Chapter 1438: Palace Secrets

With the new top scholar laurel of the Great Han going to Lü Mengzheng, it also marked the conclusion of the eighth year of Kaibao's special examination, and hot on its heels, before the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Great Han's first martial top scholar since the founding of the dynasty was about to be born.

The civil examination made a great stir—scholars from all directions converged on the capital, bustling and boisterous with tremendous momentum. Add to that the court's emphasis and the tilt in examination resources, and it became a topic of eager discussion.

Since the first year of Qianyou, the court's examination system had been continuously refined, and by now it was extremely well-established. Thus, no matter how rushed or unusual this special examination's preparations were, a smooth process was guaranteed.

The martial examination was another matter entirely. Lacking precedents to draw upon, many matters had to be prepared from scratch—even the examination format, procedures, and candidate selection methods were deliberated and confirmed at a breathless pace.

Compared to the civil examination, it started earlier and ended later, lasting a full ten days in total. The written portion accounted for only three-tenths of the assessment. Besides military strategy, policy essays, and battle case studies, there were also examinations of personal qualities such as horsemanship and archery, combat, and physical fitness, as well as practical tests of training and command.

Only after such a high-standard, high-requirement, high-intensity competition was the list of successful martial examination candidates decided. A total of three hundred ninety-six candidates took part, yet only twenty were admitted—roughly one in twenty.

The sources of candidates were also considerably restricted, drawn basically from the sons of military merit nobility, junior officers of the various armies inside and outside the capital, and officers and soldiers with distinguished military merit. This was also the limitation of military talent selection—far less broad in its sources than the civil examination. The threshold for the martial examination was also clearly higher, stemming from the special nature of the military and the current state of the Great Han's armed forces.

As for setting up a challenge arena and letting brave warriors compete in martial arts—that perhaps existed only in romance tales. What such a method would select were merely men of brute courage. In the military, personal valor was certainly important, but climbing the ranks was no easy matter.

What the court wanted to select were men who understood military strategy and had potential for cultivation as generals and officers. Physical courage was something that needed to be assessed during the period of enlistment; if placed in the court's martial examination, it truly would not be presentable.

In the Great Han of today, serving as a soldier meant food to eat, full pay, and a path forward, but the ceiling was even narrower than the examination route. The resources at the upper levels of the military were also largely monopolized by the nobility.

Unlike the civil examination, the martial top scholar was not personally examined and designated by Emperor Liu. Instead, the martial examination examiners deliberated and jointly recommended him, with Emperor Liu playing the final deciding role. The examining body responsible this time was composed of senior officials and generals from the Bureau of Military Affairs, the Ministry of War, and the three commands of the imperial army—Pan Mei, Shi Shouxin, and Wang Yanchao were all among them, a truly luxurious lineup.

As autumn deepened and the weather turned colder, the decorations of Chuigong Hall changed with the seasons. A thin woolen carpet was laid on the floor, the light gauze curtains were replaced, and paper was pasted over the doors and windows to keep out the chilly wind.

In the comfortable, warm environment, Emperor Liu lay curled up on his side on the imperial couch in a somewhat hunched posture. Young Consort Zhou attended beside him, gracefully brewing tea. With her movements, the air of the hall was enveloped in a rich fragrance of tea.

Compared to Emperor Liu's gradually apparent signs of aging, Young Consort Zhou was in the prime of her youth, at a flower-like age, like a bud just beginning to bloom. Yet no matter how delicate and vibrant she was, this old thing Emperor Liu had turned her into a married woman.

Young Consort Zhou's appearance was naturally beautiful. Her refined features carried a kind of purity that was beyond compare—every smile and frown was alluring, expressive, and deeply moving.

Having plucked such a delicate flower for himself, keeping it as his private reserve and enjoying it at will, Emperor Liu felt both self-satisfaction and pride, but at times also a sense of shame—though just a trace, of course. What kind of man was Emperor Liu? An old ox eating tender grass was hardly worth mentioning; the so-called shame was merely an expression of inner hypocrisy.

"Your Majesty, please taste this tea!" Young Zhou handed the brewed tea to Emperor Liu, her clear, bright eyes fixed on him, her watery gaze carrying a hint of expectation.

Emperor Liu returned a smile, took it, and took a light sip, saying: "This tea is excellent! Of course, Young Zhou, your tea-brewing skill seems to have improved again!"

Hearing this, Young Zhou immediately broke into a radiant smile, her voice brimming with delight and joy: "Your Majesty flatters me! As long as Your Majesty likes it, that's what matters!"

The tea was naturally fine tea—Beiyuan tribute tea produced in Fujian. It was an imperial tea inherited from the Southern Tang court, and it was the finest tribute tea in all the Great Han.

When the Southern Tang destroyed Min, they used the Beiyuan Commissioner of the imperial garden to manage Jianzhou's tribute tea. When Emperor Liu pacified Jiangnan, he naturally absorbed all of it as a matter of course. Some of the local tribute goods that the Southern Tang rulers and ministers had once enjoyed, Emperor Liu now enjoyed as well—these were the fruits of the victor.

Even the consort and Lady of Beauty before him, with brows like paintings and faces like flowers, were all part of Emperor Liu's spoils of war.

Even to this day, Emperor Liu did not have particularly refined tea-tasting skills. His appreciation of tea basically stopped at tasting the flavor and knowing that drinking tea was beneficial. As for the rest, Emperor Liu truly lacked some of the sentiment and refined elegance for it.

Therefore, what he said to Young Consort Zhou was merely for the sake of praise. Toward his beloved consorts, aside from majesty, Emperor Liu could still display some gentleness and patience.

"Ziyong, you should also taste the tea made by Consort Yi!" Emperor Liu gave Yan Tuo a signal and called out to Zhang Yong, who was seated in the hall.

At this, Zhang Yong hurriedly rose to express his gratitude. Even though he was constantly by the sovereign's side, such favor was rare even for Zhang Yong. Now under forty, Zhang Yong already bore the bearing of a leader of the scholarly class, with considerable prestige among the literati—such were the benefits of staying close to the emperor.

"You came to see me today not just to brew me a pot of tea, surely. Whatever business you have, speak it plainly!" Emperor Liu said with a smile as he looked at Young Consort Zhou, his gaze carrying not only affection but also tenderness.

Hearing this, Young Zhou's delicate face flushed slightly, her fair cheeks glowing with luster. She lowered her head a little and answered with shy timidity: "Nothing escapes Your Majesty's eyes! My elder sister has been unwell lately, bedridden. Your Majesty hasn't gone to see her in a long time..."

Hearing this, the smile on Emperor Liu's face gradually faded, and his brows furrowed slightly as he said: "Is that so? Have the imperial physicians seen her? If she's ill, then treat her!"

There seemed to be a hint of ruthlessness in Emperor Liu's words. Young Zhou lowered her head even further and said softly: "The imperial physicians have seen her and prescribed some recuperative medicines and supplements, but there's been no improvement. The physicians say it's an illness of the heart. I thought that if Your Majesty could go visit her and resolve it, it might help her recover!"

"Heh heh!" Emperor Liu smiled faintly, his gaze at Young Zhou taking on a hint of amusement: "You do value your sisterly bond, showing concern for the Pure Consort. But I wonder whether she appreciates the sentiment?"

A ripple appeared in Young Zhou's eyes, making her seem even more pitifully charming. Her voice grew softer still, but her tone became all the more earnest: "After all, she is my elder sister, my only relative left in this world! I beg Your Majesty to show a little compassion and condescend to visit Shuhua Hall..."

"Since you've come to plead in person, for the sake of this pot of tea, I'll give you some face!" Emperor Liu finally smiled again and teased: "If I refused, I'm afraid you'd shed tears. A beauty's tears move hearts, and I would feel the pain too!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" At these words, Young Zhou cast aside her shyness and immediately beamed like a flower, her jade-like countenance blooming like a blossom, even more captivating. Had there not been an external official present, Emperor Liu might have indulged himself to the full.

"I'll find time to make a visit!" Emperor Liu reassured her again, then suddenly thought of something and turned to Yan Tuo with a displeased tone: "What is Liu Hui doing? His mother is unwell—shouldn't he be attending to her with filial piety? Does he need his aunt to come beg me on his behalf? He's not still at his residence drinking and making merry, is he!"

As per custom, once an imperial prince was enfeoffed, he moved outside the palace. The Seventh Prince Liu Hui was no exception. Although Emperor Liu had gradually grown to dislike his mother, he still greatly appreciated this son's literary talent and had specially bestowed a grand residence upon him.

To this question, how would Yan Tuo dare to answer carelessly? For a moment he dared not speak. It was Consort Yi who rescued him from the predicament, offering consolation: "Liu Hui has come to the palace to serve and show filial piety in recent days. Your Majesty should not blame him wrongly!"

Only then did Emperor Liu's expression return to normal, calm and unruffled, as if what had just happened was merely a performance. After a moment's thought, Emperor Liu gave his orders: "Send some of the ginseng tributed by Goryeo to Shuhua Hall. Also, convey an edict to the Imperial Medical Institute—they must cure the Pure Consort!"

"Yes!" Yan Tuo hurriedly acknowledged, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. At times like this, he much preferred hearing Emperor Liu give orders than being asked questions that were difficult to answer.

His gaze toward Young Consort Zhou also grew softer, and he sighed leisurely: "You are kind-hearted after all. You are sisters, yet you've grown so distant now. Who knows what the Pure Consort is really thinking? I say, reading too many books isn't necessarily a good thing!"

At Emperor Liu's words, the most embarrassed person present was undoubtedly Zhang Yong. At this moment he even wished his ears were deaf—this kind of palace gossip and secret affair was truly unsuitable for an external official like him to hear. His inner tension manifested in his behavior: he sat as if on needles and pins, unable to find ease.