Chapter 37: The Great Ming Military Examination Gaokao Questions!

(Begging for monthly tickets)

(Begging for monthly tickets)

—Carry on the heroic spirit of the Southern Seas, and reclaim the old rivers and mountains of Liaodong!

Having finally squeezed out this wretched doggerel, Zhu Youjian felt all his literary talent was utterly spent.

He skimmed through the remaining routine memorials — all of them were just trivial, miscellaneous matters.

Puzzled, he turned to Gao Shiming. "Are these all of yesterday's memorials?"

Gao Shiming answered earnestly, "In reply to Your Majesty, yesterday's one hundred and seventy-two, plus the forty-three that came into the palace this morning — all are here."

This only baffled Zhu Youjian further.

The move he had made yesterday was so brazen, it was practically writing 'reckless audacity' across the gates of the Forbidden City.

How could these civil officials and ennobled aristocrats be as silent as quails, without a single word?

Then who was it that went to plead with Consort Dowager Liu yesterday? Surely not the Duke of Ying, Zhang Weixian?

What's the game here? My real reforms haven't even begun — how could you, the very backbone of the empire, be the first to pull the rug out from under me?

He pondered for a moment, then chose to trust Consort Dowager Liu's instructions first, and ordered directly, "Go and summon the Duke of Ying to the palace this afternoon."

"Also…" Zhu Youjian paused slightly, a touch embarrassed. "Starting tomorrow, let the Directorate of Ceremonial sort the routine memorials before reporting to me."

Gao Shiming bowed in assent, then asked softly,

"Your Majesty, the instructors from the military school and over three hundred File Leaders with a rough grasp of letters have all arrived. How should they be arranged?"

Zhu Youjian reached up and rubbed his temples, letting out a long sigh. "Summon the instructors in first."

Soon, footsteps approached from a distance.

Xu Yingyuan, the seal-holding eunuch of the Directorate of the Imperial Horses, walked at the very front. Behind him followed three men.

With a single glance, most of the faint expectation in Zhu Youjian's heart sank away.

He even suspected that Xu Yingyuan had fetched the wrong people and brought in some old xiucai on standby at the Hanlin Academy.

The one walking at the very front was a fat man, round and plump all over, like a Maitreya Buddha.

He walked panting heavily, his forehead covered in a sheen of fine sweat.

The one in the middle was a thin man, his frame as frail as a bamboo pole, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

His complexion was sallow, his eye sockets deeply sunken, and a gray long gown hung empty and loose on his body, making him look all the more shabby and down-and-out.

The one at the very back was an old man, already past sixty by the look of him, his hair graying and his beard somewhat unkempt.

His back was slightly hunched, his face etched with the marks of wind and frost, but his eyes were still reasonably clear and bright.

Zhu Youjian's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

It couldn't be like in those wuxia novels, where the more bizarre a person's appearance, the more extraordinary their hidden skills, could it?

"This subject… this subject Qian Kuan (Sun Li, Li Ru), kowtows before Your Majesty! May His Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years!"

The moment the three entered the hall, they dropped to their knees with a thud, their voices trembling with irrepressible excitement and quivering.

The fat one, Qian Kuan, in particular — his movement was so forceful that his forehead struck the cold floor tiles with a dull thump.

For destitute scholars like them, men of unrecognized talent all their lives, to be granted an audience with the imperial countenance was as if green smoke had risen from their ancestral graves.

Zhu Youjian remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking, his voice betraying neither pleasure nor displeasure.

"Rise."

"We thank Your Majesty!"

The three men got to their feet nervously, still keeping their heads lowered, not daring to look directly upon the imperial countenance.

Zhu Youjian's gaze shifted to the old man, Li Ru — surely an older man would at least be more steady and composed.

"Instructor Li, We ask you: what is taught daily at the capital's military school at present?"

Li Ru, hearing this, gave a start and hurriedly bowed in reply.

"In… in reply to Your Majesty, at the military school, students must select one of the following as their classic: the Elementary Learning, the Analects, the Mencius, or the Great Learning."

"And then select one of the following as their supplementary study: the Seven Military Classics or the Biographies of a Hundred Generals."

"Each day, roughly two hundred characters of passages from these are taught."

He hesitated a moment, then hastily added,

"Should there be those of exceptional natural talent and lofty ambition, they are not bound by this limit and may pursue their own studies."

As Zhu Youjian listened, his fingers tapped lightly and unconsciously on the imperial desk.

Never mind the classics — but aren't those Seven Military Classics a bit too detached from practical reality…

He curbed his impatience and pressed on. "Then… what of works like Qi Shaobao's New Treatise on Military Efficiency and Practical Record of Troop Training — are those taught?"

At these words, all three instructors were taken aback. They looked at one another, their expressions somewhat hesitant.

In the end, it was the most timid and shrinking of them, the thin man Sun Li, who mustered his courage, stepped forward, and said in a low voice,

"In reply to Your Majesty… neither the provincial military examinations nor the metropolitan military examinations test Qi Shaobao's military methods, so… so the school generally does not teach them."

"If a student wishes to do so of his own accord, he may… may seek out the texts and read them on his own."

Not tested, so not taught.

What a fine "not tested, so not taught"!

A nameless fury surged up in Zhu Youjian's heart, but he forcibly suppressed it.

Expressionless, he turned his head to look at Xu Yingyuan.

Xu Yingyuan immediately understood and bowed.

"Your Majesty, what Instructor Sun says is true."

"What the military school teaches depends entirely on what the military examinations test."

"After Your Majesty gave the order yesterday, this slave promptly gathered the policy-essay answers of the Zhuangyuan from each military examination subject."

"This essay is the most sought-after masterpiece in martial circles today."

As he spoke, he drew a sheaf of papers from his sleeve, which a junior eunuch presented upward.

"A masterpiece?"

Zhu Youjian felt a flicker of interest at those words — wouldn't that be the equivalent of the Sunflower Manual in the world of wulin?

He took the examination papers and unfolded the first page.

Name: Wen Zhi.

Mounted archery: eight hits out of nine arrows. (The military examination standard is three hits.)

Dismounted archery: three hits out of nine arrows. (The military examination standard is one hit.)

Judging by his proficiency with bow and horse alone, he could be considered a decent military man.

Further down were the examiners' comments.

Examiner, Bureau Director Nie: "We have selected you, sir, not only for your literary brilliance, but still more because your loyalty, righteousness, and integrity leap vividly from the page!"

Chief Supervising Secretary Ling: "Your policy discourse, sir — could it be that Jifu and Fangshu of Zhou have been reborn in our age?"

Supervising Secretary Wang: "A fine essay! Such a powerful piece should be dispatched to the Nine Frontiers and circulated among all the commanders, to rectify their hearts and clarify their purpose!"

As Zhu Youjian read these unstinting words of praise, his curiosity grew keener still.

He raised a hand to signal everyone in the hall to be quiet, then focused his mind and began reading carefully.

The first question of the policy discourse opened on a grand and sweeping scale:

In the use of arms by the ancients, he who excelled at deploying troops did not array them; he who excelled at arraying them did not fight; he who excelled at fighting did not suffer defeat; he who excelled at defeat did not perish.

The art of war says: engage with the orthodox, win with the extraordinary.

Taking Han Xin's strike against Long Ju, Wang Ba's encounter with Wang Lang, Zhou Yu at Red Cliffs, Xie Xuan at the Fei River, Li Su at Huaixi, and Guo Ziyi at Jingyang, assess whether the success in these several campaigns was due to Heaven's favor or to human stratagem.

Did they accord with the art of war or not?

Now the frontier affairs are urgent, and those above thirst for talent as one thirsts for water. You, students, are to become commanders — whom will you take as your model?

An excellent question!

Zhu Youjian inwardly exclaimed in admiration.

The question was set with superb skill, striking straight at the heart of warfare — what decides victory and defeat, luck or planning?

Cunning stratagems and devious tricks, or open and honorable force?

A competitive spirit rose unbidden from the depths of Zhu Youjian's heart.

It was as if he were back in an examination hall of later ages, and written across this question in large characters were the words — Bonus Question: 15 points.

He did not rush to look at the Zhuangyuan Wen Zhi's answer, but instead silently began composing a draft in his own mind.

Take Han Xin's defeat of Long Ju at the Battle of the Wei River as an example.

At the Battle of the Wei River, Han Xin feigned defeat, luring the combined Qi-Chu army under Long Ju to cross the river in pursuit.

When they were halfway across, he breached the upstream dike that had been blocked with sandbags, and the floodwaters came surging down, splitting the enemy forces in two.

Thereupon, Han Xin wheeled his troops around and struck fiercely at the enemy who had already crossed, slaying Long Ju and routing his army.

What was the key to this question?

Zhu Youjian's fingers tapped lightly on the smooth imperial desk as he sank unwittingly into deep contemplation.