Chapter 199: A Way Out

Once the metropolitan examination is finished, Zhu Youjian will issue an edict to the Grand Secretariat, directing the Ministry of Rites to gather the unsuccessful candidates at the Imperial Academy, and then arrange for officials from the Six Ministries, the Censorate, and the Court of Judicial Review to lecture them on the processes and methods of handling various government affairs.

Bureau Directors, Vice Bureau Directors, Bureau Secretaries, and even clerks and scribes with outstanding professional ability from each ministry will take turns going to the Imperial Academy to teach the juren candidates.

These failed candidates are to remain at the Imperial Academy for a full three years, during which periodic assessments of various kinds will be held. Those who distinguish themselves in a particular area will be selected for office and sent out to take up posts at any time.

For example, if you possess deep knowledge and insight into the law, then congratulations — Juye County in Shandong lacks a deputy judicial official for the Provincial Surveillance Commission's sub-office, with a rank of 7B. The court will provide you with several subordinates and you can take up your post immediately. Your authority is to hear and decide cases according to the laws of the Great Ming. No official has the right to interfere in your duties, including the County Magistrate, as well as superior officials such as the Governor and Prefect. You need only adjudicate strictly according to the penal code. But this does not mean you may do as you please — the local Censor and the Embroidered Uniform Guard Centurion will sit in on your hearings and will make detailed records of your words and actions for the files.

If you make obvious errors in adjudicating a case, the Censor and the Embroidered Uniform Guard will raise questions about your conduct and submit the problems to your superiors. The case will then draw the attention of more senior officials. If you have engaged in favoritism or perversion of justice, then you had better consider the consequences.

If you enjoy construction and building-type matters, then as long as you pass the assessments, you will be released as a Bureau Secretary of the Ministry of Works sub-office at the prefecture or county level — also a 7B rank position — mainly responsible for local road renovation and expansion and related matters, as well as urban planning, farmland irrigation works, and other such management duties.

Because you must personally participate in various projects and spend long periods working in the field, this position carries substantial allowances and subsidies — this also serves as an incentive to encourage more people to take up the work.

Selecting officials from among failed juren candidates is not unprecedented; this time it is merely being expanded. This measure will be widely welcomed by both officialdom and the scholarly community, because it involves far too many people. A good thing that gives more scholars another path in life — who would oppose it? Who would dare oppose it?

Many who passed the provincial examination have sat for the metropolitan examination several times, only to fail again and again. They themselves have lost confidence in their futures.

Although juren could previously become officials, there were only so many posts. You had to register at the Ministry of Personnel and then go home to wait — who knew when an opening would appear, if ever?

These juren who repeatedly failed the examinations are not lacking in ability. Could someone who stood out in the provincial examination be a fool? Many are simply unlucky.

While envying those who passed, they cannot help but feel resentful inside.

When we usually compare our work, your essays are not necessarily better than mine, and your talent is no greater than mine — so why did you pass while I failed? There must be something shady going on; bribing the examiners wouldn't be surprising.

Zhu Youjian's new plan will give this large group of people an excellent way out, and the results will be good.

Why?

The reason is simple.

Having failed the examination, they were dejected and indignant. Now suddenly the court grants them official posts at no low rank — how could these people not take their work seriously?

Take, for example, a juren selected as a local Censor. He was resentful before, but now he serves as an official in the same county as the newly minted jinshi — this gives him the perfect legitimate excuse to keep watch on you, find your mistakes, and submit memorials impeaching you. Such a good deal he never even dreamed of.

Scholars have always disparaged one another — this trait should be put to good use.

Of course, follow-up regulations will need to be drafted. For instance, at the metropolitan examination three years hence, the vast majority of these juren will still participate. After all, the prospects of a jinshi are far greater than those of a juren. One cannot focus only on the present; one must also look to the future.

In what form they will take the metropolitan examination in the future, and who will handle their affairs in the meantime — this needs careful thought.

No matter — everything is still several years away. No need to consider it for now; solutions will naturally emerge in the meantime.

These measures will inevitably produce oversights and abuses during implementation, but that's fine — they can be corrected or improved according to actual circumstances when the time comes.

In the future, the quota for successful jinshi candidates should be reduced, from the current three hundred or so per session down to one hundred, raising the bar for passing so that the numerous juren and Imperial Academy students become the mainstream of the Great Ming's officialdom. Pragmatism and competence will become the new trend in government service.

Officials from juren and Imperial Academy backgrounds will not stop at rank 5B either — they should at least reach the level of Vice Minister at rank 3A or 2B. This will give officials of juren origin something to hope for.

These measures of Zhu Youjian's will not provoke much controversy at court, especially one particular provision: from now on, Imperial Academy students will enjoy the same treatment as juren candidates.

The sons and brothers of the various senior ministers and grandees are not all outstanding elites in their studies. In fact, quite the opposite — most court officials' sons and grandsons rarely possess exceptional literary talent or ability.

Although the Emperor, out of regard for long-serving ministers, will grant their descendants a measure of imperial favor, such favor does not permit them to take office — they can only enjoy the treatment at home. Under such circumstances, if no descendant ever passes the examinations again, the family will quickly decline. If several generations produce no one in office, then who will give a damn about you?

But the policy allowing Imperial Academy students to take office gives the senior ministers hope — hope that their descendants can endure for generations. Because the sons and grandsons of these ministers will all be admitted to the Imperial Academy, as the Emperor mentioned some days ago.

Of course, this does not mean every Imperial Academy student or juren can take office — only after passing various strict assessments.

But the threshold for entering officialdom has already been lowered considerably. Whatever achievements their descendants make in the future will depend on whether they have the mettle. The Emperor's measure can already be considered the utmost benevolence.

The tone for administrative reform has been set. All Zhu Youjian needs to do now is wait. Everything takes time, and especially this kind of revolutionary innovation will involve a long and tortuous process.

Inside a sugar-making shed in Jun'an Town, Xinghua County, Zhangzhou Prefecture, Fujian, a man in short working clothes named Li Xing was busily at work. He lifted a waist-high clay jar with both arms, carried it to a large vat, and slowly tilted the jar downward. Dark yellow, extremely viscous sugarcane juice trickled from the jar's mouth into the clay cone vessel placed atop the vat's opening.

The clay cone was wide at the top and tapered to a point at the bottom, lined inside with clean rushes. At the very bottom of the cone was a small hole stoppered with straw.

After all the sugarcane juice in the clay jar had been poured into the cone, Li Xing set down the jar, wiped the sweat from his face with a ragged cloth draped over his shoulder, turned and walked to the water vat, picked up the wooden ladle beside it, scooped half a ladle of cool water, tilted his head back, and gulped it down noisily.

"A-Xing, how much silver do we have left? We're running low on sugarcane — I'll go buy some more!"

The speaker was Li Xing's elder brother — Li Chong.

"There's still a dozen or so taels of loose silver in the cabinet in the house. Take it all — buy ten taels' worth of sugarcane, and use the rest to buy rice. We're running low on rice at home too!"

Li Xing set down the wooden ladle, wiped the water from the corner of his mouth, and replied.

This crude sugar-making shed was his family's property, in operation for nearly five years now. Each month it produced over ten dan of brown sugar and one or two dan of white sugar and rock sugar, bringing the Li family an income of over ten taels of silver.

But the sugar-making season lasted only five or six months a year, from when the sugarcane ripened in the twelfth month until around Qingming the following year. The Li family had over ten members, young and old. After deducting various miscellaneous expenses, the family could net thirty or forty taels of silver a year from the sugar shed — a fairly decent income.

Li Xing had just turned twenty. He was short and stocky, solid and strong. He was the second child in the family — with an elder brother above him, a younger sister below, and parents past forty.

His elder brother Li Chong was two years older, with a wife and two sons. Besides working in the shed, he was also responsible for purchasing daily necessities for the household. The two young sons — the elder only six and the younger four — were looked after by family members.

Li Xing had married at seventeen, and his wife had borne him a son and a daughter in succession. Since the children were still very young, Li Xing's mother, sister-in-law, his twelve-year-old younger sister, and his own wife stayed at home looking after the children and managing household affairs, while the sugar shed was run by his father and the two brothers.

Spring had just begun not long ago, and the temperature in Fujian was gradually rising. Combined with the heavy physical labor required, Li Xing was already beginning to feel the heat.

"A-Xing, go check whether the sugar syrup has set!" His father's voice came from beyond the wall.

Li Xing acknowledged with a grunt, walked over to the clay cone, and glanced at it. The sugarcane juice inside had already solidified.

"Father, it's done!"

Li Xing shouted toward the wall.

Before long, the lean but sturdy Old Li came through the door carrying a large wooden bucket full of yellow clay water.

For ease of operation, the straw plugging the hole at the bottom of the clay cone was tied with a thin grass cord. Li Xing gave the cord a gentle tug, and the straw was pulled free, connecting the cone to the large vat below through the small hole.

Old Li lifted the wooden bucket with one hand, supported the bottom with the other, and slowly poured the yellow clay water into the cone.

A marvelous sight appeared.

As the entire bucket of yellow clay water slowly seeped down into the vat below, it carried away the impurities in the sugarcane juice along with it, and a layer of snow-white sugar emerged before the father and son's eyes.

Li Xing stuck his index finger into the cone, pulled it out, glanced at it, and grinned. "Father, the white sugar is a full three inches thick or more! We'll be able to sell this batch for a good bit more silver!"

Old Li was beaming with joy too. Looking at Li Xing, who was sucking his finger, he said, "The boiling this time was just right! If only we could get this much white sugar every time!"

Li Xing laughed. "Don't worry, Father! This time I paid extra attention — from now on, our family's white sugar yield will be much higher every batch! It's just that each time we boil..."

Old Li hurriedly rushed over and clamped his hand over his son's mouth, dragging him into the room where the sugarcane juice was boiled. Lowering his voice, he said, "You child, where's your sense?! White sugar is valuable goods! If you have a good method, it can become our family's heirloom secret technique! You shouting like that — are you afraid the other families won't hear?"

Li Xing quickly nodded. "Father is right! I'll remember from now on!"

Old Li nodded with satisfaction. "A-Xing, what good method do you have? This matter can only be told to your brother — just the three of us men should know. Not even your sister Lian'er can be told, understand?"

Li Xing caught his father's nervous mood and, after glancing around, whispered: "Father, when boiling the sugarcane juice I watched closely many times. Before, we always used a big fire, but these past few times I tried removing some firewood after the juice came to a boil and switched to a slow simmer. After about half an hour, I splashed several buckets of cold water against the outside of the big pot to cool the juice faster, and in the end we got more frost sugar!"