Chapter 42: A Thousand Armies Cross a Single Plank Bridge

"There really are a lot of these scholar-officials."

Wu Song marveled at the thousands of scholars before him.

He hadn’t expected that scholars, so rare in a single county, would be so abundant here in the examination compound.

Outside the current examination compound, if you threw a few bricks at random,

nine out of ten you hit would be scholars of considerable standing in their county.

Even Pan Jinlian, gazing at the dense sea of scholars, felt dizzy.

Seeing their shock, Zhang Jie merely smiled.

This is nothing yet.

Shandong is in the north, less prosperous than the Jiangnan region; otherwise, tens of thousands would take the provincial examination.

Some history he’d read before his Chuanyue recorded how overwhelming the numbers were for provincial exams:

According to a memorial submitted by Zhao Ruyu, prefect of Fuzhou in the tenth year of Chunxi under Emperor Xiaozong,

that year, before the imperial examination, sixteen thousand candidates had submitted their household guarantee forms for the preliminary test.

Yet only sixty-two were selected—meaning one passed for every two hundred and seventy applicants.

Two hundred and seventy to one may sound generous, but remember,

a scholar-official was already one in every ten or even one in every hundred among literate men.

Among this vast multitude of scholars, any one picked at random would rank among the top dozens in their county.

The difficulty of the imperial examination was truly no less than a carp leaping over the dragon gate.

Compared to this, the modern phrase “thousands competing over a narrow bridge” paled in comparison.

Those who passed the palace examination were no longer merely skilled at balancing across a narrow bridge,

but could fly or leap over it like immortals!

Had Zhang Jie not undergone a beneficial transformation of his mind after his Chuanyue ,

achieving near-photographic memory, he would have abandoned the imperial examination path long ago.

The rebel generals Huang Chao and Hong Xiuquan, the “Second Son of God” and rightful heir to the Vatican, told us:

For an ordinary man, the difficulty of passing the exam to enter Chang’an was greater than storming Chang’an itself!

Time passed as Zhang Jie wandered in idle thought,

and he took from Wu Song the examination basket specially prepared for the exam.

“Young master, good luck!”

As she left, Pan Jinlian gave Zhang Jie a spirited cheer.

Soon, Zhang Jie, positioned toward the middle and rear of the line, reached the entrance to the examination compound.

Here, not only were supervising examiners present, but also dozens of fully armed soldiers guarding the gate.

“Zhang Jie of Yanggu County?”

The clerk checked the roll and found Zhang Jie’s name.

“That’s me.”

Zhang Jie answered while handing over his examination credential.

Candidates for the provincial examination must verify their identity in advance: carrying a “permit” (called “yuan’an”) with their name,

age, native place, and physical features,

to prevent impersonation (no photographs in ancient times—reliance on textual descriptions like “fair-skinned, beardless, black mole on left eyebrow”).

The clerk took the yuan’an and carefully examined it,

occasionally raising his head to observe Zhang Jie, and after several checks, nodded:

“Hmm, correct. You’ve passed.”

Having cleared the first stage, Zhang Jie quickly moved to the second.

“Hmm, Scholar Zhang’s attire is plain and thin—no hidden compartments.”

Seeing Zhang Jie’s natural posture and clothing with no unusual bulges or thickened areas,

the clerk responsible for checking for concealed materials nodded in satisfaction.

The provincial examination was too important; some clueless scholars always tried every trick to cheat.

From hair to shoe soles, people hid materials everywhere.

Some candidates copied scriptures onto the linings of clothes and shoes,

often written with mouse-hair brushes on paper as thin as cicada wings.

Court ministers had even proposed requiring candidates to remove all clothing, including shoes, and be searched naked.

But the emperor and other ministers deemed such measures too indecent,

beneath the dignity of scholars, and thus discouraged them.

“Please open your examination basket, Scholar Zhang.”

The clerk added.

To prevent cheating, the examination basket too must be thoroughly inspected.

Zhang Jie placed the basket on the table and opened it naturally.

“Scholar Zhang clearly understands the rules!”

The clerk smiled more warmly after glancing at the basket.

One side of the basket held brushes, ink, inkstone, paperweight, water dropper, and other stationery.

To prevent cheating, inkstones had to be thin,

water droppers ceramic, brush handles hollowed out—this went without saying.

Since the provincial exam lasted three days, the other side of the basket naturally held food.

What pleased the clerk was that Zhang Jie’s bing (steamed buns), shaobing (baked flatbread), pastries,

and pickled vegetables were all broken open; even the single roasted duck was sliced.

These foods clearly couldn’t conceal anything, saving them considerable effort.

With thousands of candidates and only dozens of clerks checking,

cutting open every single food item would exhaust them completely.

If they could have refused, he wouldn’t have taken this job for anything!

Zhang Jie heard the clerk’s words but smiled without replying:

If you didn’t want to end up with a pile of crumbled food,

better to prepare it yourself or get it ready properly ahead of time.

Besides, who knew what the clerk checking his food had touched before?

After all, this was food going into his own body—Zhang Jie preferred caution.

Next, Zhang Jie was called by the order of the Thousand Character Classic (“Heaven, Earth, Dark, Yellow”),

then signed the “Personal Declaration Form,” similar to modern candidate signature confirmation.

Having completed all procedures, Zhang Jie took his examination number and searched for his assigned cell.

The cell was a miniature “private room” where candidates ate and slept for the three days of the exam.

The entire examination ground consisted of rows of long, narrow cells.

Each cell was about two meters high, one meter wide, and one and a half meters deep—roughly the size of a modern bathroom.

No door in front, no window in back; only a cloth curtain hung to shield from wind and rain.

“Good, good—I wasn’t assigned a cell near the latrine.”

Zhang Jie, having found his cell by the sign, sighed with relief.

Since candidates couldn’t leave the compound, the latrines were naturally inside.

The smell of the dry latrines without flush toilets was how “pleasant,”

Zhang Jie, having grown up in the countryside in his past life, knew all too well.

Even ten meters away, the stench made one dizzy, “euphoric”…

Especially now in Jinan, summer, over thirty degrees Celsius,

the fermented odor of thousands of people’s waste was unimaginable.

It was said the latrine fumes were so overpowering that many candidates preferred to hold it in…

Now, the incense pouch Pan Jinlian prepared for him—meant to refresh the mind and mask odors—was useless.

“Damn, this facility is too shabby!”

Zhang Jie stared at the cell’s two wooden planks, speechless.

The upper plank served as a desk, the lower as a chair; at night, they were joined to form a bed.

“No wonder they say the imperial examination is a dual test of body and mind.”

Zhang Jie glanced at the cell’s width and realized tall candidates couldn’t even stretch their legs.

Moreover, the cell’s floor was slightly lower than the surrounding ground; during rain,

water would pool inside, forcing candidates to stand in water while writing.

Zhang Jie first took out a cloth and cleaned the cell—though it might have been swept before use,

it was still covered in spiderwebs and dust.

Pan Jinlian had also prepared rolled cloth and oilcloth for Zhang Jie.

Pan Jinlian had also prepared rolls of cloth and oilcloth for Zhang Jie.

The cloth roll can serve as a mat when writing, and as a tablecloth when eating.

The oilcloth must be used when necessary to shield from wind and rain,

since the examination cell has only three walls, and the roof may leak.

To be safe, completed exam papers can also be protected with oilcloth.

Looking at the array of items Pan Jinlian had prepared in the exam basket,

Zhang Jie couldn’t help but appreciate the importance of having a virtuous wife.

The saying “Behind every successful man is a woman

who silently supports him” holds some truth.

Then Zhang Jie took out a small stove, a small pot, and a few pieces of old ginger,

planning to boil some ginger soup to ward off colds caused by sudden temperature changes.

Though he already had inner strength protecting his body and was nearly immune to colds,

this was still Pan Jinlian’s thoughtful gesture.

Moreover, if one can be more comfortable, why suffer unnecessarily?

At night, Zhang Jie, who had once lived as a beggar under the sky and on the earth with the Dragon, slept soundly.

But the others were not so lucky.

Scholars from poor families fared better—they could endure the hardship of the examination cells.

Yet for aristocratic young men raised in luxury, it was an unbearable torment.

They tossed and turned, unable to sleep, each one groaning in misery.

Yet the provincial examination was an exam of great importance, second only to the metropolitan and palace examinations,

and their elders had specifically warned them of the rules of the provincial exam.

Thus, though they suffered intensely, none of them abandoned the exam.

What made Zhang Jie feel fortunate was that among these thousands of scholars,

no one had cracked under pressure and begun screaming.

Since ancient times, armies have feared not night raids, but camp riots and camp screams.

A single camp riot could destroy most, or even completely shatter,

even the most disciplined and elite troops.

In the movie The Shawshank Redemption, on Andy’s first night in prison,

a fat man, unable to bear the fear and pressure,

screamed loudly, “I want to go home,” nearly sparking a prison-wide riot.

The fat man was immediately silenced by guard captain Hadley with brute force, and ultimately beaten to death.

“Dong dong dong~”

The next day, as the gong rang, this year’s provincial examination officially began.

The first exam focused on classical meaning, centered on the Four Books and Five Classics.

Candidates were required to compose tightly structured eight-part essays based on the original texts, including sections like the opening, expansion, and preliminary discourse.

Zhang Jie, with his photographic memory, feared nothing about this—he wrote with torrential inspiration, as if guided by divine hands,

and in less than an hour, he had roughly drafted an entire essay on scratch paper…