Chapter Thirty-Eight: Humiliation

"Elder sister, Jian has already grown up, why do you still worry so much? Why insist on coming here..."

That day, a man and a woman appeared outside Lingshan County. The man was tall and robust, about twenty years old, while the woman was under thirty, and rather short in stature.

The man pushed a Jiangzhou cart, on which the woman sat.

The so-called Jiangzhou cart was a single-wheeled barrow, powered by human strength. Legend had it that Zhuge Kongming of the Three Kingdoms first invented it in Jiangzhou, Bashu, hence the name.

During the Song dynasty, people's main modes of travel included carts, boats, sedan chairs, and litters. Carts themselves came in a variety of types: horse-drawn, donkey-drawn, mule-drawn, and so on.

For women, travel options were mostly small litters, covered chairs, canopied carts, felt carts, and calf carts. These vehicles all shared a common feature: their sides were shrouded in felt, leather, or cloth, concealing the women inside from view.

Jiangzhou carts like this one were typically used by commoners to transport goods.

Women were not supposed to show themselves in public, but how could the daughters of poor households afford to care about such things? How could they possibly be so particular?

"Jian is not yet fifteen, how can you say he's grown up?" the woman said, gazing anxiously at the city walls of Lingshan County. "He's never traveled far from home. Now he's gone off alone—who will cook for him? Who will wash his clothes? Who will look after him? If he's bullied by others, what will become of him?"

"Sister," the man shook his head, "your son is as sly as a fox. You should count yourself lucky if he doesn't bully others himself."

Hearing these words, the woman was secretly delighted and replied with a smile, "Jian is not that kind of person. Let's hurry along, it's getting late."

With a word of assent, the man pushed the Jiangzhou cart toward Lingshan County.

...

The Song dynasty's imperial examination system consisted of three stages: the Prefectural Exam, the Metropolitan Exam, and the Palace Exam. The Palace Exam, as the name suggests, was held in the imperial palace and presided over by the emperor himself. Since the sixth year of Emperor Taizu's Kaibao reign, it had become the established norm.

Before Emperor Renzong, the Palace Exam could still fail candidates, and the proportion dismissed was not small. Some failed scholars, driven to despair, drowned themselves, hanged themselves, took poison—every manner of tragic end imaginable. Some, unable to endure their frustration, even defected to foreign lands.

In light of this, from Emperor Renzong's reign onward, the Palace Exam only determined ranking and no longer dismissed candidates. Thus, any scholar who passed the Metropolitan Exam conducted by the Ministry of Rites was almost certain to make the official list and achieve success in the exams.

The Metropolitan Exam usually took place in the spring, hence was also called the "Spring Exam" or "Spring Session," overseen by the Ministry of Rites under imperial decree.

The Prefectural Exam was also called the "Recommendation Exam," and there were several types: the National Academy Recommendation Exam, various provincial and prefectural Recommendation Exams, and other special categories.

All tribute scholars across the empire were to sit for the Recommendation Exam in their home prefecture.

These exams were organized by the respective prefectures. As Guangnan West Circuit was a remote region, its Recommendation Exam was held in Guizhou (not to be confused with the modern province).

Under Emperor Taizu, the imperial examination was generally held once a year. Under Emperors Taizong, Zhenzong, and Renzong, sometimes it was annual, sometimes every two years, sometimes five years would pass without an exam at all—it all depended on the emperor's whim.

This state of affairs continued until the third year of Emperor Yingzong's Zhiping reign, when he decreed that the major examination would henceforth be held every three years—a rule that became standard. Later emperors mostly adhered to the triennial cycle, though there were occasions when the exam was suspended or held early.

For candidates living far from the capital, the Recommendation Exam was held nearly a year earlier than the Metropolitan Exam, since the journey was long and arduous. Typically, it took place in August, on a date set by each prefecture. Those who passed were called "Recommended Scholars" or "Presented Scholars," eligible for the following year's Metropolitan Exam.

In Guangnan, the southernmost region, the Recommendation Exam was usually held in June due to the vast distance from the capital, Kaifeng.

Thus, the Recommendation Exam was also called the "Autumn Session."

...

"A gentleman who loses his station is like a prince who loses his state. The Rites say: 'The princes plow to provide sacrificial grains; the ladies raise silkworms to make clothing. If the sacrificial beasts are not fit, the grains unclean, or the clothing insufficient, they dare not offer sacrifice. If a scholar has no land, he too does not sacrifice. If the sacrificial vessels, beasts, and robes are unprepared, he dares not hold a feast, nor is he fit to mourn another.'"

Li Sanjian sat in his thatched cottage, loudly reciting the classics.

The Autumn Session was less than three months away. Li Sanjian studied day and night, forgetting sleep and meals, preparing for the Recommendation Exam of Guangnan West Circuit.

He had previously declined Huang Huan's offer to recommend him to the state academy, choosing instead to go directly for the Recommendation Exam, then the Metropolitan and Palace Exams.

Li Sanjian's reasoning was that the academy track took too long and was fraught with uncertainties—unsuitable for someone like him, who was without wealth, influence, or connections. Directly taking the exams would be much faster; to him, the Recommendation Exam was no more than a mid-term, nothing to fear.

Huang Huan was so exasperated by Li Sanjian's attitude that he left with a huff, scolding him for overreaching and not knowing his place, and tried in vain to persuade him that everything must proceed step by step, not in one giant leap.

Huang Huan believed that if Li Sanjian entered the academy and studied for ten years, he might one day become a scholar renowned throughout the land. Why, then, should he be so eager for quick success? This left Huang Huan deeply frustrated.

But Li Sanjian did not think as Huang Huan did. He had no desire to become a celebrated scholar.

Could scholarship fill one's belly? Li Sanjian thought not. The knowledge he possessed was far more advanced than this era’s learning; why, then, should he devote his life to it?

His purpose in studying became ever clearer: to succeed in the exams, to have his name inscribed on the golden list, to enter officialdom, to let his mother live a good life, and to lift his family out of poverty and scorn.

After regaining the memories of his past self, Li Sanjian vividly recalled his mother Fu Erniang’s boundless worry and care for him—a mother’s love etched deep in his soul.

Fu Erniang had lost her husband and then two sons. For a woman, this was like the sky falling, enough to crush all hope. Yet she had not been defeated; she bore her grief and continued to care for him, a child who had been dull-witted and slow. Their life had been miserably hard.

For the sake of his mother, Li Sanjian was determined to succeed.

"Hey, bookworm, it's time to practice archery," called Chen Ke'er, poking her head through the window as Li Sanjian swayed over his books.

"Go away, go play somewhere else. Don’t disturb my studies," Li Sanjian retorted.

It seemed his earlier decision was right. The martial path was even harder for him—just a few days of archery practice had left him battered and bruised, every muscle aching. What future could there be in the martial arts for him?

He would only exhaust himself to no great end...

"Hmph, suit yourself. I see Brother Shankui has gone to practice. As for you, keep reading until it kills you," Chen Ke'er sniffed, turning to run out of the courtyard—only to nearly collide with Zeng Gong, who rushed in, flustered.

"What’s with you? Is there a fire?" Chen Ke'er exclaimed, startled and annoyed.

Recently, Chen Ke'er had become acquainted with Li Sanjian's new friend, Zeng Gong, and everyone was quite fond of this lively, charming girl. During this time, Uncle Qin had also continued training Shankui in the martial arts.

"My apologies, miss!" Zeng Gong hurriedly bowed before dashing for Li Sanjian's room, calling as he ran, "Brother Hanren, Brother Hanren, quick—something's happened!"

"What’s the matter?" Li Sanjian was startled and stepped out to ask.

"Come with me—your mother, your mother is in trouble!" Zeng Gong replied, flustered.

"My mother? Donglin, is this some sort of joke? My mother is still far away in Danzhou," Li Sanjian said, shocked, then recollected that his mother was indeed in Danzhou—how could she be here? And how would Zeng Gong even recognize her?

He must have mistaken someone else, Li Sanjian thought to himself. Zeng Gong was often unserious—was he playing another trick?

"I’m not joking, Hanren! It really is your mother—she said so herself, said you were studying at the county academy," Zeng Gong insisted.

"What? My mother really is here? Where is she? What happened?" Li Sanjian asked breathlessly.

"She’s at the city gate—being stopped by some people. They’re... they’re threatening her," Zeng Gong answered.

Stopped at the city gate? Why? Who would trouble his mother?

"Shankui, come with me! Donglin, lead the way!" Li Sanjian said, not stopping to think further.

"I'm coming too," Chen Ke'er declared.

...

"Pay up! Unless you have three to five hundred strings of cash, you’re not leaving today."

"That’s right, five hundred is a bargain for you."

"Our friend is quite right. This silk jacket is genuine Jiangnan silk! And after the fright you gave us, surely you should pay something to calm our nerves?"

Several burly young men of Lingshan County surrounded a man and a woman, arguing rudely and hurling insults at the woman.

That woman was none other than Li Sanjian's mother, Fu Erniang. The man was his uncle, Fu Lin.

"Good sirs, I beg you, we didn’t mean to splash mud on you. I apologize, let me clean it for you," Fu Erniang pleaded fearfully, bowing as she spoke.

"Where do you think you’re from, peasant? You’d dare use your filthy hands to clean our clothes? Not a chance."

"Hand over the money, or we’ll haul you in front of the magistrate."

"Not bad looking for her age, but a bit too old. Otherwise... heh heh."

"Sister, get up," Fu Lin said angrily, helping Fu Erniang to her feet. "So a little mud and you insult us like this?"

Fu Lin had brought Fu Erniang to find Li Sanjian. In their haste, and because it had just rained and the road was muddy, they accidentally splashed some passersby with mud at the city gate.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you know who we are?" one of the men blustered, his tone fierce though he seemed a bit nervous at Fu Lin's anger.

"I don’t care who you are—no one has the right to bully a defenseless woman in broad daylight," interrupted Li Sanjian, who had just arrived in a rush.