Chapter 129: Chencang

The ministers looked at Chongzhen, seated on the dragon throne, with doubtful eyes. In their minds, the Emperor had always acted according to established rules, and when faced with major matters, he would only make a final decision after consulting with the senior ministers of the Grand Secretariat. How could it be that this time, with such a major matter, he was about to make a unilateral decision without even the Grand Secretariat being informed?

Chongzhen nodded and said, "I do have this intention, but I have not yet made up my mind!"

Wang Yingxiong stepped forward and memorialized, "I report to Your Majesty, your ministers are all products of the imperial examinations, and we know well the hopes and hardships of scholars. How many people expend vast sums of money and energy for the day when they might pass the examinations and bring glory to their ancestors! If Your Majesty truly does this, how will the tens of thousands of provincial graduates bear it!"

His distant nephew had also come to the capital this time, preparing to take next year's metropolitan examination. Wang Yingxiong naturally planned to pull some strings so that his nephew could pass next year. He never expected the Emperor to suddenly intend to cancel next year's spring examination, which made Wang Yingxiong extremely dissatisfied. He was too old; four years from now he would certainly no longer be at court, and if he had to entrust the matter to others then, the outcome would be hard to predict. His nephew's future was tied to the Wang family's standing in the years to come—no! This matter must be stopped! The Emperor could not be allowed to act on his whims.

Zhang Zhifa memorialized, "We scholars read the books of the sages precisely to help Your Majesty govern the state and bring peace to the people, so as to prolong the mandate of the Great Ming. The imperial examination is the most important means by which the court selects talent. Now that the situation is gradually stabilizing and the people yearn for peace, how can Your Majesty stir up trouble for no reason?"

Chongzhen knew the nature of these court officials. If you said the room was too dark and suggested opening a window in the wall, they would certainly list all kinds of reasons to oppose you and persuade you, until you agreed not to open the window.

But if you said the room was too dark and suggested tearing off the roof, then while they desperately opposed that, they would agree to your request to open a window.

The reason he had let the Embroidered Uniform Guard leak the news that next year's spring examination might be suspended was precisely to retreat in order to advance, making these ministers agree to the measures he would subsequently propose.

Chongzhen smiled and said, "It is only a suspension of next year's spring examination, not an outright abolition of the imperial examinations. All of you ministers are worrying overmuch."

Zhang Guowei, Minister of Rites, memorialized, "Since Emperor Wen of Sui first created the imperial examination system, a thousand years have passed, and every dynasty has regarded it as the cornerstone of the state. Emperor Taizong of Tang once looked upon a hundred newly passed jinshi and uttered the famous words, 'All the heroes of the empire have entered my snare.' Now, though the Great Ming suffers from endless natural disasters and frequent bandit troubles, under Your Majesty's wise and decisive leadership, none of these amount to anything. What I wish to know is: what exactly has given Your Majesty this notion? Your old minister is dull-witted; I beg Your Majesty to resolve our doubts!"

No kidding—the Ministry of Rites was a department with no real power, usually ignored by everyone. Although Ministers of Rites could basically enter the Grand Secretariat, the mid- and lower-level officials beneath them found promotion extremely difficult. Only during the triennial metropolitan examination, when the Ministry of Rites oversaw it, did the ministry become the focus of everyone's attention. At that time, not only did the higher-ups rake in money hand over fist, even some clerks and petty functionaries could share in the benefits. Everyone had been waiting with bated breath, and just when they finally had the chance to get their hands in the till, you go and shut it down with a clang—wasn't that cutting off everyone's source of income?

Chongzhen had no obligation to resolve their doubts. He simply sat up straight and asked in return, "Then let me ask you all: what is the purpose of the imperial examinations?"

Wen Tiren replied, "I report to Your Majesty, speaking simply, I believe the imperial examinations exist to select and store talent for the state, giving scholars from humble backgrounds who wish to serve the court a path and platform to display their ambitions."

Most of the others nodded in agreement; Wen Tiren's answer was unobjectionable. But Chongzhen believed the most fundamental purpose of the imperial examinations was to restrict the content of what was tested, instilling the ideology of hierarchy and deference into every person's mind, thereby controlling hearts and minds. Yet the examinations had indeed selected many talented people, and the creation of this system had broken the monopoly that great aristocratic families had long held over officialdom, allowing many geniuses of humble origin to stand out. Chongzhen was full of admiration for Yang Jian, who had created the imperial examination system.

Chongzhen nodded and said, "What Minister Wen says is quite right. Under the examination systems of successive dynasties, many dazzlingly brilliant talents worthy of admiration have indeed been born. Since our founding emperor established this dynasty, many capable ministers who governed well were only able to display their abilities after being promoted through the examinations. But have you all noticed that there are even more mediocrities under the examination system?"

These words had a slightly face-slapping quality, but none of the ministers thought the Emperor meant them.

Wen Tiren memorialized, "Your old minister dares to ask Your Majesty: what is a mediocrity?"

Chongzhen said gravely, "You all know well enough the current situation. What the Great Ming needs now are people who understand the hardships of the common folk, who, once governing a region, have the methods and ability to promote what is beneficial and eliminate what is harmful, so that the people under their charge have no worries of poverty or illness, no suffering from exploitation, and can live without concern for food and clothing—not bookworms who can only make essays from allusions and seek answers from the classics!"

Li Banghua memorialized, "Your Majesty's words are indeed thought-provoking. From what your minister knows, many provincial graduates bury their heads in books all day and know very little about the ways of the world. For instance, what is the local price of salt? What is the cost of producing salt? How much rice and flour does an adult need per day? How much grain does a household need per year to be fed and clothed? These are the matters of people's livelihood that concern every household, and they are precisely what an official must know. I dare to wager with anyone: send someone into the streets to randomly question a provincial graduate, and there is absolutely no way he will know such details! In the eyes of such graduates, being well-versed in books already makes them superior people; as for the so-called people's livelihood, someone else will handle it—they just need to be officials and lords! If such people pass the examinations and govern a region, one can imagine the plight of the common people under their charge!"

Everyone in the hall secretly felt disgust toward Li Banghua, thinking to themselves: As if you know the price of salt! Is being an official supposed to be like those lowly clerks? If one were like common market folk, spending every day in the fields and streets, then one would know everything—but what fun would there be in being an official then?

Chongzhen praised loudly, "Well said, Minister Li! This is precisely my worry! I believe the provincial graduates have already memorized the Four Books and Five Classics thoroughly, which is sufficient for self-cultivation. Next, they ought to learn matters closely related to people's livelihood! If they do not know the people's needs and worries, once they pass and are appointed as magistrates of prefectures and counties, they will easily be deceived by clerks and yamen runners, giving them opportunities to manipulate matters, ultimately provoking widespread complaints and ruining their reputations! What I find laughable is that everyone considers themselves dragons and phoenixes among men, yet they end up being deceived by people who cannot even read a single character—do you not find that a shame? Even for the honor of scholars, you all ought to reflect on yourselves!"

Everyone fell silent. Although they felt the Emperor's words were somewhat extreme, there was also reason in them. But since the Emperor's words seemed to carry a hint of contempt for scholars, no one supported him; only a scant few agreed with Chongzhen's remarks.

Wen Tiren memorialized, "Your old minister agrees with Your Majesty's words. But if this is used as the reason to end the metropolitan examination, how are the provincial graduates to bear it? All who have passed the provincial examinations are people who have read ten thousand volumes and are exceptionally intelligent—they simply do not match Your Majesty's criteria for selecting talent. Your old minister believes that as long as they set aside poetry and classics and turn to studying practical subjects, they will certainly far surpass those clerks!"

Wang Yingxiong followed up, "What Grand Secretary Wen says is quite right. In terms of intellect, how can those fellows compare with scholars? What the students lack is only practice! As long as they are given time, I believe they will certainly not disappoint Your Majesty!"

Xiong Rulin, Minister of Justice, memorialized, "So-called talents for governing the age also require decades of tempering before they mature. For Your Majesty to cut off the hopes of advancement for all the provincial graduates based on a single personal notion is truly akin to Confucius executing Shao Zhengmao! Your minister believes Your Majesty should still give the provincial graduates a chance!"

Chongzhen said impatiently, "What chance? I pondered this matter long and hard before reaching this conclusion. The students normally revere the classics as sacred texts—would they be willing to lower themselves to do things they despise? Do not raise this matter again!"

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances. It seemed the Emperor harbored deep prejudice against scholars who only knew how to study mechanically. Who knew which treacherous minister had put this bad idea into the Emperor's head? What was to be done?

Wen Tiren spoke up, "Your Majesty, several hundred provincial graduates from all over have already gathered in the capital, and many more are still on their way. If Your Majesty insists on this course, when all these people have traveled thousands of li to reach the capital only to hear the spring examination is cancelled, should they make a disturbance, I fear it will invite the laughter of the whole empire and chill the hearts of countless scholars!"

Li Erxi, standing beside Chongzhen, muttered, "What's there to fear if they make a disturbance? Just a bunch of big-head scarves—a single Centurion's post of the Embroidered Uniform Guard could wipe them all out!"

Li Banghua pointed his finger and roared, "Bah! How dare you, a eunuch, utter such vicious words! Scholars are the conscience of the empire! If they truly gather in numbers, they should only be placated with kind words—how could one meet them with swords and spears?! How would that differ from the Mongol barbarians?!"

Chongzhen turned sideways, glared, and shouted, "Get out!"

Li Erxi obediently shuffled aside, lowered his head, and stuck out his tongue. This was all taught by the Emperor—he was to seize the right moment to say these words. That old man from the Censorate was truly fierce; the way he looked just now was like he wanted to eat someone.

Wen Tiren continued, "What your old minister said just now came from the bottom of his heart. I beg Your Majesty to think it over thrice! Whatever plans Your Majesty has, please bring them forth, but the policy of cancelling next year's spring examination is indeed inappropriate!"

Chongzhen said with a stern face, "Let me think it over before speaking further! I am weary—all of you may withdraw!"

Over the following days, the provincial graduates continued to make a fuss without cease. Wen Tiren and others conveyed the Emperor's intentions to the assembled graduates, explaining clearly that the Emperor knew they were all people of brilliant talent, but what they lacked was the practical ability to govern localities. Now that famines were breaking out everywhere and bandit troubles had only just subsided, the common people could not withstand more upheaval. If the spring examination were to continue and the court sent newly passed jinshi to govern localities, these people, who had never so much as touched spring water with their ten fingers, would know nothing whatsoever about handling local administration or avoiding deception by clerks—they could only let wicked functionaries harm the people. In that case, not only would their personal reputations suffer and their prospects for promotion vanish, but even the Emperor would bear the foul name of being muddle-headed. For an Emperor who cherished his reputation like feathers, this was simply unacceptable, and so they hoped the graduates would understand the court's good intentions. Wen Tiren also hinted in his words that the Emperor could not bear to make them wait another four years—as long as the students familiarized themselves with people's livelihoods, delved into practical matters, and read a few miscellaneous books like the Great Ming Code or the Complete Treatise on Agriculture, the matter was not necessarily without a turning point—there might even be a greater surprise in store.

Aside from a few pedantic fools, which of these provincial graduates was not a shrewd operator? Grand Secretary Wen had already pointed out the crux of the matter: His Majesty wanted people who could do real work, not merely talented scholars who could compose poetry and match couplets.

In an instant, the Great Ming Code, the Complete Treatise on Agriculture, the Essential Arts for the People, and similar miscellaneous books in the capital's large and small bookshops were snapped up clean. Some graduates bought dozens of copies of a single book, saving them for fellow graduates from the same province who had not yet arrived—this counted as a considerable favor. Prices for such books in the shops began to rise, and various printing houses started working overtime to print these miscellaneous books that normally would not sell, earning themselves a small profit in the process.

In the end, after Wen Tiren and other senior ministers had earnestly remonstrated several times, Chongzhen reluctantly agreed that next year's metropolitan examination would proceed. However, the examination questions would not be drawn from the classics; instead, they would test policy essays, which had to contain substantive content—otherwise, the candidate would be failed on the spot.

At this point, Chongzhen's strategy of "repairing the plank road in the open while secretly crossing at Chencang" had finally succeeded. He had at last taken a small step toward changing the Great Ming.