Chapter 2080: Taizong Chronicles 22: A Grand Celebration of Flourishing Times

Firecrackers crackled throughout the city of Luoyang, fireworks blossomed across the night sky, and beneath the dazzling display of light lay the prosperous nocturnal scene of the capital.

Last year, due to the national mourning and the period of entertainment prohibition, the Mid-Autumn Festival celebrations had been largely suspended. Even if the gentry and common folk bore no resentment, they still felt some regret—after all, the Mid-Autumn Festival was one of the five great festivals of the Great Han, and one of the rare days of relaxation in the year for the people. It was immensely popular, valued by both officialdom and the populace alike.

(Lantern Festival, Qingjia, Dragon Boat Festival, Mid-Autumn Festival, and Winter Solstice constitute the five great festivals of the Great Han, celebrated jointly by sovereign and subjects, with the whole nation rejoicing together.)

However much regret there had been last year, there was that much joy this autumn. Add to that the fact that this was the first Mid-Autumn Festival since the new emperor's ascension, and appreciating the bright moon together during golden autumn became a consensus across court and country. Even Emperor Liu Yang, who had repeatedly advocated frugality and cracked down on extravagance, relented and approved the Mid-Autumn celebrations, additionally deciding to hold an imperial banquet at the Qianyuan Hall.

Moreover, this session's imperial examinations had completed their testing, grading, and admission before the Mid-Autumn Festival, adding another layer of festivity. Liu Yang also decided to personally designate the top scholar (zhuangyuan) at the Qianyuan Hall.

Within the palace walls, the Qianyuan Hall, illuminated brilliantly by lantern light, resembled a crystal palace, its radiant glow impossible to conceal even in the pitch-black night. Compared to the clamor of the marketplace, it was equally lively here—only with the added restraint of strict palace regulations. Those in attendance were all members of the Great Han's privileged class, at minimum the empire's elite—a group of high-caliber individuals for whom observing propriety and following rules was the most basic standard of conduct.

Grandeur was its appearance, solemnity its ritual. An orchestra of several hundred musicians performed court music in unison, skillfully playing a song of flourishing times. The atmosphere was such that everyone present couldn't help but be enraptured, each face wearing a joyful yet decorous smile.

Even Liu Yang, seated high upon the dragon throne, could not help but be moved. Such scenes had not been uncommon during the Kaibao era—only the vantage point had changed, and he had become the solitary figure upon that supreme seat of power. Liu Yang tried to imagine what Emperor Shizu had felt during his reign, but ultimately failed; he simply could not replicate his late father's calm and commanding gaze.

"Summon the new jinshi graduates to enter the hall for audience!" As the resonant proclamation of the palace eunuch Zheng Yuan fell, the atmosphere in the entire Qianyuan Hall shifted abruptly. All guests set down their cups and chopsticks, their gazes turning in unison toward the hall's entrance.

Under the curious, amused, or appraising gazes of the nobility, 205 newly admitted jinshi, guided by palace eunuchs, stepped cautiously and reverently into the Qianyuan Hall, setting foot upon the floor of the Great Han's most majestic, magnificent, and resplendent palace.

Due to the particular circumstances of the time, the number of candidates who sat for this session in the first year of Yongxi exceeded 4,500—the largest since the founding of the dynasty.

It was also the session with the greatest number of admissions across all subjects. After rigorous review and verification procedures, and upon reporting to Liu Yang for approval, a total of 205 jinshi were slated for admission.

Among them, the jinshi examination (classics) naturally took the lion's share with 88 admitted, followed by 18 in the mingjing (classics mastery), 32 in the mingfa (law), 15 in the history examination, 20 in agriculture, 12 in medicine, 12 in mathematics, and 8 in engineering.

Compared to previous years' admission quotas, this represented an increase of roughly 50 percent. Looking at the numbers per subject, the status of the law examination had become firmly entrenched in the imperial examination system, second in importance only to the jinshi examination. The mingjing and history examinations maintained their own base of support, but unexpectedly, the four specialized subjects—agriculture, medicine, mathematics, and engineering—also broke historical records in admissions.

Under thirty years of political influence from the Kaibao era, many scholars had already chosen to study and sit for examinations in the four subjects of agriculture, medicine, mathematics, and engineering, since the competitive pressure was relatively lower—after all, any of them served as a gateway to officialdom.

However, this situation had now changed, because there were simply too many clever people, and too many who shared the same idea. The result was that even the four technical subjects had become a single-plank bridge crossed by thousands of troops—the intensity of competition was plain to see.

Of course, in such a situation, the most valuable thing was not how many technical-subject jinshi each examination admitted, but rather the new philosophy of learning, principles of self-cultivation, and methods of governance that had formed within Great Han society and among the scholar class behind this trend.

Although many people's original intention was still to become officials, to ingratiate themselves as a means of achieving something, once it reached scale, it nearly spurred an intellectual transformation. For example, the Xiangjiang School, which had already established itself in Luoyang, could be considered a product of this intellectual current.

This was perhaps an unheralded merit that Emperor Shizu had bequeathed to the people of the Great Han—he had once infused a spirit of pragmatism into the very bones of the realm, even to the point of excess, producing many officials who were pragmatic but lacking in moral cultivation, a fact still criticized to this day.

Of course, as the Kaibao era receded and Emperor Shizu's restraining influence gradually faded, some opponents—including those who looked askance at this trend—began to raise their heads. They dared not directly attack Shizu's governance, but they were exceedingly skilled at veiled criticism and innuendo.

This autumn's examination had been targeted. During the preparation phase, officials repeatedly proposed that the admission quotas for agriculture, medicine, mathematics, and engineering should be compressed—or even abolished outright.

The reasoning was simple: during the Kaibao era, many corrupt officials had come from these four subjects (though those from other backgrounds were even more numerous), and at the same time, these four subjects were flooded with opportunists and those lacking moral cultivation. Such people were "petty men" who would only corrupt the Great Han's fine and upright ethos—unfit for office, and even less fit to educate and govern the gentry and common people.

Those raising these opinions were, of course, all traditional Confucian moralists, but the root cause was that the four specialized subjects were in truth snatching food from their bowls, squeezing their living space.

In fact, by the first year of Yongxi, those old Confucian scholars and moral guardians who insisted on tradition and upheld the old rites were only competitive in the mingjing examination—and even there, they had to make some changes to keep pace with the times. Even the history examination was no longer entirely under their control. When the Xiangjiang School arrived in the capital, the first thing it attacked was this very group…

As for their proposals on reforming the imperial examinations, Emperor Liu Yang's attitude was clear and resolute—he rejected them with virtually no hesitation.

Liu Yang raised only two points. First: "Do you dare violate the Ancestral Instructions?" One must understand that the regulations concerning the imperial examinations—especially the methods and philosophy of talent selection—had been incorporated by Emperor Shizu into the ancestral system and clan law. Every aspect of the current Great Han examination scene, both inside and outside the examination halls, could be explained within the ancestral system he had established. This autumn's examination was merely a continuation of that system.

Second: if officials were pragmatic but lacking in moral cultivation, then the remedy lay in exhortation and correction on that front—educating and spurring officials was itself part of the court's governance of officialdom.

As for officials who committed crimes—whether corruption and favoritism or any other offense—the Great Han's legal system and supervisory mechanisms would handle them. Scheming over the imperial examinations was to head south while the chariot pointed north, and moreover violated ancestral traditions and undermined the established system—the act of a fool.

The Qianyuan Hall was indeed built on a grand scale; even the most magnificent and awe-inspiring words could hardly describe a tenth of it. At the very least, in the present moment, with the hall full of guests, attendants, and guards, ushering in more than two hundred jinshi at once still left ample room.

The scholars filed into the hall in orderly succession, each wearing a solemn expression and moving with rigid precision. Propriety was their first lesson after leaping over the dragon gate, and they had learned it thoroughly.

Perhaps contrary to what many imagined, those young, handsome scholar-geniuses were almost entirely absent among the new jinshi. If one sought them, one might have to look to the storytellers and idle chatter of the capital's streets.

The Great Han's examination system had always faced an "aging" trend, and this session in the hall was perhaps the "oldest" in history—dominated by those over thirty, with those over forty coming second.

Especially in the three subjects of medicine, agriculture, and engineering, which required sufficient experience, there was no shortage of those with graying hair and beards; those with weathered faces and rough skin were even more lacking in elegance. "A bureau director passes the examination, a farmer places, a craftsman becomes an official"—that was the jibe aimed at these three subjects, even though in truth, the jinshi of these three subjects had likewise studied the way of the sages, and among them, the learned were not necessarily inferior to the erudite Confucian scholars.

And in this session, the youngest candidate was actually a scholar from Suzhou in the Jiangnan circuit—Ding Wei, aged twenty-eight at the time.

Seeing the jinshi bowing with solemn reverence, Liu Yang decided he would not praise them with the phrase "young talents." Scanning the hall, he saw that not a few of those present wore amused expressions toward this session's jinshi, some with a hint of mockery. And of course, the old pedants of the Three Institutes and the Hanlin Academy wore expressions that were even more colorful.

The new jinshi naturally dared not look around in this great hall, but they could somewhat sense the unusual atmosphere. Some of the nobles' gazes were utterly unrestrained, and one by one they "trembled," barely managing to hold themselves together.

Twenty palace eunuchs split into two groups—one passing out cups, the other pouring wine—neatly and unhurriedly filling the cups of more than two hundred new jinshi.

Afterward, Liu Yang raised his cup, swept his gaze around, and announced in a clear voice: "Ministers, raise your cups, and together with Us, toast this session's jinshi!"

"Your Majesty, please!"

"We thank Your Majesty!"

Two groups, two voices, both uniform and stirring; the echoes in the hall continuously struck at everyone's hearts. In such an atmosphere, each person instinctively felt reverence.

After drinking, cups were set down, attendants refilled the wine—everything proceeded in perfect order. After a rustling of movement, the great hall fell silent once more.

Liu Yang looked down upon the jinshi, their faces full of reverence, and began calling out names. First he called: "Bian Ding!"

"Your servant is here!" A middle-aged man stepped forward calmly and bowed before His Majesty.

Liu Yang appraised him briefly and said with a smile: "Your father, Lord Bian, was a meritorious official of the Qianyou era, a pillar of the state. Your success today is most fitting. I only hope you will discipline and spur yourself on, and not tarnish your late father's illustrious name!"

"Yes! Your servant shall surely carry on my late father's will, serve the state with utmost loyalty, and remain unwavering to the end!" Facing the emperor's warm encouragement, Bian Ding appeared deeply moved and immediately swore solemnly.

Bian Ding was the son of Bian Guidang, a veteran minister of the Qianyou era. Bian Guidang had fathered him late in life, and nearly thirty years had passed since his death. For an individual and a family, thirty years was enough time for seas to turn into mulberry fields—and over the past thirty-odd years, the Bian family had somewhat declined.

From a young age, Bian Ding had resolved to restore the family's fortunes. After years of hard study and nearly a decade serving as a local official, passing the jinshi examination was nothing special in itself—but being personally named by the emperor, who also mentioned his long-forgotten late father, how could he not be grateful and inspired? After all, the Bian family's revival was now within sight.

"Ding Wei!" Liu Yang called out again.

Soon a young man of considerable "bearing and appearance" stepped out from the ranks, unable to suppress the excitement in his voice: "Your servant is here!"

Liu Yang swept a glance over Ding Wei. He had to admit, at first glance, this appearance wasn't exactly endearing. But on the surface, Liu Yang remained calm and indifferent: "You are the youngest among this session's scholars, yet your essays are the boldest! Let Me ask you—how is it that you, a southern scholar raised in Suzhou, know so much about northwestern border affairs, speaking of them with such authority?"

Facing the Son of Heaven's inquiry, Ding Wei struggled to suppress the excitement in his heart and replied solemnly: "To report to Your Majesty, when your servant came of age, I traveled with a few friends through the prefectures of the northwest, visiting the geography and customs of the land. I gained much and remember it vividly, and so I presumptuously dared to speak on border matters!"

This session's jinshi examination had included border affairs topics in both the policy and practical sections, and Liu Yang had evidently read Ding Wei's essays, hence the question.

"The journey of study must not have been easy!" Liu Yang remarked.

"To report to Your Majesty, it was not merely difficult—we faced several dangers and nearly lost our lives."

"A journey of study spanning several thousand li is truly rare!" Liu Yang nodded. "Should you become an official in the future, I hope you will also settle your heart, serve the state with loyalty, and seek benefit for the people!"

"Yes! Your servant will bear Your Majesty's teachings in mind!" Ding Wei hurriedly replied.

"Sun He?" Raising his eyes, Liu Yang called out to another.

Standing right beside Ding Wei, a middle-aged man of refined bearing stepped forward, his movements even more composed: "Your servant is here!"

Liu Yang said: "This session has no shortage of gifted individuals, talents rare even in youth. I hear that at ten you could distinguish phonetics and rhyme, and at fifteen you could write essays citing classics and authorities?"

Upon hearing this, Sun He appeared very modest: "Your Majesty flatters me; I dare not accept. When it comes to writing essays, I still have much to learn. As for managing state affairs and practical governance, I am but a child just beginning to learn."

Hearing his words, Liu Yang smiled slightly but made no comment. After pondering for a moment, he slowly rose and walked to the front of the imperial throne, then said solemnly: "The two hundred and five jinshi present here are all talents carefully selected by the court. In the future, you will surely serve as officials, nurture the people, govern administration, enforce the law, manage finances, and even join the military. I have but one piece of advice for you: apply what you have learned, for the state and for the people—do not let the hardships you endured before passing the examinations go to waste."

"We humbly heed Your Majesty's instruction!" The crowd bowed in unison.

Liu Yang returned to the throne, glanced at Zheng Yuan, and said in a low voice: "Proclaim the edict!"

Soon, the official list of this year's top graduates was announced: Tanhua Bian Ding, Bangyan Ding Wei, and Zhuangyuan Sun He!

Moreover, this cohort truly had no shortage of talent—besides these three, there were also Qian Ruoshui, Yu Xianke, Hong Zhan, Zeng Hui, Zhou Yi, and others.