Chapter Forty-Five: Removing the Exam Robes

The system of locking the examiners in the Song Dynasty was to confine them within the examination hall before the formal selection process—essentially a form of soft detention. The students would also take their official exams inside the hall. For the entire Guangnan West Circuit, there was only one examination site in Guizhou, where all students from the circuit gathered for the qualifying exam. However...

However, there was no actual examination hall in Guangnan West Circuit, so the Confucian Temple had to serve as its substitute. Thus, all the students took their exams in the Confucian Temple of Guizhou.

With a soft thud, Li Sanjian's bundle slipped from his hand and fell into the muddy water.

Once again, the Confucian Temple... Li Sanjian was speechless. The county school in Lingshan was in the Confucian Temple, and now even the qualifying exam was held there. It seemed his life was forever entwined with this place.

Of course, the Confucian Temple in Guizhou was far grander than the one in Lingshan.

Shankui hurriedly picked up the bundle from the ground, vigorously wiping the mud and water off with his sleeve, his heart aching as he did so—this was Li Sanjian’s entire day's worth of food.

Each day, the exam would last from dawn to late afternoon; if a student failed to submit by the designated hour, they would be immediately expelled from the examination hall.

During the Tang Dynasty, night exams by candlelight were permitted, but in the Song, this was strictly forbidden—even candles or any sources of illumination were banned from the exam hall.

Before dawn, under heavy rain and thick clouds, hundreds of students had already gathered outside the Confucian Temple, each carrying some form of lighting, waiting for the doors to open.

They had already submitted their family records and recommendation documents for official review, qualifying them to participate in the exam.

“Haha! Brother Yongcai, why do you have dark circles under your eyes? Did you spend the night singing with the willow girls?”

“Poet, stop your nonsense. I spent the night revising my studies!”

The crowd outside the Confucian Temple was bustling. Students stood in the rain, holding their lamps, each with different expressions—fear, excitement, calm composure, or banter to ease their nerves.

Zeng Gongmin was so nervous his face was pale, his umbrella askew, rainwater streaming down his plump cheeks, yet he was oblivious.

“Donglin, why are you so nervous?” Li Sanjian tried to comfort him.

Though Li Sanjian spoke reassuringly, he too felt a surge of anxiety.

It was, after all, his first time taking such an important exam, his first encounter with the imperial selection system in this world—a contest that would determine his fate, perhaps even the fate of his entire family. How could he not be nervous?

“For the country and the people, we select the outstanding; for literature and virtue, we choose the capable.” Li Sanjian quietly recited the couplet flanking the main gate, hoping to calm himself.

The Confucian Temple, serving temporarily as the examination site, offered a broad view—mountains and water encircled it, and in the distance behind were layers of peaks, with a clear stream winding nearby, the location lofty and refreshing.

Surely this was what people called a place of excellent feng shui, Li Sanjian mused.

He was right. The examination halls, whether permanent or temporary, were always chosen in auspicious locations, as places imbued with spiritual energy were believed to produce talented individuals and outstanding officials.

Great figures are born from the beauty of the landscape, the balance of geography and nature—sages never disregard this! Extraordinary talent will emerge!

“Open the gates!” Li Sanjian was lost in thought when suddenly the doors swung open and a gatekeeper shouted, startling him.

“Open the gates!” The gatekeeper’s assistants echoed loudly.

The long-waiting students surged forward, pushing and crowding through the entrance. Most of them were young, barely in their teens, physically frail, but those from better-off families had servants with them, who helped their masters force their way inside.

A battle of servants striving to escort their young masters ensued, with shoving and cursing, all to get ahead.

The ground was littered with umbrellas, lamps, and other items; some were knocked down, covered in mud, looking like clay figures.

The seating arrangements within the examination hall were of utmost importance. If a student was seated too close to the privies, their essay would be tainted by the stench—a fatal blow to their academic ambitions.

Shankui roared, spreading his arms like a wave breaker, forging ahead and escorting Li Sanjian and Zeng Gongmin to the doorway.

This was as far as he could go—servants were not allowed inside the hall.

Determined to secure a prime spot, Li Sanjian dragged Zeng Gongmin, pushing desperately forward.

...

After a short while, the sound of drums and bells rang from a high tower within the temple. The chief examiners for the Guangnan West Circuit—Hu Wenhai and Xu Bin, along with the supervisor Yin Mochuan, their assistants, and several clerks entered the hall.

After several days of confinement, Hu Wenhai and the others had already drafted the exam questions.

Setting the questions for the qualifying exam in Guangnan West was no easy task. If the questions were too difficult and not enough students passed, the examiners would be ridiculed, and their performance records would suffer. If they were too easy and unqualified students advanced to the metropolitan exams, all might be rejected, and their shallow knowledge would be mocked.

Thus, Hu Wenhai and his colleagues racked their brains and finally settled on suitable questions.

Once the examiners entered, the chattering students fell silent.

The examiners then read the imperial edict, formally declaring the start of the examination.

Next, under the examiners’ guidance, hundreds of students braved the rain to pay homage to the stone statue of Confucius—a necessary ritual.

After paying their respects, the students proceeded to the exam hall.

Private cubicles? Where are the cubicles? Only now did Li Sanjian realize he had been misled. The Song Dynasty exam hall was not divided into individual rooms; there was no dedicated space for students to write in peace.

The hall was simply a large room, rather makeshift, with wooden pillars supporting the perimeter and an open space in the center where all students sat together. It was bright, but a few raindrops drifted inside, soaking the sleeves of those seated near the edge. Each student had a small desk with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

They sat crowded together; those with sharp eyes could even glance at their neighbors’ work, perhaps whisper, though this was unlikely, as supervisors and clerks stood all around, watching like hawks.

Furthermore, seating was strictly assigned by the clerks according to the roster; Li Sanjian and Zeng Gongmin were separated by two desks and could only exchange glances and gestures.

The clerks then loudly announced the rules and formally began the exam.

The first round was on the classic texts—the so-called “testing the classics” meant interpreting passages from various canonical books. Ten passages were already displayed on the hall, taken from the Analects, Mencius, and other works. The questions weren’t particularly difficult; these were familiar lines, easy to understand, and as long as the students had studied and followed the commentaries, they could answer.

Li Sanjian finished grinding his ink and copied the questions onto his paper.

Why were none from the New Meaning of the Three Classics? He wondered as he wrote.

Wasn’t the current exam content supposed to focus on the New Meaning of the Three Classics and the Explanation of Words? Why were none of the ten questions taken from those?

Did the examiners think those commentaries too difficult? Li Sanjian mused.

He had focused his studies precisely on the New Meaning of the Three Classics and Explanation of Words.

But Li Sanjian’s guess was wrong. At present, the reformist faction led by Zhang Dun and Cai Bian held power at court; the old party, the Yuanyou faction, had been purged and sent out to distant posts. The more prominent their Yuanyou affiliation, the harsher the exile.

Hu Wenhai and the others were considered Yuanyou men, so they had been banished to remote Guangnan. They resented the reformists and their new learning; thus, they would never select questions from the New Meaning of the Three Classics or Explanation of Words.

But as they were not core Yuanyou members, they were merely demoted, not completely exiled.

“Failing to cultivate virtue, neglecting study, hearing what is right but not acting, failing to correct one’s faults—these are my worries.”

This was the first question, taken from the Analects, Chapter “Shu Er.”

Its meaning was simple: in the late Spring and Autumn period, as chaos reigned, Confucius lamented that people failed to see and correct their own faults, which troubled him deeply. He equated moral cultivation, diligent study, and correcting mistakes, seeing their inner connection: only by constantly improving oneself and amending faults could virtue be perfected and knowledge enriched.

Confucius' words were laced with worry and anger; he wished to shoulder the world’s troubles, to see order and ritual restored, so that all would know and observe propriety, and the cold indifference and greed would vanish.

Yet this was only Confucius’ ideal, a wish impossible to fulfill, for human greed ensured it could never be realized. Li Sanjian felt little sympathy for it.

But even if he disagreed, he dared not write any refutation; to challenge the sage’s words would earn immediate expulsion. Most people in this world could not accept such criticism, so Li Sanjian simply wrote the orthodox interpretation, sticking closely to the main idea.

As he was earnestly answering, suddenly there were two loud thuds near him. Startled, Li Sanjian turned to see two students collapsed on the floor, covered in ink.

Whether from the heat or nerves...

“Take them out for treatment,” Chief Examiner Hu Wenhai instructed with a frown.