Chapter 163
The number of candidates in each of the Five Classics divisions varied. 《The Classic of Rites》 and The 《Spring and Autumn Annals》 were especially long, even their original texts alone were longer than the annotated versions of both 《The Classic of Poetry》 and 《The Classic of History》 combined. Naturally, fewer students chose those two.
《The Classic of Poetry》, on the other hand, had three major advantages: fewer characters, simpler content, and only a single annotated commentary to study. As a result, it attracted the largest number of examinees out of all five divisions–more than a quarter of all candidates were assigned to the Poetry division alone. That made grading this section the heaviest burden of them all.
On September 11th, the seven essays on the Classics had just been fully transcribed into red copies. On the 12th, candidates sat for the second session on edicts, announcements, memorials, and critical judgments. The second session’s papers were only just copied out by the 15th, when the third session’s policy questions on contemporary affairs arrived. And by the 25th, the preliminary results had to be finalized for the draft list; the official ranking would be publicly posted on the 29th.
On average, in just fifteen days, the two examiners had to grade over five hundred complete exam scripts, encompassing three to four thousand essays in total, each essay requiring at least a twenty-character commentary.
And after grading, the scripts still had to be sent to the Chief and Vice Chief examiners for secondary review, ranked jointly with the supervisory officials, and sealed and recorded… There simply wasn’t much time left for reading the papers properly!
Although the outer courtyard officers had already filtered out many unqualified scripts at the transcription stage–eliminating those with formal writing errors, naming taboos, excessive erasures, or those that skipped the draft phase–there were still many papers left. Even so, Liang Chu and Zhang Pu dared not waste a moment, burning the midnight oil just like the examinees.
These three exam sessions weren’t just testing the scholars, they were testing the examiners too. Their eyes blurred and their chests grew tight from reading, and toward the end, they could no longer even tell which essays were good or bad. That’s why, in the provincial examination, the only session that examiners could thoroughly review was the first. And even within that, the essay they evaluated with the greatest care was always the first one–the “When the petty man is idle, he commits evil without limit” question.
The two co-examiners tried to keep their spirits up with some friendly rivalry. As they read, one would joke, “Cui Hezhong has fallen into my hands!” The other would pull out his favorite and reply, “Not so, this essay is so clear and elegant, Hezhong must be mine!”
By the 25th of September, the best and backup essays from all three sessions had finally been selected. Each of the two Classic of Poetry examiners nominated one script for the most outstanding honor and submitted them to Chief Examiner Li Dongyang and Vice Examiner Xie Qian for consideration.
Liang Chu’s chosen essay had been praised as “elevated in tone, vigorous in style, rich in reasoning and complete in spirit.” Zhang Pu’s pick, by contrast, was called “thoughts clear as a washed moon, brushstrokes soaring through the clouds.” Judging by the comments alone, Zhang Pu’s pick had the upper hand.
But Liang Chu, being a seasoned palace graduate, a chuanlu1, was no amateur when it came to flattering prose. Upon hearing Zhang Pu’s lofty commentary, he turned to the two chief examiners and said, “Since when do we select winners just by reading the comments? I could easily write ‘soaring brushwork with heroic energy unmatched’ for mine too! Didn’t Boying-xiong from the 《Classic of Changes》 division have an essay described as ‘a talent to govern heaven and earth, a pen that could overturn the seas’? Is that necessarily better than mine? It all depends on where one places the emphasis when commenting.”
Yang Jie, also known as Yang Boying, and a fellow examiner from the Changes division gave a mild cough and said, “You two can argue over your essays all you like, don’t drag me into it. The essay I nominated is indeed thorough, refined, and graceful. A worthy composition in every respect.”
He then recited aloud: “The difference between a petty man and a gentleman lies chiefly in their conduct. But I say, if a petty man is content to remain a petty man, then his conduct is already in error; and if he refuses to admit he is a petty man, then his conduct is doubly false.”
When he finished reading that line, he turned to the two Poetry Division examiners, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and let out a long sigh.
“The distinction between a petty man and a gentleman can only be truly seen through their conduct. What a petty man does may be false or deceitful–the more skilled he is at hiding it, the more he does wrong. Outsiders may see through his misconduct as clearly as fire through paper, yet he himself, blinded by self-deception, believes he can fool others. In the end, his behavior deteriorates beyond redemption. These lines are written with such precision and force–it feels like climbing a western peak, invigorating and refreshing!”
Li Dongyang smiled.
“That passage hasn’t even fully unfolded yet, and already its final comparison, describing the petty man as fearing that a gentleman might discover his faults, unaware that the gentleman already sees through him–reveals a writing style that’s elegant and mature, with lingering resonance beyond the text itself. As expected, this is indeed a composition of rich learning and skill. Since Boying-xiong has recommended it, even without the backing of the examiners, it would still rank near the top.”
Vice Chief Examiner Xie Qian, who was in charge of compiling the ranking list, immediately ordered the red and black copies of this uncontested piece from the Changes division to be brought forth. Two paper readers read it aloud simultaneously. After confirming that there were no discrepancies, he placed the paper atop the stack intended for the Five Classics First Honor (jingkui). He then turned to the two Poetry Division examiners and said:
“Since the two of you can’t settle on one or the other, let’s have the Chief Examiner, Master of the Western Waters, make the final decision.”
Each of the two essays had its strengths. The real dilemma for the examiners wasn’t just about which was better–but also which one was written by Cui Xie.
Since Li Dongyang was Cui’s teacher, he had to avoid favoritism. He couldn’t allow his own student’s essay to be ranked at the very top. In fact, propriety required him to suppress it slightly and keep it out of the Five Classics First Honor title contention.
But ultimately, the provincial exam wasn’t like the metropolitan exam , where rankings were divided into three degrees. As long as one’s name appeared on the Laurel List, even being ranked 135th was just as valuable as being ranked 6th–both were equally entitled to the honor of Juren (provincial graduate).
Liang Chu said with confidence: “Hezhong’s essay must be in my hands. Just look at how uniquely he approached the opening line.”
Like Yang Jie before him, he read aloud in a measured voice: “To present the petty man as doing evil, while cleverly covering it up.”
Then he offered his commentary: “This line is particularly striking. The original prompt, ‘When a petty man is idle, he does evil,’ is like painting fine features–it carefully depicts how a petty man hides his evil and displays what seems good. The use of the word ‘present’ (zhuang) to echo the original prompt’s visual style of sketching character–isn’t that ingenious?”
A few nearby co-examiners nodded in agreement. “Well, he is someone who paints–it’s only natural that he’d use such expressions.”
Zhang Pu countered: “I’ve read Cui Hezhong’s writing before. His usual style is plain and concise, favoring clarity of logic over florid diction. He doesn’t necessarily try to be novel in his openings. Look at this line: ‘One who deceives himself tries also to deceive the gentleman, such is the duplicity of the petty man.’ It directly addresses the topic. Then it continues with, ‘Now, the petty man does not lack knowledge of good and evil,’ which pinpoints the essence of a petty man knowingly committing evil. Is that not also the work of someone who knows how to deliver a piercing insight?”
Then a fellow examiner from the Rites Division, Wang Xiang, added: “I beg to differ. That opening is a bit too commonplace. We had a similar opening in the Rites division, only three characters different: ‘The petty man’s concealment is skillful indeed.’ But to use ‘duplicity of intent’ instead of ‘skill in concealment’–I find the former far more refined.”
However, that essay didn’t point out that the petty man does know good from evil–it simply restated the original prompt in a more generic way and thus wasn’t as brilliant.
Zhang Pu said, “Its opening may be plain, but the follow-up strikes right at the heart of the matter. Liang-xiong’s essay only says that a petty man acts wrongly when no gentleman is present, and restrains himself when one is–but my essay directly states that the petty man isn’t ignorant of good and evil, he merely uses self-deception. That one sentence already elevates the essay above the rest.”
Liang Chu argued back, “No, no–look at this line in my essay. His introductory phrase begins with ‘how so,’ doesn’t that match Cui Hezhong’s style? And this sentence: ‘His evil knows no bounds; it is only because he hasn’t yet encountered a gentleman!’–what biting satire! That’s entirely in line with how he approaches exam questions!”
Zhang Pu immediately objected, “You can’t judge just by the opening lines. The essence of a composition lies in its paired phrases. Look at these couplets: ‘To sigh in darkness is the petty man’s former state; To strike the air of virtue is the petty man’s altered face.’ How perfectly balanced, how sharply argued!”
As the two of them argued, they’d already forgotten whether they were debating which essay was better, or which one belonged to Cui Xie. Each had their points, and the difference in quality between the essays was paper-thin. Their commentary grew increasingly clever and inventive, and the six other fellow examiners, entertained by their debate, looked as if they were one step away from pulling out silver to place bets.
Meanwhile, the two paper-readers stood out in the corridor, yawning repeatedly, glancing at each other in silent complaint. “These examiners just won’t consider us.” They had to remain standing until the rough rankings were filled out!
The Chief and Vice examiners were beginning to lose patience too–especially Chief Examiner Li Dongyang, whose face was starting to flush. The essays they were praising so enthusiastically might very well belong to his student, and hearing them go on like this was making him increasingly uncomfortable.
At last, he took both essays and laid them side by side for comparison.
At the end of Liang Chu’s essay was a comment written in blue: “Winding yet on point; profound and vigorous.” At the end of Zhang Pu’s essay:“Clear as open sky; solitary and masterful.” Both were effusive, the kind of praise he would never use lightly in his own comments for students.
Still, even these weren’t the most excessive, he had seen remarks like “talent to govern heaven and earth, pen to overturn seas and rivers,” and had written ones like “wearing robes of rank, bearing the bones of immortals” himself.
Li Dongyang gave a dry cough, pushed aside the flowery comments, and began to carefully read the actual text.
Vice Examiner Xie Qian sat beside him, skimming more quickly and finishing both essays before Li Dongyang. He said thoughtfully,“One has dense strength; the other’s force leaps off the page. Both could justly be ranked first in the Five Classics Divisions. But which one is Cui Hezhong’s? I’ve seen his archived essays from the Imperial College. If memory serves, his style was more archaic and jagged–neither of these quite match.”
Li Dongyang ran his fingers along the paper, eyes resting on the red characters and blue circles that marked the page, then nodded decisively: “It’s this one. Back when he was at the Imperial College, he wrote freely, imitating ancient styles. But now he’s imitating me, and his writing has taken on a fresh, graceful brilliance.”
He held up the scroll and called out to the record officer: “Place this one at eighth place.”
Each of the eight examiners had the right to recommend one paper. Unless there was a discrepancy between the red and black copies, the top eight essays were drawn from these recommended submissions. If any were invalid or flawed, the examiners had to provide backup papers.
Cui Xie’s essay had been put forward by his division’s examiner. Though it had to be modestly held back from the top, since it was formally recommended and Li Dongyang had no conflict of conscience, assigning it eighth place was more than sufficient.
Xie Qian looked regretfully at the red copy of the essay as it was taken away and let out a soft sigh.
“Had this not been the current exam, or had it not been the Shuntian Prefecture’s provincial exam, this essay would’ve easily ranked within the top five.”
Though the essay selected by Liang Chu was also pure and elegant, it lacked the heroic vigor that emanated between the lines of Cui Xie’s essay. Cui Xie’s argumentation struck like a string of arrows, each hitting the mark in seamless succession.
All eight co-examiners were eagerly watching from below, trying to see which essay belonged to Cui Xie. The chief and deputy examiners, however, said nothing, until at last, the voice of the paper reader rang out and resolved their curiosity completely:
“Those who deceive themselves only to deceive the gentleman–how deceitful the petty man’s intentions truly are!”
How could it be this one?! Liang Chu stared in disbelief: “That opening was so unremarkable, and the parallel lines were winding and subtle, not at all Cui Xie’s usual style. How could I have guessed wrong?”
Zhang Pu smiled modestly. “The one you selected is certainly a true talent, but when it comes to characterization, it doesn’t hold a candle to Hezhong’s essay. Just look at the third and fourth sets of parallel lines:
‘At first, he feels shame for his evil;
Then he regrets his evil;
In the end, he reforms his evil.
At first, he begins to draw forth the good;
Then he fully returns to the good;
In the end, he clings steadfastly to the good.’
Such a detailed portrayal of how the petty man, upon encountering a gentleman, deliberately tries to conceal his faults and instead display virtue on the surface, isn’t it as vivid and lifelike as one of his painted beauties?
In terms of discerning talent, Zhang Pu had the better eye. In terms of luck, he also came out on top. This promising and elegant disciple of Academician Li would soon have to call him “teacher” as well.
He nodded politely to the other co-examiners, then turned to Chief Examiner Li Dongyang and offered congratulations: “Congratulations, da-ren.”
Li-da-ren returned the smile and nod, sharing in the joy of his student’s success. He also instructed the paper reader to take Liang Chu’s selected essay for a comparison reading, so it could still be slotted into the top five.
Once the preliminary rankings had been filled in by the inner-court examiners, they were reviewed by the proctor, supervising officers, and the Chief Examiner together. The red and black copies of the essays were compared to ensure consistency. If there were any discrepancies or missing texts, those entries were removed, and the final list of 135 successful juren was confirmed.
Co-examiner Liang still felt he couldn’t possibly have misjudged it. He watched with his own eyes as the supervising officer tore off the slips for the eighth-ranked paper. sure enough, it was Cui Xie. And the third-ranked paper looked familiar too, it belonged to none other than Ou Zheng, a former child prodigy once appointed Hanlin scholar under the recommendation of the court.
Though that youth had never studied directly under him, they’d shared the role as editors of Hanlin Academy at one time, and Liang Chu had read his writing before. But now, the once-young prodigy was already thirty-three years old. Naturally, his writing had grown refined and seasoned…
Tch. He had no one to blame but himself for playing the role of teacher too often. He’d read too many essays, if only he’d been more like Zhang Pu, who kept his reading lighter, he wouldn’t have misjudged!
With a sigh of regret, Division Examiner Liang Chu left the grading hall, changed his clothes, and went to enjoy the feast marking the end of the inner-court grading. This was the last banquet. He absolutely had to eat heartily to make up for the past days of toil!
On the 29th of the eighth lunar month, the final results were arranged. Then, on the 2nd day of the ninth month—the day of jiachen—the official laurel list, the honor roll, was posted outside the provincial examination compound. The examinees had long awaited this moment, crowding the announcement board so tightly there wasn’t even room to turn sideways.
Cui Xie, who had a teacher inside the hall, wasn’t just there to check the results, he also had to check in on his teacher from beyond the wall. Naturally, he was more eager than anyone else.
The moment curfew lifted that morning, he flew out the door on two legs and sprinted toward the exam hall, eager to await the list’s posting.
Footnotes:
- Chuanlu: Chuanlu 傳臚” refers to the list leader among the second- and third-rank graduates of the palace examination in imperial China’s civil service examination system. The palace examination (殿試 dianshi) was the final stage of the multi-tiered imperial examination system, personally overseen by the emperor. After this exam, candidates were divided into three ranks:
Yijia 一甲 (First Rank): Only three people, including the zhuangyuan (狀元, first place), bangyan (榜眼, second), and tanhua (探花, third).
Erjia 二甲 (Second Rank) and Sanjia 三甲 (Third Rank): These were much larger groups and made up the majority of jinshi (進士) graduates.
Among the erjia and sanjia (2nd and 3rd rank), the top scorer was often called the chuanlu (傳臚) — literally “announcing the names.” The term comes from the traditional ritual of formally proclaiming the results of the palace examination, often with drums, music, and public announcement in the capital. The chuanlu had the honor of being the first name called out after the top three ranked scholars.
TLDR: Chuanlu (傳臚) was an honorary title given to the highest-ranking graduate among those who didn’t place in the top three of the palace examination (i.e., the best of the rest). It reflects both their academic excellence and their prominence during the ceremonial announcement of exam results ↩︎
Author’s Notes/Comments:
I changed the result a few times and wasn’t satisfied—eighth place just feels better, so I changed it back!
Historical Reference:
- Cui Xie’s essay is based on Daoguang Year Bingshen (1836), 2nd place: Cai Zhenwu
- Liang Chu’s pick was Daoguang Bingshen, 31st place: Chen Zhaoting
- The essay roasted by Wang Xiang was 33rd place: Wei Fengjia
An especially legendary comment to note down:
“Talent to lift heaven and earth, pen to overturn seas and rivers; thoughts that peel away layers like banana skins, momentum that soars like clouds; meticulous in form, precise in argument, combining elegance and clarity in rhyme and prose alike—truly a sign of a scholar who has refined the classics of the Three Dynasties and distilled them ninefold!”
TN: Hi everyone!! Sorry for the late posting, I don’t know why I keep forgetting to post on Sundays. Hope everyone is doing well ❤
Announcement: We have set up a kofi and patreon account! If you would like to support us or get early access to advance chapters for Blood-Sucking Empress OR TMD OR my new novel, those options are available for you (in support us page)! I have just added a patreon tier for Transmigrating to the Ming Dynasty’s Imperial Examinations in which patreons can have access to a google document with ALL of my advanced translated chapters for the novel. Since I am a grad student, there should usually be at least 10 advance chapters in the document at a time, but depending on my schedules, there may be fewer or more. I’m currently extremely busy, but I have translated out some new chapters for you all! But, I will still post each week with the same schedule. Thanks!
Twin Dragons Translations 
Thank You for the new chapter ♡(ӦｖӦ｡)
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