Chapter 65: The Autumn Provincial Examination

After this division, it was obvious that Master Huang was to lie low in Jiangnan for the long haul.

Of course, given the current situation, there was no need for him to rush into making contributions for the Company. On the contrary, at this stage Huang Zhicheng ought to do his utmost to avoid having anything related to the Crossing Faction appear on his person.

For instance, he should steer clear of Liu Yaozu, the Huizhou Merchant who had dealings with the Crossing Faction. He must wait until he had integrated into the Gentry Class in the future under his identity as a native-born Ming Dynasty Provincial Graduate before slowly making contact under the pretense of ignorance.

After arranging the future of Graduate Huang, a certain big shot, amid a chorus of whispers and jeers, shamelessly delivered his final directive: Lie dormant, do not activate; when the time for battle comes, see wondrous results.

Recalling the absurd events he had experienced lately, that feeling of not knowing whether to laugh or cry welled up again. Fortunately, after all this time, his mindset had more or less adjusted. Here and now, with flowers before him and the moon above, sipping tea in place of wine, Huang Zhicheng truly did exude a bit more of the ancients' carefree spirit.

He sighed softly, gathered his thoughts, and like a soldier before battle, began one last review of the entire plan.

The line involving Nan Wang and Huang Ping was already wrapped up. Those two important individuals had been effectively placed under house arrest and would be sent to Dayuan in the near future. In this world, only one Huang Xiucai—well, the future Huang Juren—would ultimately exist, surnamed Huang, given name Ping, courtesy name Zhicheng.

The yamen had also been sufficiently greased with silver. While the original Huang Ping was still studying at the academy, the fake Huang Ping had already made his debut, tentatively completing his first task: using a retired official's visiting card purchased through seven layers of intermediaries by the Transmigration Company, he had arranged a meeting with a petty official of the Provincial Administration Commission.

The triennial Provincial Examination was precisely when these petty officials made their fortunes. Among the over ten thousand examinees, there were always those with far-reaching connections who could take the advanced route, fixing things with the examiners and secret codes. Five years ago, Comrade Examiner Qian Qianyi had pulled such a stunt in Hangzhou City, only to be exposed by the sharp-eyed masses. As a transmigrator, Huang Zhicheng naturally had no need to walk such a dangerous path; he simply spent seventy taels of silver to buy two "traditional services" from the petty official.

The first was a "private booth": during the exam, he would be assigned to one of the spacious old cells built in the Gongyuan in earlier years. At the same time, he also paid silver for an "attendant," meaning that during his days in the exam compound, a single old soldier on duty would cook, wash, and look after him morning and night.

As for the most crucial matter of the exam questions, that too had been prepared. The Chief Examiner for this session of the Zhejiang Province Provincial Examination was Hanlin Academy Junior Compiler Chen Meng, and the Associate Examiner was Ministry of Personnel Supervising Secretary Zhang Weiyi—these two men matched the historical records. Therefore, the moment the examiners were confirmed, the Crossing Faction had already assumed that this session's exam questions would be identical to those in history.

After that, it was simple: first, they searched inns and hostels everywhere, identified several scholars who had historically passed this very examination, and after evaluation, Locked On to one of them, a Scholar surnamed Han. The transmigrators had in hand a collection of the Han scholar's examination essays published after he passed, retrieved from later generations. All Huang Zhicheng needed to do now was memorize these few eight-legged essays by heart.

On the very day of the seventh, after dinner, the Han scholar developed a fever and fell into a stupor, unable to leave his bed. This acute illness came on fast and left just as fast; the unlucky fellow's sickness would slowly heal after the crucial first-session exam. Everything was so smooth—familiar routines, familiar flavors.

A second-rate peddler who made his living forging paintings in later generations, now here in the Ming Dynasty, carrying a Scholar's diploma and identification in the name of Huang, his belly stuffed with the eight-legged essays of a Scholar surnamed Han, about to set foot on the imperial examination grounds trod by ancestors for a thousand years—for a fake to be fake to this degree was no easy feat. The most bizarre scene of his life could hardly surpass this.

Just as Huang Zhicheng was musing on past and present, a tall figure emerged from the side room. This figure came up beside Huang Zhicheng, and then, in a sudden shift of style, reached out a hand and offered him a Black Lanzhou.

Under the moonlight, Scholar Huang unceremoniously pinched it between two fingers, and the next moment, a "ding" rang out. Master and servant thus lit up filter-tipped cigarettes in the seventeenth century.

"The exam starts tomorrow, so in just over half a month, my mission will be complete." The tall, dark figure crouched on the flower bed beneath the laurel tree, his features unreadable, the tip of his cigarette flaring and dimming.

"Yeah, in another twenty days or so, the results will be out." Scholar Huang blew out a few smoke rings. "You've worked hard these days. I wonder if they'll let you stay and work in Hangzhou."

"Let them arrange it however they want. It doesn't matter to me."

"Heh, actually, going to Dayuan is good too. You know what I mean—that place is the Yan'an of our time. It's tough, sure, but it builds your credentials. I have no choice; this shell was tailor-made for me. You should think it over carefully."

"Mm, I'll think about it again later. Finish your smoke and get to bed early; you've got the exam tomorrow."

"K, I'll sleep after this one."

This was a conversation between Huang Zhicheng and the "servant" the Organization had assigned him, on the night before the exam.

Matters had reached this point, and the "Li Kui Plan," which had seemed almost like a joke at the very start, was nearing its end. The Crossing Faction had done everything it could; all that remained was to wait for the result.

On September 17, 167 AD, in the early hours of the ninth day of the eighth lunar month, before the light of dawn, the over ten thousand examinees in Hangzhou City were already lifting their lanterns, carrying their exam baskets, and heading toward the Gongyuan.

The Gongyuan was in the north of the city, not far from Genshan Gate. The normally obscure Gongyuan now blazed with light in the darkness, drawing in the fireflies slowly approaching from all directions. And the master and servant pair of "Scholar Huang Ping" were no different from the other examinees, likewise hurrying along their way in the dark.

When they were still about half a li from the Gongyuan, a checkpoint had already been set up ahead, allowing only the participating scholars to pass. Reaching this point, Huang Zhicheng took the exam basket from the hands of the person behind him. Amid the flickering lamplight, master and servant discreetly clasped hands tightly, and a low voice said, "Go for it!" Then Huang Zhicheng turned around, straightened his scholar's robe, raised his head and puffed out his chest, and strode toward the Gongyuan.

His heroic spirit was soon worn away by the endless waiting, the roll call and number chanting, and the humiliating stripping and body search.

By the time he had wretchedly found his cell, sat down, and caught his breath, it was already past four in the afternoon. He couldn't possibly have brought a watch in with him, so he could only gauge the time by looking at the sun.

Fortunately, the preparatory work had not been in vain. Probably due to that gentry visiting card, the petty official from the Provincial Administration Commission dared not renege. For this Provincial Examination, Scholar Huang had been assigned an old cell in the "Di" section, reasonably spacious for sitting and rising. Not long after he sat down, the old soldier at the door came over, silently swept his cell clean, and later brought water and lit the clay stove. By evening, Scholar Huang finally had his lean meat congee.

He slept to restore his energy, and at the midnight hour, a clerk came to distribute the exam papers. Amid the lamplight, someone was also walking back and forth holding up a question board, shouting the exam topic aloud: "The noble man is easy to serve yet hard to please; when he employs others, it is with virtue—this makes him a sage."