Chapter 42: After the Pure and Esteemed

Shi Manqiang and Ji Xiang had already let out a long breath of relief. Chen Sheng excitedly shook the short cudgel in his hand and shouted, "Let's have the matches!"

Zhao Jin turned back with a wry smile and said, "There are only a dozen or so of us in total, what matches are there to have? Let's just divide up all these snacks and chat while we eat."

Most of the people who came here had already eaten lunch, but a boy's stomach at this age is a bottomless pit — eating some pastries and the like is simply a bonus meal.

Everyone sat around in a circle. The several large portions of pastries gathered together made quite a big pile. Zhao Jin and a few others were indifferent, but Shi Manqiang and his group were all brimming with excitement. Having solved the difficult problem and with such abundant food to eat, it was truly a good thing.

Before they started eating, Zhao Jin spoke up first: "Shitou, wrap up ten pieces first. Your little brother and sister haven't had anything you've won for days now, right?"

Shi Manqiang was taken aback. Zhao Jin said with a smile, "Wrap them up first, or else everyone will sweep them clean!"

The crowd burst into laughter. Shi Manqiang nodded heavily at Zhao Jin and said, "Thank you, Brother Zhao!"

Only then did he take a wrapping cloth and wrap up ten pastries. Zhao Jin knew that Shi Manqiang had a younger brother and sister, and he also knew that people close to Shi Manqiang called him Shitou. He did this precisely to make this friend, and seeing the other's reaction, he knew he had done the right thing.

A dozen or so youths sat around in a pile, with abundant pastries in the middle. Everyone ate and drank with cheerful delight. Because there was no water, from time to time someone would choke, which brought more laughter. Even the younger ones like Mu Shulan and Chen Hong ate with beaming smiles.

"Now that things are settled here, everyone should talk to the people close to you and tell them to come back to the goods yard for the matches!" Zhao Jin proposed while eating, and everyone responded with a roaring agreement.

One tells ten, ten tell a hundred — the goods yard's popularity would surely gather quickly. By this time, the middle-aged man who had come with Wang Zhaojing and the old steward from Chen Sheng's family had already gone back. Thinking again about the two people the young girl had brought, Zhao Jin had a clear idea in his mind: even if he hadn't sought out his own father today, things would still have been easily resolved by noon.

Zhao Jin had brought osmanthus cakes and red bean pastries today. Chen Sheng had brought meat buns. Sun Dalei had sesame flatbread. And what Wang Zhaojing brought were silver-thread rolls stuffed with meat.

After tasting the various foods, everyone unanimously agreed that what Wang Zhaojing brought was the most delicious. Wang Zhaojing couldn't help but boast proudly, "The cook's skill is excellent," which surprised everyone further — it was actually made by his family's own cook.

Wealthy households rarely eat out; they all keep dedicated cooks. But among the youths who came to play at the goods yard, probably only Chen Sheng's family could reach that level. The other few were well-off, true, but ultimately they were still households of modest means.

Competing daily in matches at this goods yard, everyone had merely become familiar with one another. But after yesterday's conflict and today's perfect resolution, the relationships between them suddenly drew much closer. Only now did it feel a bit like friendship.

So even though Wang Zhaojing had been here only a short time, he had participated in these several events, and now no one treated him as an outsider.

With no matches today, everyone ate until they were stuffed and round-bellied, chatting and joking in complete relaxation. They all lived in Xuzhou. After so many days of playing together and inquiring about each other, they had a rough understanding of each other's situations. Coupled with what their parents and elders would also discuss, many were quite familiar with one another. The relatively unfamiliar Wang Zhaojing thus became the center of attention. Moreover, this wealthy young master had returned from the capital, so everyone was very curious, and the questions grew numerous.

"Wang Zhaojing, why did your father stop being an official?"

The moment this person asked, he was poked by the person beside him, who whispered a reminder: "Don't talk nonsense. How can you ask about such things so carelessly?"

These youths were naive, yet not so naive. Through constant exposure, they understood many things and knew what should and shouldn't be said. Of course, there were also those who didn't know this.

The one who had been reminded said very defiantly, "Being an official is so great. Anyone who could would want to..."

Before he finished speaking, Zhao Jin turned his head and glared. This person immediately lowered his head and dared not speak further. Zhao Jin's authority had already been established.

Unexpectedly, these words touched a sensitive spot for Wang Zhaojing. Wang Zhaojing cleared his throat and spoke solemnly: "The reason my father resigned from office and returned home was not because of any flaw in his conduct, but out of regard for friendship and loyalty. When he left the capital, his colleagues and superiors all held banquets to see him off — it was recounted as a fine tale."

This whole speech was delivered in a bookish manner, and everyone else listened in bewilderment. Only Zhao Jin's classical education from years past proved useful; he understood the gist of it. He found it interesting — in officialdom, one always climbs up and never willingly steps down. To give up being an official out of regard for friendship? There must be a hidden story behind it. Seeing that everyone was about to start discussing it, he couldn't help but say with a smile, "These matters are not convenient to ask about. Everyone, let's drop it."

At this, Wang Zhaojing grew even more anxious. To him, Zhao Jin's considerateness only made it seem as if his father's resignation had been unavoidable or due to some scandal. He immediately stood up and explained: "After my father passed the highest imperial examination, he served as a Censor in the Chief Surveillance Bureau. His superiors and colleagues all looked after him greatly. This year, my father had two possible postings, one upward and one downward. Upward, he could go as Superintendent of Schools for the Two Capitals. Downward, he could go as an Inspector of Salt for various regions. Whether pure or mercenary, both were first-rate excellent postings. But my father was unwilling to harm his friendship with his fellow examination graduates over this matter, so out of regard for friendship, he took the initiative to resign and return home..."

This time, even Zhao Jin found much of it incomprehensible. The general idea was that he had voluntarily yielded in a struggle over an official position and thus returned home of his own accord. The other youths listened in alternating shock and awe, finding it all very profound and extraordinary, though they understood none of the specifics.

Zhao Jin, however, knew there was likely more to the story. The fact that Wang Zhaojing could proclaim this so righteously to outsiders probably meant it wasn't a case of offending a superior or falling victim to scheming. But it certainly wasn't out of regard for friendship either — that was merely the face-saving reason for public consumption.

The questions that followed all revolved around Wang Zhaojing. Zhao Jin didn't want everyone to ask too much and make him uncomfortable, so he deliberately steered the questions toward terminology — things like the Chief Surveillance Bureau, and what exactly the Superintendent of Schools and the Salt Inspector were.

But after asking, Zhao Jin was even more confused. According to Wang Zhaojing's explanation, a Censor of the Chief Surveillance Bureau was Rank Seven. Yet those two postings — the so-called upward one, which surely meant a position of higher status, the Censor Superintending the Schools of the Two Capitals, was also Rank Seven. And the Censor Inspecting the Changlu or Lianghuai Salt Fields was also Rank Seven. They were all Rank Seven officials, so what was this about upward and downward?

The topic had already shifted. No one was interested in official ranks; instead, they pestered Wang Zhaojing with questions about the fun things, delicious foods, and rare curiosities of the capital. Zhao Jin thus did not pursue the matter further.

Zhao Jin, unfamiliar with the officialdom of the Ming Dynasty, naturally had no way of knowing the distinctions involved. For Ming officials, the weight of a position and the rank level were only superficial. The finer details contained far too many intricacies. First, capital officials were far superior to local ones. Second, officials of the "pure" track were far superior to "mercenary" officials. Between the two, there were vast differences in both status and prospects for promotion.

For a Rank Seven pure-track official, being sent out of the capital to serve as a Rank Four Prefect would be considered a demotion. And the Censors of the Chief Surveillance Bureau were standard capital officials of the pure track.

Even among Censors, there were further distinctions. Although their ranks were the same, there were divisions of high and low, pure and mercenary. Though all were Rank Seven, the difference was like that between heaven and earth.

The highest, that is, the purest and most esteemed position, was the Superintendent Censor. There was one each for the capital and Nanjing. The Government Students in the two directly administered metropolitan areas were too numerous for all to participate in the Provincial Examinations. Therefore, before the Provincial Examinations, the local Superintendent Censor would tour each prefecture and examine the Government Students of the two metropolitan areas. Only those who passed could participate in the Provincial Examinations.

According to Ming convention, the examinee became the disciple of the examiner, and the examiner became the Grand Master of the examinee. Once such a relationship was established, it laid the foundation for future connections. After serving one term as Superintendent Censor, the next posting would be out of the capital as a Grand Coordinator. Upon returning, one would be at the level of Vice Minister of the Six Ministries — a position considered a reserve candidate for the central government. It was therefore regarded as the purest and most esteemed. Once seated in this position, a direct ascent to the clouds was guaranteed.

Below the Superintendent were the Regional Inspectors, who inspected an entire province and stood as equals to the Grand Coordinator — needless to say more. Next came the Circuit Censors, all of whom were pure-track. Below them were the mercenary officials.

The Salt Inspector Censor that Wang Zhaojing mentioned was the pinnacle of the mercenary officials. So-called mercenary officials were those with no hope of advancement, but whose posts were rich in spoils.

There were four Salt Inspector Censors: one each for Lianghuai, Changlu, Liangzhe, and Hedong. As the saying went, "One term as Salt Inspector, ten generations of wealth." The Ming Dynasty's tax focus lay in the salt monopoly, and the private salt trade was a business of mountains of gold and seas of silver. The Salt Inspector Censor's role in investigating abuses was the most critical, so the salt merchants and salt fields naturally offered generous bribes.

Even the least lucrative post, the Hedong Salt Inspector Censor, would bring in around over a hundred thousand taels of silver in a year. In Lianghuai or Changlu, several hundred thousand a year was a small matter.

Among the Censors of the Chief Surveillance Bureau, those who wanted to advance were naturally willing to become Superintendents. Those who were older and wanted to amass wealth were willing to go as Salt Inspectors.

If Zhao Jin had been familiar with this system, he would have been even more baffled by Wang Zhaojing's account. What kind of background must a Censor have to actually be able to choose between these two positions?

Still, being able to chat this much had broadened Zhao Jin's knowledge considerably.