the writing style, but at the numbers, logic, and feasibility.

"The previous dynasty is gone."

Her voice was calm: "What His Majesty wants is not a useless person who can write beautiful articles, but an official who can ensure that the people have enough to eat."

Li Huai choked for a moment and didn't say anything more.

He knew she was right.

But looking at the papers that Fang Fuyao had circled as "usable" with a vermilion pen, he still felt a chill run down his spine.

This is not selecting officials; it is clearly uprooting the three-hundred-year-old foundation of the Great Wei Dynasty.

Late on the seventh night, the last paper was graded.

Fang Fuyao handed the prepared list of names to Li Huai, whose hands trembled slightly as he took it.

He stared at the unfamiliar name at the top of the list, remained silent for a long time, and finally sighed before stamping his seal.

The world is about to change.

The 18th day of the fourth month in the second year of Xinwu.

The day the results were released.

Before dawn, the long street outside the examination hall was already packed with people.

Thousands of examinees and their families flocked from every corner of the capital, and even from dilapidated temples and under bridges outside the city, to gather here.

The air was thick with tension, anticipation, and the smell of sweat; it was eerily quiet.

No one spoke; only heavy breathing could be heard.

It is Chen Shi (7-9 AM).

Three sharp cracks of the whip echoed through the long street.

"Post the results!"

With a loud announcement from an official of the Ministry of Rites, two huge red notices, carried by sixteen imperial guards, slowly emerged from the examination hall.

The crowd erupted in excitement, only to be forcibly suppressed by the cold blades of the Imperial Guards.

The red list was hung high on the outer wall of the examination hall.

In that instant, the crowd surged forward like a flood bursting its banks.

"He's on the list! My son is on the list!" A ragged old man saw a familiar name in the crowd, and tears streamed down his face. He immediately knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly towards the direction of the palace.

"I passed... I passed... Father! Mother! I passed!" A young scholar squeezed to the front of the list, confirmed his name, rolled his eyes, and fainted.

Some were overjoyed, while others wept bitterly.

A middle-aged man who had failed the exam five times in a row looked at the list and, still not seeing his name, leaned against the corner of the wall, buried his face in his knees, his shoulders heaving violently, and let out a beast-like howl.

A mix of joy and sorrow, all the facets of life, are laid bare before this thin red notice board.

The crowd's discussion quickly focused on the top spot.

"The top scholar, Lin Shimao? Who is that? Among the major surnames in Beijing, is there anyone with the surname Lin?"

"Never heard of him. Judging from his place of origin, he's from Yangdi County, Yuzhou... from the countryside?"

"How is this possible! What makes him superior to the young masters of the Wang and Xie families?"

Amid the murmurs, a slender young man dressed in a faded blue cotton robe stood blankly on the outskirts of the crowd, staring at the familiar yet unfamiliar name at the top of the list. He seemed struck by lightning, completely motionless.

He is Lin Shimao.

Beside him, several fellow villagers patted his back vigorously, so excited they were almost incoherent: "Shi Mao! It's you! It really is you! The top scholar! You've become the top scholar!"

Lin Shimao's mind went blank; he felt like he was dreaming.

He came from a farming family, and his family had been tenant farmers for generations. The fact that he could read and write was already a stroke of good fortune.

He came to the capital to take the imperial examination, and his travel expenses were all raised by the whole village. His biggest wish was to pass the examination as a minor scholar and be exempted from taxes for his family.

Top scholar? He didn't even dare to dream of it.

Soon, more information came out from inside the examination hall.

"Have you heard? Lin Zhuangyuan's essay, titled 'On the Resettlement Plan for Refugees in the North,' was personally reviewed by the Imperial Advisor, who gave it eight words: 'Practical, replicable, and scalable!'"

"That's not all! Look at the list, thirty-seven out of the top fifty are from humble backgrounds like ours! Only thirteen are from aristocratic families!"

This news was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up huge waves.

The entire prominent family in the capital was utterly shaken.

That night, several carriages rushed to the palace gates, presenting petitions and earnestly requesting His Majesty to "expand the number of places available for family members to be admitted."

They believed that the imperial examination system should prioritize family background and scholarly traditions, and that it would be detrimental to the country if a person from a poor family were to suddenly rise to a high position.

In the imperial study, Wei Zhao looked at the list presented by the Embroidered Uniform Guard, his face expressionless.

He only had the eunuch send out one message.

"In my court, I don't look at family trees, I look at ability."

Cold, hard, and leaving no room for compromise.

Several envoys sent by powerful families stood in front of the palace gates for half the night, only to receive this chilling reply.

They slunk away in their carriage, fully aware that the young emperor was truly going to break off relations with them.

child time.

The lights in the Imperial Study were still on.

Wei Zhao sat alone at his desk, holding in his hand the list of newly appointed Jinshi (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations).

"Xuan Lin Shimao has come to pay his respects."

Half an hour later, a thin figure, led by an official, cautiously entered the study that represented the highest power in the land.

"This humble subject, Lin Shimao, kowtows to Your Majesty! Long live the Emperor!"

Lin Shimao knelt on the cold gold bricks, his hands trembling slightly with nervousness, not daring to even lift his head.

"Rise."

Wei Zhao's voice was gentle, revealing no emotion.

He stepped down the steps and personally helped Lin Shimao up.

"This humble subject dares not..." Lin Shimao's body was taut like a fully drawn bow.

Wei Zhao sized up the young man in front of him.

At twenty-three, his complexion was somewhat sallow, clearly due to years of malnutrition, but beneath his tense and fearful eyes, there was a fire that refused to be extinguished.

"I have read your exam paper," Wei Zhao said, without uttering a single unnecessary word.

Lin Shimao's heart jumped into his throat.

Wei Zhao looked at him and suddenly asked a question that no one expected.

"I'm sending you to Jingzhou to be the magistrate. Do you dare?"

Lin Shimao suddenly looked up and froze.

Jingzhou?

That place where a rebellion had just occurred, where the Liu family had been entrenched for a century, where official connections were deeply entrenched, and which was regarded by all officials as a den of dragons and tigers.

Why send a poor scholar with no connections to be a county magistrate in such a place?

This isn't offering an official position; it's sending someone to their death.

The Imperial Study was eerily quiet; Lin Shimao could clearly hear his own heartbeat.

He looked at the white-robed emperor before him, whose deep eyes were calm as still water, yet seemed to see through all his thoughts.

Fear, hesitation, retreat... countless thoughts flashed through his mind.

But in the end, these thoughts were replaced by a stronger emotion.

It is a debt of gratitude for being recognized and appreciated.

It is the impulse of a scholar to die for one who understands him.

Lin Shimao, a peasant boy from the countryside of Yuzhou, what makes him stand in the imperial study and receive a personal audience with the emperor?

Based solely on that one exam paper.

It's all because His Majesty trusts him.

Lin Shimao took a deep breath, suppressing his momentary hesitation and fear, and replacing it with a resolute determination to go all out.

He knelt down again, and this time, his voice was no longer trembling, but firmer than ever before.

"dare."

One word, but it carries weight.

A hint of a smile finally appeared in Wei Zhao's eyes.

Lin Shimao straightened his back, looked up at Wei Zhao, and said, word by word:

"As long as Your Majesty trusts me, I can give Your Majesty a stable Jingzhou!"

Looking at him, Wei Zhao seemed to see countless souls like him, suppressed at the bottom, yet unwilling to succumb.

They are the foundation of the new martial arts.

"it is good."

Wei Zhao nodded and helped him up: "Tomorrow, the Ministry of Personnel will issue the official document. As for Jingzhou, I will give you a secret decree."

He patted Lin Shimao's thin shoulder, his voice not loud, but carrying a calming power.

"Go ahead and do it. I am behind you."