Chapter 984: The Highest-Quality Imperial Examination

The triennial Qionglin Banquet was once again a grand literary gathering. By now, they had plenty of experience with such affairs, and under the proper arrangements of the responsible officials, everything proceeded in an orderly manner.

The fame of the Qionglin Banquet had already spread far and wide. Every scholar aspired to attend, and every examinee who participated considered it an honor to be invited. Passing the jinshi examination was only the starting point of their official careers, yet none could suppress their excitement. At times, one had to admit that most literati, with their reverence for the imperial house, their awe of the institutions, and their devotion to ritual propriety, found it quite easy to win the favor of the supreme ruler.

Therefore, even with the lesson of "Zhao Song" in mind, Liu Chengyou never regarded civil officials with contempt or disgust. On the contrary, he employed them liberally in the construction of the state. The only difference lay in his attitude and methods of employing people.

Using civil officials to restrain the military—Liu Chengyou was doing this as well. For a state, this was a highly necessary measure. Having been emperor for fifteen years, Liu Chengyou could fully understand the psychology of "Emperor Taizu of Song." In developing prosperity and consolidating state rule, the role of literati was greater than that of military men, especially in the realm of thought.

To be fair, the Northern Song's emphasis on civil over military, and using civil to control military, had little to do with Emperor Taizu himself! As for where the problem truly lay, history would render its own verdict.

The number of jinshi admitted across all subjects this session exceeded one hundred, with the jinshi proper subject carrying the greatest weight at over seventy percent. Somewhat conspicuous were the five medical-subject jinshi. The Emperor's vigorous support and construction of medicine and medical administration had sparked some controversy, but ultimately met with no great opposition. Birth, aging, sickness, and death are the constants of human life—who can avoid illness, and who dares look down on physicians who heal the sick? It was merely the Emperor's policy of elevating the social status of the medical profession that made people somewhat uncomfortable.

In fact, over these ten-plus years, a special force had risen within the bureaucratic system of the Great Han—the medical administration bureaucrats. A complete medical administration system had been established: the Imperial Medical Institute at the center, medical posts in the localities, and military physicians in the armies. Though their ranks were generally low, their strength still weak, and their organization loose, they were nonetheless a political force capable of exerting some influence.

The medical-subject jinshi admitted this time were all fairly advanced in age; even the youngest was over thirty. Liu Chengyou had taken special note of them: two were students of the Imperial Medical Institute, two were sons of medical families, and one was a renowned folk physician...

Liu Chengyou surveyed this batch of admitted jinshi with a detached gaze—old and young, of every description. Some were excited, some anxious, some joyful. In the solemn imperial gardens, under the scrutiny of those in power, most appeared ill at ease, not daring to raise their heads, sitting silently in their places, stiffly going along with the proceedings, afraid to move too much lest they commit a breach of decorum.

What Liu Chengyou was curious about was how many of these newly advanced scholars would prove to be talents worthy of great appointment, how many would actually obtain office, and how many would become incorruptible, good officials.

The most eye-catching were the top three. The zhuangyuan was Zhang Quhua, the bangyan was Ma Shi, and the tanhua was Zhao Kuangyi.

Zhang Quhua came from an official family. His father, Zhang Yi, was also a learned literary talent—a jinshi of the Later Tang who had served as a Secretariat Drafter in the Han as well. With his family background, a legacy of scholarship, and his own diligence and love of learning, he had made a name for himself early on. During the northern expedition, Zhang Quhua had traveled through Hebei, observing the conditions of the people. Seeing the common folk suffering under military conscription and bearing the heavy burdens of war, he had expressed his sentiments and written the "Northern Expedition Rhapsody" and "Treatise on Governing the People." During Liu Chengyou's inspection tour back to the capital, Zhang Quhua had actually blocked the imperial procession to present his proposals.

At the time, Zhang Quhua was not yet twenty-one. Liu Chengyou was quite astonished. Many people knew of the destruction wrought by war, but few could lay it out so clearly and systematically, understanding the people's suffering—and at such a young age at that.

Liu Chengyou was very interested in this spirited young man. Sitting with him on the ground by the canal bank, they discussed at length the art of governing the people. Carrying some appreciation, upon returning to court, Liu Chengyou ordered the Ministry of Personnel to arrange an official post for him, specifically instructing that a modest position would suffice.

The Ministry of Personnel quickly made arrangements, assigning him as Registrar in the Directorate for Armaments. Liu Chengyou did this because, although the man had talent and insight, he was overly proud and sharp-edged, somewhat like Lu Duoxun in his early days—he intended to temper him.

However, Zhang Quhua clearly failed to appreciate the good intentions behind this. He only felt that he was being envied by others, and naturally took no pleasure in the post, saying that a humble registrar's position was not something he should be doing.

He had originally intended to resign his post entirely, but was persuaded against it. The reasoning was that if he abandoned his office out of dissatisfaction, it would be an affront to the court. If he still wished to serve in the government, display his talents, and realize his ambitions, he absolutely could not resign. Zhang Quhua heeded this advice, then resigned on the grounds of youth and insufficient learning, returning home to continue his studies.

It was only because his family had land and property that he could afford such willfulness. When Liu Chengyou heard of Zhang Quhua's resignation at the time, he merely smiled and said nothing.

After nearly three years of study, his restless spirit stirred again. When this year's spring examination came around, Zhang Quhua decisively sat for it once more. The moment he entered Kaifeng, he wrote several widely acclaimed poems and essays, and received praise from Li Fang, a guest of the Crown Prince, which greatly enhanced his reputation. Of course, if it were merely poetry and prose, it would not have drawn such lavish praise from others—this man could also analyze current affairs and practical matters with clear logic and eloquent speech.

Before the examination even began, people were already saying that Young Master Zhang was worthy of the zhuangyuan. Now, indeed, he had placed first. At the Qionglin Banquet, he was in high spirits. If it were according to Liu Chengyou's own inclination, a young talent like Zhang Quhua should still be held down a bit. However, this regular examination was probably the first time Liu Chengyou had not intervened too much. Since Liu Wensou and others had recommended him, and he had indeed performed brilliantly in the palace examination, Liu Chengyou had designated him zhuangyuan.

As for the tanhua Zhao Kuangyi, he could be considered the highest-born among this session's examinees, having already inherited Zhao Hongyin's noble title. His reputation was in no way smaller than Zhang Quhua's. When he had declined the Emperor's rewards and promotions, voluntarily building a hut by his father's grave to observe three years of mourning, he had earned himself tremendous renown. After the mourning period ended, he did not rely on hereditary privilege to enter office, but instead prepared to sit for the examination.

To be fair, Zhao Kuangyi was a literatus—and a literatus of outstanding ability. With his learning, experience, and talent, he too had the qualifications for zhuangyuan. Perhaps to avoid suspicion, he was ultimately designated tanhua. However, although Zhao Kuangyi was still young, his bearing and vision had clearly already matured. Compared to Zhang Quhua's boundless glory, he appeared quite composed.

Throughout the years, the zhuangyuan of the Great Han—apart from Wang Pu and Li Fang—seemed not to have developed particularly well in their official careers. Hu Zai had died young; Dong Chun was still compiling history under Xue Juzheng; as for the others, they had faded into obscurity.

In comparison, it seemed the tanhua were more favored by the Emperor. Men like Lu Duoxun and Zhang Ji had been permitted to serve in the imperial presence, giving their official careers a starting point far above others.

Of course, Liu Chengyou no longer intended to do things that way. Otherwise, if the tanhua received more attention than the zhuangyuan, it would diminish the status and significance of the zhuangyuan.

As for the bangyan Ma Shi, he was probably the humblest in origin among the top three. Originally from Jiangxi, after the Huainan War his entire family had been relocated to the north of the Yangtze and settled there, becoming subjects of the Han. He was diligent and fond of learning, placing at the top in several local examinations, until now, when he had won the bangyan in one stroke. From the sources of the court's talent selection, one could already see the trend toward unification!

Besides the top three, this session's jinshi also included many of special backgrounds—for instance, Lü Duan, Wang Pu's two sons, Hu Yanke's grandson, and the grandson of the late chancellor Su Yugui...

Even though he had made a name for himself before the Emperor, Lü Duan still did not enter the top three.

At the same time, there were indeed quite a number of examinees from official families this session. Although the Emperor had not intervened excessively, whether the examiners' selections were entirely free of favoritism could not be guaranteed. Take Wang Pu's two sons, for example—under their father's personal tutelage, their ability to pass the jinshi examination was in fact more than sufficient.

At the same time, the scholars admitted in this session could be said to be of very high quality—higher than any previous session.

"This session, the court has admitted no small number of talents!" Thus, raising his cup to Liu Wensou, who was in charge of this session's examinations, Liu Chengyou affirmed their work.

At this, Liu Wensou breathed a great sigh of relief. After the results were posted this time, considerable criticism had arisen, precisely because too many sons of powerful officials and nobles had been admitted. Had it not been for Liu Wensou's widely known reputation for integrity, people would likely have been crying foul. Even so, the clamor coming from below had put considerable pressure on Liu Wensou, and Liu Chengyou's attitude here served to set his mind at ease.

"Selecting talent for the state is both a duty and an honor. I must also thank Your Majesty for the trust!" Liu Wensou's aged face was wreathed in smiles, his mood relaxed.

"As for the placement of this batch of scholars, the Ministry of Personnel should promptly arrange for them to observe governance. We must train out a few talents worthy of great appointment!" Liu Chengyou then instructed Dou Yi, who had served as Minister of Personnel for less than two years.

"Yes!" Dou Yi replied crisply.

After the former Minister Shen Wenbing had passed away in office, Liu Chengyou had thought of Dou Yi, recalled him to the Eastern Capital, and appointed him to the Ministry of Personnel. To be honest, there were times when he found such strong-willed ministers unpleasant, yet he also liked employing them—Liu Chengyou existed in this contradictory state of mind.

One Fan Zhi left, one Dou Yi arrived—the court of the Great Han never seemed to lack upright and unyielding ministers.

This, of course, reflected Liu Chengyou's will. Although he did not care for ministers who remonstrated bluntly to his face, he still held a certain respect for those who had dared to argue on principle over the years, and the court did indeed need some dissenting voices.