Chapter Thirty-One: New Interpretations of the Zhou Officials

Who is Su Shi, after all? He is the famed scholar whose name resounds throughout the world—a master of poetry, prose, song, and painting, unrivaled in talent and reputation. Su Shi’s verses and essays are recited by the masses; should anyone obtain even a single scrap of his writing, it is cherished like a precious gem, secreted away in a hidden chamber. Not only is he revered by the people, but even the emperor himself holds Su Shi’s works in the highest esteem. Emperor Zhao Xu of the Song dynasty often became so engrossed in Su Shi’s writings that he neglected food and sleep. Empress Dowager Gao, acclaimed as the female Yao and Shun, also greatly admired Su Shi and once sought to appoint him as Chancellor. Yet, thwarted by opposition from court officials and disheartened by political strife, Su Shi requested to be dispatched elsewhere, stepping away from the seat of power, just one step short of the highest office.

Though Su Shi later left the central government to serve as an official in the provinces, he remained venerated throughout the land. How could such a person possibly be the teacher of Li Sancheng? Huang Huan regarded Li Sancheng with considerable puzzlement.

"Li, if you wish to enter the officialdom, do you know what paths are available?" Huang Huan asked, still astonished.

"Aside from the imperial examinations, are there any other routes? I truly do not know. Please enlighten me, Professor Huang." Is there any way other than the exams? Li Sancheng, though confused, understood that for someone like himself—without money, family, or connections—the imperial examinations were the only possible path.

"Patronage and the Imperial Academy," Huang Huan replied succinctly.

At present, the Song dynasty offers three main avenues to officialdom: the imperial examinations, the Imperial Academy, and patronage.

"The Imperial Academy? What is that?" Li Sancheng had no need to consider patronage, nor did he qualify for it, so he didn't even bother to ask. The Imperial Academy, as the name suggested, must be akin to a university, he mused.

"To foster talent, the court establishes renowned teachers at the Imperial Academy. Students study there, and the court appoints the most outstanding directly to official positions, bypassing the exams. However, the Academy follows the Three Halls system," Huang Huan explained.

"The Three Halls system? What is that?" Li Sancheng inquired further.

To enter officialdom without the imperial exams—this seemed ideal. Li Sancheng still didn't fully understand the examination system, but he knew it must be much like his former university entrance exams: a single-plank bridge crowded with thousands. If the court recruited more, the bridge widened; if fewer, it narrowed. Regardless, the path was always narrow, and out of millions of scholars, only a handful would succeed and achieve honor.

If one could attain office without exams and escape poverty, what could be better? Huang Huan's mention of this possibility inspired great interest in Li Sancheng.

Huang Huan nodded and said, "The Three Halls system divides students into three levels: Outer Hall, Inner Hall, and Upper Hall. Students in the Outer Hall are tested annually. Those ranked first or second, along with those certified by the school, may advance to the Inner Hall. Inner Hall students are evaluated monthly on conduct and skill, with a seasonal selection every three months. Each year, the top thirty Inner Hall students are certified, graded as 'Excellent' or 'Average.' Inner Hall students also take annual public exams; those who qualify are likewise graded. Those with both exam and certification marked 'Excellent' ascend to Upper Hall top tier and are directly appointed to office. Those with one 'Excellent' and one 'Average' enter Upper Hall middle tier, continue their studies, and, during the imperial exams, are exempt from the preliminary and provincial tests, proceeding straight to the palace examination. Those graded 'Average' or with one 'Excellent' and one 'Fail' are exempt from the preliminary test and proceed directly to the provincial exam."

Upon hearing this, Li Sancheng slumped, kneeling with his back straight but slightly bent.

Li Sancheng had some understanding of the imperial examination system: exemption from preliminary and provincial exams meant direct entry to the palace examination, ensuring the rank of jinshi, for the palace exam only determined place and did not eliminate those who had passed through the Ministry of Rites.

But entry to officialdom through the Imperial Academy, as Huang Huan described, was no less difficult than the exams—perhaps even more so. Beyond examinations, there was certification, which, to Li Sancheng, seemed open to manipulation by the academic officials according to their preferences. For someone like Li Sancheng, lacking all advantages, this path was all the more arduous.

The Imperial Academy? How does one gain entry?

Thus, Li Sancheng asked, "How does one enter the Imperial Academy?"

Huang Huan glanced at him and replied, "First, you must enter the provincial school, then the Imperial Academy, based on exams and certification."

So it was. Li Sancheng thought bitterly: how many years must one toil through this process? No wonder the phrase 'ten years of cold study' is oft repeated. Even if one eventually gains fame through the Academy, it might take even longer than ten years...

For now, the imperial examinations seem to be the quicker route, Li Sancheng thought. Though the path was thorny, and his previous studies seemed useless in this world, he had studied for over ten years with excellent results. With methods unknown here and an extraordinary memory, almost photographic, the imperial exams suited him best.

Isn't it just a matter of memorizing a few more books? Suddenly, Li Sancheng felt a surge of confidence and, after some contemplation, said to Huang Huan, "Professor Huang, I think I shall prepare for the preliminary exam."

"Very well. In that case, take these two books and review them," Huang Huan replied, expecting Li Sancheng to pursue the imperial examinations, and handed him two books.

As Li Sancheng suspected, the path through the official schools was fraught with uncertainty. For someone of humble means and no influence, being recommended was nearly impossible; almost all recommendations went to the sons of high officials and noble families.

Even if Huang Huan admired Li Sancheng, the most he could do was recommend him to the provincial school; beyond that, it would be out of Huang Huan’s hands.

Li Sancheng took the two books. One was "New Interpretations of the Three Classics," the other "On Characters."

Both were thick volumes. "New Interpretations of the Three Classics" comprised three works: "New Interpretations of the Zhou Officials," "Interpretations of the Mao Poetry," and "Interpretations of the Book of Documents."

"Thank you, Professor Huang," Li Sancheng said, cradling the books.

Huang Huan regarded him for a moment, shaking his head inwardly.

Li Sancheng failed to notice the authors of the three books: "New Interpretations of the Zhou Officials" was written by Wang Anshi; "Interpretations of the Mao Poetry" and "Interpretations of the Book of Documents" were compiled by Wang Pang and Lü Huiqing. Wang Pang was Wang Anshi's eldest son, and Lü Huiqing, known as "the Law-Passing Monk," was hailed by Wang Anshi as "my Yan Hui," and was the second most important figure in the Xining Reforms.

All three textbooks, after the death of Empress Dowager Gao and the ascension of Emperor Zhao Xu, were once again decreed as mandatory texts for the imperial examinations.

By imperial decree, to pursue the exams, one must thoroughly read and master these three books.

What puzzled Huang Huan most was that Su Shi had vehemently opposed the Xining Reforms and Wang Anshi’s New Learning, so why was Su Shi sending his student to the county’s official school, knowing that the curriculum was based on Wang Anshi’s New Learning?

Huang Huan observed Li Sancheng closely, seeing him calmly accept the New Learning texts without any sign of unease. He wondered what was on the young man’s mind...

...

Li Sancheng believed that rote memorization of these books would lead to effortless success, but this was a grave mistake.

"With nine professions to govern the people, first is the three farmers, producing nine grains. Second is horticulture, nurturing plants. Third is forestry, managing the resources of the three lakes. Fourth is animal husbandry, raising birds and beasts. Fifth is the hundred crafts, refining eight materials. Sixth is commerce, facilitating the flow of goods. Seventh is women’s work, processing silk and hemp. Eighth is servants, gathering scattered materials. Ninth is idle people, without fixed duties, taking on various tasks..."

As usual, Li Sancheng annotated this passage from the "Rites of Zhou," marking punctuation and memorizing it word for word. For especially difficult words—such as "nurture," "forestry," and others—he wrote his own interpretations, and for those he could not grasp at all, he marked them for later inquiry with Professor Huang.

Li Sancheng understood the passage as the "Rites of Zhou" dividing society into nine professions, employing the people primarily in agriculture.

Wang Anshi’s commentary was: "The nine grains cannot grow without the three farmers; plants can grow unaided but cannot flourish without horticulture; birds and beasts can breed on their own but cannot thrive without animal husbandry..."

Li Sancheng interpreted Wang Anshi’s meaning as based on the interrelation of labor products, connecting different industries and linking various professions, thus forming an interconnected chain beginning with agricultural products.

But what Li Sancheng could not understand was why Wang Anshi wrote so much about the nine professions—what was his purpose?

He tugged at his long hair, struggling to fathom Wang Anshi’s intent.

"Brother, what’s wrong?" Little Sprout saw Li Sancheng’s ‘painful’ expression and, standing on tiptoe, peered at the incomprehensible book.

Since entering the county school, Li Sancheng still lived in the two rented thatched rooms, together with Sprout and Mountain.

Ouch... Awakened from his thoughts, Li Sancheng inadvertently pulled out a few strands of hair and winced in pain.

"Oh dear, brother, your hair is a mess!" Little Sprout laughed at his disheveled look. "Let me comb your hair for you."

"Hm? You know how to comb hair?" Li Sancheng asked in surprise.

"You underestimate me, brother. Not only can I comb hair, I can do so much more! I can pour tea, wash clothes, cook..." Little Sprout replied with a giggle.

With that, she fetched a wooden comb and gently tidied his hair.

What a pitiful soul—she must have been forced by those brokers to learn these tasks, so she could serve others and fetch a better price in the future.

"Stoke the furnace and don the warmest clothes. Only after a cup, the warmth feels dizzying. People complain of the cold after frost, but spring sleeps in the jar, and they know it not." As she combed his hair, Little Sprout softly sang an enchanting melody.