Chapter 50: Provincial Examination Results Posted

Outside the Jinan Examination Hall in the Water Margin world, the crowd was thronging.

Candidates from every county and city, along with their servants and bookboys,

plus onlookers, had packed the area around the hall so tightly not a single person could squeeze through.

The reason for such commotion outside the hall today was that it was the day the provincial examination results were posted.

Posting the list was also called “posting the board,” meaning the announcement of those admitted after the exam.

The provincial examination results were posted in September, typically on days with the Earthly Branches Yin or Chen,

for Chen symbolized the dragon and Yin the tiger, evoking the “Dragon-Tiger List”;

and since it occurred in autumn when osmanthus blossoms were in full bloom, it was also called the “Osmanthus List.”

It was still not yet time for the posting, but the area outside the hall was already packed.

Candidates with servants or bookboys could send them to check the list on their behalf,

while poor or anxious candidates came in person.

Yet because the provincial examination was so crucial, unless truly unable to come,

every candidate would show up to see the list.

After all, seeing it oneself was far more reassuring than hearing it secondhand.

Even Zhang Jie, confident in his abilities, had come early to the hall,

urged on by Pan Jinlian, who was alternately hopeful and fearful, along with Wu Song

and Chen Wen, his fellow examinee.

Accompanying Zhang Jie and his group was Wang Lao, the owner of the Haoke Lai Inn where they stayed.

“Will I make the list this time?”

“I messed up one of the policy questions—I probably have no chance now.”

“I hope my essay catches the chief examiner’s eye.”

“Confucius protect me, Wenchang Emperor protect me, Kuixing Star protect me.”

The candidates expressed doubt, anxiety, despair, calmness, or prayed to gods and spirits—

each in their own way, vividly portraying the myriad faces of humanity.

The onlookers, however, all wore smiles on their faces.

They were here for the spectacle and the gossip—who cared whose spectacle or whose gossip it was?

“Steamed dumplings for sale!”

“Fried tofu balls for sale!”

“Cold tea for sale! Wang’s Cold Tea!”

Clever vendors had begun selling snacks and small goods.

“Make way! Make way!”

As the sun rose, a group of yamen runners escorted an official carrying a scroll made of yellow paper out of the examination hall.

The Song provincial examination grading took place within the “examination halls” of each prefecture,

primarily in designated halls such as the Zhigong Hall, where examiners were sealed in until the list was released.

“The yellow list is coming! The yellow list is coming!”

A sharp-eyed candidate close by spotted the scroll in the official’s hands and began shouting excitedly.

The palace examination was personally administered and selected by the emperor, so its list was called the “Imperial List.”

To display the Son of Heaven’s majesty, to make scholars across the land regard the emperor as their master, and strengthen rule,

as well as to express good wishes for those who passed,

the provincial list was deliberately written on specially made yellow paper, to echo the sound of “Imperial List” as “Yellow List.”

“Yellow List!”

“The list is out!”

The already noisy crowd erupted into chaos.

“Tom, this many people is so loud!”

Zhang Jie’s acute hearing instantly felt his eardrums vibrating at several times their normal frequency and amplitude.

He instinctively channeled Qi to shield his ears; otherwise, his hearing would surely deteriorate.

The official holding the yellow list paid no heed to the excited crowd,

and slowly made his way along the path cleared by the yamen runners to the posting site.

According to longstanding custom, he slowly unrolled the list from bottom to top.

Because the crowd was so dense, officials feared trampling, so

the yamen had specially selected several runners with enormous lung capacity and thunderous voices to announce the names.

“Changyi County, Xu Qianxue, candidate Xu, ranked seventy-second on the provincial list!”

Several runners shouted together the first name and hometown of the successful candidate.

“Eh! I passed! I passed!”

In the crowd, an old man in plain clothes, his hair and beard now streaked white, cried out in excitement.

The people around him looked at Old Scholar Xu differently.

Even those who had once looked down on this poor scholar now changed their attitude.

Even if Scholar Xu had merely scraped in as the last name on the list—the “Sun Shan” of “falling short of Sun Shan”—

still, a juren was a juren, no longer a shengyuan.

A shengyuan might still be poor and shabby, but a juren never was.

Leaving aside the privileges of juren—exemption from corvée labor and taxes—

merely the fact that a juren was qualified to become an official severed any link to poverty.

Though juren appointments were inferior to jinshi ones, who at least began as seventh-rank county magistrates,

juren could still serve as assistant magistrates or county instructors at eighth or seventh rank.

In the 21st century, that would be the county’s number two and the director of education!

The famed Hai Rui became an official as a juren,

his first post being instructor of Nanping County.

Not to mention that Scholar Xu, now Juren Xu, was already eligible for the metropolitan examination.

If he passed as a gongshi and then became a jinshi, might he not have a chance to enter the Hanlin Academy,

join the Song central government, and become one of the chancellors ruling the realm?

What of Juren Xu’s white hair and advanced age?

What problem was that?

In our Great Song, where the emperor rules jointly with the scholar-officials, as long as your name is called outside Donghua Gate,

even if your hair is white or you’re seventy or eighty, barely able to walk—you’re still a fine man!

In the final years of Emperor Renzong’s reign, Han Qi returned to court, serving successively as Director of the Privy Council and Tong Pingzhangshi,

holding rank equal to Han and Tang chancellors, and openly declared:

“Only those whose names are called outside Donghua Gate are true men!”

“Is Juren Xu married?”

Already, some wealthy landowners had begun making their move.

Calm and composed, not as mad as Fan Jin, Juren Xu blushed slightly:

“My family is poor; I’m past forty and still unmarried.”

The stout landowner seized Juren Xu’s hand:

“I have a daughter, sixteen years old, also unmarried—

clearly, fate has destined us for marriage!”

With keen ears and eyes, Zhang Jie watched as Juren Xu

and the landowner began addressing each other as “Father-in-law” and “Son-in-law.”

“No wonder so many go mad over the imperial exams.”

Zhang Jie stroked his chin, sighing.

The lines from Emperor Zhenzong Zhao Heng’s poem “Encouragement to Study”:

“Wealthy families need not buy good land; books hold a thousand bushels of grain.

For a comfortable home, no need to build lofty halls; books hold golden chambers.

Don’t lament no one accompanies you on the road; books bring carriages and horses in abundance.

Don’t grieve over lack of a good matchmaker; books hold beauties as fair as jade.

If a man fulfills his life’s ambition, diligently study the Six Classics before the window.”

And here it was—Juren Xu’s “fair jade” and “golden chamber” had come knocking on his door.

“Licheng, Yucheng, Zhangqiu, Changqing...”

The announcers paid no mind to the excited Juren Xu and others, continuing their steady recitation.

“Yuncheng County, Chen Wenyun, candidate Chen, ranked thirty-sixth on the provincial list!”

The runner called Chen Wen’s name midway, right beside Zhang Jie.

“Good! Good!”

After learning he had passed the provincial examination, Chen Xiucai did not react with the same excitement as Xu Juren; instead, he murmured to himself.

Yet the excitement and joy in his eyes could not be concealed.

“Congratulations, Brother Chen, on your success.”

Zhang Jie bowed to Chen Xiucai in congratulations.

“Congratulations, Big Brother Chen.”

Wu Song and Pan Jinlian also offered their congratulations to Chen Xiucai.

“Congratulations, Master Chen.”

Wang Lao, owner of Haokelai Inn, came to congratulate Chen Xiucai.

“Mutual congratulations, mutual congratulations. Your essays are refined and masterful; you will surely rank above me.”

Chen Xiucai smiled warmly and returned each bow in turn.

“Laoyang, Jiaoshui, Jimo, Penglai, Huangxian, Muping, Wenden...”

As the yamen runners called out the names, the list of preceding candidates grew shorter, yet Zhang Jie’s name never appeared.

“Young Master, there are still ten names left on the list; you must be among them,” Pan Jinlian reassured him, fearing his anxiety.

Yet while comforting Zhang Jie, her own small fists clenched so tightly that veins stood out.

Wu Song, too, grew anxious, visibly restless.

He regarded Zhang Jie as a brother and naturally did not wish for him to fail the exam.

“Young Brother Renjie may well be the runner-up!”

Chen Xiucai stroked his beard and smiled.

In the provincial examination rankings, the first-place candidate is called “Jieyuan,” the second “Yayuan,”

the third through fifth are called “Jingkui,” the sixth “Yaqi,”

and those below seventh are collectively termed “Wenkui” or designated by rank as “No. X Juren.”

After these days of interaction, Chen Xiucai regarded Zhang Jie as a prodigy and held great confidence in him.

“Relax,” Zhang Jie gave Pan Jinlian a reassuring glance and gently took her small hand in his own.

Seeing Zhang Jie so composed, Wu Song and Pan Jinlian finally calmed slightly.

But as the names for “Yaqi” and “Jingkui” were announced—none were Zhang Jie’s—Pan Jinlian’s heart began to rise in dread.

Zhang Jie gave Pan Jinlian a reassuring glance and placed her small hand in his own.

Seeing Zhang Jie so composed, Wu Song and Pan Jinlian finally calmed slightly.

But as the names of “Yaqi” and “Jingkui” were announced,

neither was Zhang Jie, and Pan Jinlian’s heart gradually rose.