Chapter 60: The Second Match
Watching Lun Wenxu's receding figure, Li Jie figured that Lun's hesitation regarding the Imperial Academy stemmed from two reasons. First, his mentor Chen Xianzhang was advancing in age, and Lun was reluctant to leave him so soon. Second was the travel expense required to journey to the capital. However, should he pass the provincial examination this time, the financial hurdle would naturally resolve itself. By then, Li Jie could seize the opportunity to present him with a generous congratulatory gift; given Lun's proud character, he would never accept unearned money.
Upon returning home, Madam Wang noticed the weariness on Li Jie's face and said tenderly, "Pingzhi, are you tired? If you are exhausted, go and rest immediately."
Li Jie shook his head. "I am not tired. It's just that I couldn't wash up properly inside the examination booth, which feels a bit uncomfortable. A bath will make it right."
Lin Zhennan chimed in from the side, "How was it? Are you confident about passing the provincial examination this time?"
"It should not be a problem. As for my exact ranking, I dare not say."
Hearing this, Lin Zhennan burst into loud laughter. "Splendid! Excellent! A thirteen-year-old provincial graduate, marvelous!"
Seeing Lin Zhennan's uncontainable triumph, Li Jie smiled helplessly and said, "Father, please do not go about spreading this before the official results are posted. If I fail to pass, it will become a laughingstock."
Ignoring the advice, Lin Zhennan continued to laugh heartily. Madam Wang pinched him fiercely upon seeing this and shot him a glare.
Catching her gaze, Lin Zhennan sheepishly waved his hand and said, "I won't go babbling about it outside. I promise!"
Watching their interaction, Li Jie smiled and remained silent. Within the Lin estate, only Madam Wang possessed the power to keep Lin Zhennan in check.
On the twelfth day of the eighth month, the second session of the examinations commenced. This session required one essay on governance, five legal judgment rulings, and a choice of one imperial edict, proclamation, or memorial. The essay was required to be over three hundred characters.
The essay topic tested the scholars' elaboration and comprehension of major issues regarding statecraft. The edicts, proclamations, memorials, and judgments all fell under the category of official correspondence, testing the candidates' administrative writing skills by requiring them to imitate the speech and conduct of emperors and ministers from the Han and Tang dynasties. Generally, these took the form of Han memorials, Tang edicts, and Song memorials.
For Li Jie, the second session posed no great difficulty. With his hindsight and modern perspective, writing these pieces was not hard; the key was simply to avoid taboos and answer in a practical, grounded manner. Furthermore, since the first session was already completed, the second and third sessions only needed to meet the average standard, as the examiners' evaluations primarily focused on the classical interpretations of the opening session.
Just like the first session, the examinees underwent body searches and entered the grounds at the fourth watch. Li Jie rose early, finished a carefully prepared meal, hoisted his examination box, and set out. The carriage jolted along slowly.
By the time they reached the gates of the Tribute Hall, the expressions of the scholars were entirely different from the day of the first session. Those who had been confident in the first session gathered together in high spirits, laughing and talking; since the second and third sessions carried less weight, they could take the tests with ease.
Conversely, those who felt they had performed poorly in the first session wore devastated expressions as they mechanically trudged in for the second round. Naturally, a few chose not to return after the initial setback, though such individuals were in the minority. Most still clung to a sliver of hope as they came to sit the exam.
The continuous, high-intensity examinations proved too much for the physically weaker candidates. Elderly scholars and very young examinees now looked deathly pale, as though a gust of wind could blow them over. Without sound physical health, one could simply not endure such grueling tests.
Observing the myriad states of human nature before the Dragon Gate, Li Jie could not help but sigh. In this era, the imperial examinations formed the sole outlet for the vast majority, and the collective yearning for success surpassed imagination. Once a person attained the degree of a provincial graduate, their entire lifestyle underwent a radical transformation. Passing exempted one from corvée labor and taxes. If one earned the degree at a very young age, numerous patrons would gift money and land to sponsor them. In short, the status of a provincial graduate and that of a mere licentiate were worlds apart; impoverished licentiates were common, but impoverished provincial graduates were exceedingly rare.
The Dragon Gate opened, and the scholars filed through in an orderly fashion, undergoing inspections before entering the examination hall. Soon it was Li Jie's turn. Following the security check, he stepped inside. The booth assigned to him was the exact same one he had used in the first session.
Upon entering, Li Jie sat cross-legged and quietly awaited the start of the examination.
Dong!
The drum from the Mingyuan Tower sounded, signaling the beginning of the test as scribes distributed the question papers to the candidates.
Receiving his paper, Li Jie scanned through all the prompts roughly and found them to be conventional questions without any particular difficulty. He then concentrated on answering, beginning with the essay topic.
The topic: "Let propriety be used to pacify those above and govern the people."
It was a quite conventional subject. The discourse on propriety had been tested countless times in both the provincial and metropolitan examinations, and virtually every possible viewpoint had already been exhausted. It was extremely difficult to introduce novelty into it. Even if Li Jie attempted it, making it brilliant was hard, because while some modern perspectives were advanced, it was difficult to make examiners accept them. After all, he was merely a student; rashly presenting such ideas without commanding authority would only invite mockery.
Having completed the essay in a standard, orthodox manner based on classical commentaries, he turned to the remaining prompts: the edict, proclamation, and memorial respectively were: "Draft a Tang-style edict for Yao Yuanzhi to concurrently serve as Purple-Micro Bureau Commander (second year of Kaiyuan)," "Draft a Tang-style proclamation appointing Zhang Jiuling as Secretariat-General," and "Draft a Han-style imperial order commanding all officials to each submit a memorial of loyalty for Emperor Zhang of Han."
Reading these prompts, Li Jie thought that the examiners were testing the candidates' mastery of historical backgrounds, various literary formats, and textual application. These questions were somewhat difficult for examinees with limited reading experience. Although strict parallel prose was not required, the answers had to be historically plausible rather than written in a wild, haphazard manner.
For Li Jie, these questions were as easy as turning over his hand, presenting zero difficulty. With brush flying as if guided by divine inspiration and a wealth of knowledge in his mind, he feared no tricky prompt. Over the past few years of study, while he might not have read ten thousand scrolls, he had certainly digested seven or eight thousand. In the span of two years, Li Jie had read virtually the entire collection of books in Chen Xianzhang's library. Blessed with an extraordinary memory, his volume of reading could be described as terrifying. Combined with his accumulations from the prime world, his reading volume completely outclassed his peers.
When he finished all the questions, the sky had already grown dim. Lighting a candle, he first checked for any omissions or errors, and then copied his answers neatly onto the final submission scroll. By the time he handed in his paper, the moon had quietly climbed into the sky.
Bathed in bright moonlight, Li Jie followed the soldiers back toward the Dragon Gate. At this moment, the waiting candidates outside wore exceptionally relaxed expressions; after all, the opening session—the true crucible determining their fate—was long behind them. Judging from the surrounding conversations, every candidate submitting their papers here felt supremely confident about the first session.
Several examinees who recognized Li Jie greeted him from time to time. As one of the heavy favorites for the provincial examination this year, Li Jie was well-known to many, especially since he alone seemed to have emerged out of nowhere like a dark horse. The other top contenders all hailed from prestigious lineages. During the Ming dynasty, Fujian was considered a powerhouse province for the imperial examinations, ranking fourth nationwide in the number of successful metropolitan jinshi graduates, with at least one jinshi produced for every four provincial graduates. Among the prefectures of Fujian, Fuzhou Prefecture stood out above all others.
For instance, there was the Lianjiang Lin clan, famed for producing "eight jinshi across seven examination cycles," "five ministers across three generations," and "three imperial preceptor libations"; the Dayi Chen clan of Fuzhou, celebrated for "nine individuals entering the highest tier of the imperial roster across four generations, and eight members wearing official gauze caps in a single household"; the Shuixi Lin clan of Fuzhou, known as a "Jonglin scholarly family"; and the Nanhu Zheng clan of Fuzhou, renowned for "seven consecutive generations of ancestors participating in the imperial examinations." All of these historically renowned families originated from Fuzhou.