Chapter 154

Under the guidance of several officials from the Taichang Temple and the Censorate, two hundred and eighty-five tribute students filed into the Chengtian Hall.

This is a grand and towering hall, with coiled dragon jade pillars standing erect, and the surroundings adorned with carvings of dragons and phoenixes, fully displaying the court's dignity.

After entering this place, Zhang Jian's expression changed slightly, as the Red Virtue True King's destiny hidden within him entered the destiny pillar, and the mimicking jade pendant transformed into the destiny of a great scholar, resisting the infiltration of the court's dense dragon and tiger aura, suppressing it.

Zhang Jian's expression remained unchanged.

He noticed that the Chengtian Hall was already filled with over two hundred desks.

Each desk had a small wooden plaque placed on it.

The wooden plaques bore the names of the tribute students.

His eyesight was extremely sharp, and at a glance he saw that there were twenty-three rows in total, with the first twenty-two rows having twelve people each, and the last row having nine people.

"Please take your seats, no loud talking or whispering!"

As the chief examiner of the Ministry of Rites' provincial examination, Censor-in-Chief Zhuang Ying still had a cold and solemn expression, but his words carried great authority.

Upon hearing this, the tribute students hurriedly took their seats in order.

Zhang Jian's seat was the first position on the right side of the first row.

A row of twelve is divided into six on the left and six on the right, with odd numbers on the left and even numbers on the right, arranged outward from the center.

The center faces directly toward the golden steps, where that gleaming dragon throne stands.

Wang Qingzhou and Zhang Jian respectively sat on either side of the central aisle, which are also the two positions directly facing the Son of Heaven.

Zhang Jian had already seen Wang Qingzhou not far away, sweat beading on his nose, taking several deep breaths before calming himself down.

His expression remained unchanged.

Indeed, the book mentions a golden house; having seen much and penetrated the essence of things, one naturally would not feel excessive awe, but rather more rational curiosity.

At this moment, he seemed to feel a surge of righteous divine energy approaching from one side before the Chengtian Hall; in his spiritual sense, this righteous power resembled the aggregation of all state authority in one person's hand—he was the resident deity of the mortal realm, the boundless heavenly and earthly authority flowing, the dragon and tiger aura making way for a path.

Then, a figure wearing a dark black imperial robe emerged from the side hall.

The Great Qian dynasty still revered black; this young emperor's imperial robe was primarily dark black, but the dragon patterns on it were bright yellow; he wore the Ping Tian Crown, the young emperor unsmiling, merely glancing over the many tribute students, especially the leading ones—Wang Qingzhou, Zhang Jian, and Peng Yuan Shou—before slowly withdrawing his gaze, signaling to Zhuang Ying beside him that he could begin.

Zhuang Ying wore a purple official robe, his expression stern; beside him were several other officials in purple robes, and even some in red robes.

Zhang Jian guessed they might be high-ranking ministers, part of the Three Dukes and Nine Ministers.

He did not know which one was the Chancellor and which was the Grand Commander.

Then Zhuang Ying spoke calmly.

"By the Emperor's command, the Grand Examination for Selecting Talents of the sixth spring of the Jingwu era officially begins; please, officials, distribute the examination papers!

Tribute students, please complete the examination questions within three hours; be focused and attentive, no whispering, no peeking at others' papers—violators will be dragged out of the Chengtian Hall, stripped of their official ranks, and never employed again!"

Three hours equals six hours.

The six hours of the provincial examination are not long, but not short either.

If the examination questions are special, the provincial examination might be extended.

Before the desks, Zhang Jian sat upright with proper posture, eyes not glancing sideways.

He was naturally very familiar with the etiquette of the interview.

Of course, the examination etiquette is one aspect, but more important is still to rely on genuine evidence and ability.

Yet when he received the provincial examination paper, Zhang Jian still felt something unusual.

"Ask about the emperor's governance and the emperor's heart?"

His eyes flickered, but he did not immediately begin writing; in fact, such topics test more the emotional intelligence of ministers.

He had many ideas he could expand upon in his mind.

The information he had gathered over the past few days about the Jingwu Emperor happened to be useful now.

However, it was regrettable that he had no firm grasp of the Jingwu Emperor.

Still, he had some basis, which was far better than most tribute students who relied purely on guessing.

The Jingwu Emperor ascended the throne young; observing his actions, establishing a new army, appointing honest officials to clean up localities, abolishing abuses—he should not be a emperor fond of grand achievements, but very likely a pragmatic ruler.

Of course, this is only temporary.

How many emperors are vigorous in youth, only to grow lazy in old age?

Catering to such a pragmatic ruler is certainly harder than catering to those fond of grand achievements.

Zhang Jian could indeed write an essay that would make the emperor, and even many high-ranking ministers, brighten up—but he felt that pulling out a trump card just for this provincial examination would be overkill.

When it's time to boast, one must not be too pragmatic.

Just add a little bit of substance inside.

After a moment's thought, Zhang Jian picked up his brush: "Your servant says: I have heard that when an emperor governs the universe, he must first have practical administration to bind the people and manage the myriad affairs, so as to achieve the auspicious governance of the primordial elements; he must also have a practical heart to inspire, so as to temper the artisans, refresh the official duties, and achieve the perfect order of prosperity, establish norms, and rectify laws..."

He wrote fluently, and in fact his argument was simply to improve official administration and enrich the state.

This was actually an old theme repeated, but in the context of this provincial examination question, its intention was superior.

Zhang Jian wrote fluently many ways to refresh official administration, but most were merely superficial discussions that stopped short; in ensuring he could hit the emperor's itch, he also stopped appropriately at times.

Speaking too much would inevitably offend some high-ranking ministers—this would be unwise.

Speaking too little, the Jingwu Emperor might think he spoke with certainty but was actually superficial; Zhang Jian needed to give the Jingwu Emperor the feeling that he had substance, but could only share it privately.

To many high-ranking ministers, this tactic might seem insignificant, but before a group of tribute students who have not yet entered officialdom, it would certainly be far superior to clumsy squabbling.

Of course, in this process, he certainly could not just mechanically write some pragmatic essays; when it's time to praise the emperor's wisdom, he must never skip a stroke.

However, merely praising the emperor outright would be too blatant.

Zhang Jian, in his essay, turned the corner and lavishly praised the governance of the High Ancestor and the founding ancestor's rule without leaving traces.

Only then did he introduce his own viewpoint.

An essay of nearly a thousand words, fluently written, Zhang Jian incidentally infused it with righteous energy; in the eyes of a few Daoists from the Cave God Observation in the court, the righteous energy rushed straight to the hall, the luminous intention became vividly colored, and one figure wearing a Wuji Dao robe, tall cap and wide belt, could not help but step forward to examine Zhang Jian's original paper.

However, after merely glancing at it, this Daoist could not help but raise his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he quickly retreated back to his original place.

He still had his eyes lowered to his nose, his nose to his heart, appearing uninterested in everything.

"What's wrong with Master Jingming?"

Seeing this, Emperor Jingwu couldn't help but ask the grand attendant beside him—a elderly eunuch with long, longevity eyebrows—who, upon hearing the question, shifted his gaze and whispered a few words into Emperor Jingwu's ear, instantly piquing the emperor's curiosity; he then descended from the vermilion steps and walked over to stand beside Zhang Jian.