Chapter 278: Qionglin Banquet: Zhao Ji

…

On the seventeenth day of the third month of Hongwu Twelve, it was the day the spring imperial examination results were announced—the day of the palace examination results.

The palace examination does not eliminate candidates; it only determines rankings, divided into three grades. Those who pass are collectively called "Jinshi"; the top three of the first grade are the Zhuangyuan, Bangyan, and Tanhua, granted the title "Jinshi Jidi"; the second grade includes several candidates, granted the title "Jinshi Chushen"; the third grade includes several candidates, granted the title "Tong Jinshi Chushen."

The morning light of Dongjing Bianliang had just spilled over the chiwen atop Xuande Gate, and the white jade balustrades outside Chongzheng Hall still glistened with morning dew; the blue stone pavement beneath the vermilion steps was densely packed with thronging figures.

The palace examination list, wrapped in yellow silk, had just been carried out by an eunuch, yet before it could be hung on the vermilion lacquered board, those in the front row had already tiptoed and stretched their necks, their breaths mingling with the spring chill, condensing into thin white mist in the air.

"Unveil it! Unveil it!"

Someone shouted, and the yellow silk rustled down, revealing the bold ink characters "Zhuangyuan" first.

The crowd fell utterly silent for an instant, then erupted in sharp gasps.

The name was neither Mo Chou, the candidate from Cili in Lizhou who had dominated rumors last month, nor Chen Jue, the top scholar of the Imperial Academy.

The murmurs beneath the vermilion steps suddenly froze, like a lake locked by cold wind. Someone pointed at the square, upright characters "Zhao Ji" at the top of the list and suddenly recalled the widespread gossip: Zhao Ji had renounced his Wang Jue title and voluntarily taken the examination as a commoner; some had mocked him, some supported him, others called him frivolous and reckless.

No one had expected the Zhuangyuan of this year's examination to be Zhao Ji.

"How could it be him?!!!"

"Does the Duke of Duan truly possess Zhuangyuan talent?!"

"A royal prince voluntarily relinquishes his title to compete equally with humble scholar-officials—unprecedented in history! Is this fortune or misfortune?!"

Before the words had faded, the names of the Bangyan and Tanhua also appeared.

When Chen Jue's name as Bangyan was revealed, the crowd stirred only slightly; familiar candidates nodded and said, "It's only right."

Chen Jue had long been renowned in the Imperial Academy for the precision of his policy essays; his provincial examination paper had been copied and circulated among scholars, each word and phrase embodying solid, methodical discipline. His second-place finish this year was fully deserved.

Chen Jue, squeezed in the crowd, sighed in relief upon seeing his Bangyan rank, then raised a hand to smooth his slightly disheveled robe hem—he had never hoped for Zhuangyuan; to secure Bangyan was already the finest reward for a decade of bitter study. His face showed no wild joy, only quiet relief.

Mo Chou's name as Tanhua followed immediately, and no one was surprised. This scholar from Lizhou had long been famed for his talent, especially in poetry and prose; many had bet he would win Zhuangyuan. His third-place finish, though regrettable, was not unexpected.

A fellow examinee who had come with him congratulated Mo Chou: "Brother, your Tanhua title will surely be painted into the 'Qionglin Banquet Scroll'—congratulations! Congratulations!"

Mo Chou forced a smile in return, humbly replying: "Mutual congratulations, brother—you've also passed second grade. We must support each other in officialdom."

After exchanging a few polite words, Mo Chou's smile vanished. He stared at the top name—"Zhao Ji"—and frowned slightly.

He had performed excellently, and he was certain his policy direction was correct. The Zhao Song dynasty was already powerful, while the Liao had been relentlessly pushed back by a tiny tribe of fewer than one hundred thousand households. This was a heavenly opportunity for Zhao Song to reclaim the Five States of Yan, pacify the Three States of Luanying and their border passes, and achieve total unification.

If this direction was right, the Zhuangyuan should have been his.

Just days ago, by chance, he had heard that a Jin envoy had come to Dongjing Bianliang requesting recognition from the Zhao Song court.

At that moment, inspiration struck. He guessed Zhao Yu might ask about Liao-Jin relations, so he specifically sought out merchants familiar with the current conditions of both states.

This last-minute cramming had paid off handsomely.

Thus, during the palace examination, he deliberately fused the Liao-Jin situation with his own governance philosophy, elaborating at length on strengthening border defenses, reorganizing military readiness, and using diplomacy to ally with Jin against Liao, ultimately achieving territorial unification. Every word, every phrase, bore the weight of his sleepless nights of study and his profound devotion to the state. He believed this answer would dazzle Zhao Yu and earn him the Zhuangyuan title—glorifying his ancestors and securing eternal fame.

But reality doused him in cold water. The Zhuangyuan had been claimed by the Duke of Duan, famed for his carefree irreverence.

Mo Chou's heart churned with resentment and confusion. He began to wonder: what extraordinary qualities did Zhao Ji possess to defeat him and overwhelm all others, winning the emperor's favor?

At that moment, a humble scholar, upon seeing his name in the second grade, danced and shouted: "I passed! I passed second grade!"

To fund his examination, this scholar had sold his family's two mu of ancestral land—his last gamble. Now, seeing his name clearly listed in the second grade, he squatted on the ground and wept uncontrollably, tears mixing with the grime on his face, more moving than any smile.

Several other second-grade candidates congratulated each other, inviting one another to a tavern for drinks to celebrate their success; their laughter carried far on the wind, filled with triumphant lightness.

But further down, into the third-grade ranks, the air grew heavy.

An elderly scholar in a square cap, his hair now white, traced his fingers for a long while across the list of "Tong Jinshi Chushen," finally finding his name. His lips moved, but no sound emerged.

The servant behind him wanted to offer congratulations, but saw his master turn away, staring blankly at the cracks between the palace wall bricks, and swallowed his words—he had vowed in youth: not to marry until he passed second grade. Yet after five attempts, he still had not succeeded. Must he take the sixth exam, waiting until seventy to force a pear blossom to crush a crabapple?

A young scholar, once hailed as a prodigy by his village, had always boasted of his eight-dou talent. Seeing himself ranked at the very bottom of the third grade, his face flushed crimson. He slammed his folding fan onto the ground: "This ranking is no different from failure! I am utterly shamed!"

Someone nearby tried to console him: "At least you're still a Jinshi—you'll have chances in the future…"

He ignored them, flung his sleeve aside, and pushed through the crowd without looking back—his silhouette brimmed with youthful pride and despair.

The sun climbed higher, and the crowd before the list thinned. Those who passed second grade linked arms and headed toward taverns, their laughter drifting far on the wind; those in third grade mostly walked in silence, either alone or in small groups, their steps heavy.

Only the names on the vermilion lacquered board remained still in the wind—the first-grade gold-leaf characters gleamed, the second-grade ink was clear, the third-grade small characters were neatly written—whether in joy or sorrow, this sheet of yellow hemp paper had finally drawn, in varying shades, the closing mark on countless nights of lonely study.

As time passed, some details of the selection process emerged.

For instance, the examiners had originally recommended Mo Chou as Zhuangyuan, Chen Jue as Bangyan, Zhao Tang as Tanhua, and Zhao Ji had been ranked fourth.