Upon taking the stage, she spotted an acquaintance. Because of the examiner-examinee relationship, they couldn’t greet each other.
The other party hadn’t seen her for some time, and suddenly encountering her here, he was more startled than she was. His eyeballs moved as she moved, unable to absorb even half a sentence of those rules the ritual official was repeating.
Mo Zi grew annoyed at his staring, so she moved to his table and spoke in an official tone, “Number Eighteen, pay attention to the rules. Anyone who violates them will be immediately disqualified.”
That person—namely Min Song—glanced at her sidelong. Unable to talk back, he could only swallow his anger in silence.
Mo Zi narrowed her eyes as if nearsighted and snorted in an aged manner.
The ritual official finally finished reading the lengthy regulations and introduced Mo Zi to the dozen or so people as follows: “This is the Ship Bureau Inspector Song, a female official personally appointed by His Majesty, and today’s exam question setter for the model-making round. Everyone pay attention—from now on, everything will be decided by Magistrate Song.” Having said this, he hurried down, appearing completely unwilling to stay a moment longer.
Recently, the capital had been abuzz with talk about Mo Zi becoming an official. However, no one had expected they would directly face her themselves. Those of humble origins were fine, but those with more formidable pride made no effort to hide their contempt on their faces.
Right under Mo Zi’s nose, someone muttered, “To have a woman examine us—this truly breaks ancestral rules. Even if we pass, it will only invite ridicule. What rotten luck!”
Mo Zi had always been tolerant. Hearing this, she paid it no mind and proclaimed in a clear voice her opening remarks: “Mo Zi is new to officialdom. Receiving His Majesty’s trust and the high expectations of superiors and colleagues, I dare not disappoint in setting questions for you future Grand Master Artisans. Though I lack experience and in haste had no time to consult past precedents, I shall certainly exert my utmost effort.”
Speaking up to this point, two figures wearing the Will Workshop official robes appeared in her field of vision, walking over at a leisurely pace.
These were the Grand Master Artisans who should have appeared earlier. Generally at the opening, to impress the Emperor, one would speak at great length in praise. Moreover, they were certain Mo Zi would drag out time waiting for them to take the stage—otherwise who would prepare exam questions for her? Therefore, they were unhurried.
“Today’s test is the final round—selecting one from five is truly not easy. I wish everyone success in passing. Now, let us begin with the questions.” Mo Zi smiled and said in a voice the entire audience could hear, “Minister Zheng, please bring up the exam questions.”
The faces of those two Grand Master Artisans who had accepted bribes to make things difficult for Mo Zi changed color. They exchanged glances, not understanding what had happened.
Eunuch Liu loudly conveyed the Emperor’s words: “Magistrate Song, His Majesty asks why the two assistant officials are not present?”
Mo Zi replied, “Your Majesty, the two question officials have been negligent and derelict in their duties. This subject memorializes to deal with them afterward.”
The Emperor said directly, “No need to wait until afterward. I approve Magistrate Song’s memorial now. First strip both men of their Grand Master Artisan titles, and fill their vacancies by selecting two additional candidates from this examination. After the reasons for dereliction of duty are investigated, their punishment will be determined.”
Those two immediately went weak in the knees. They had thought this woman wouldn’t dare do anything to them—who knew she would actually impeach them in front of so many people, and the Emperor would approve the memorial. Thus they hurriedly knelt in the Emperor’s direction, kowtowing and crying out for forgiveness.
Buzzing arose from the various tents—clearly no one had expected such excitement before the examination even began.
At this moment, neither the Emperor nor Mo Zi paid them any attention.
The Ship Bureau Director’s face fell as he said to the Deputy Director, “This woman is extremely cunning—we wasted our efforts on those two for nothing.”
The Deputy Director sighed, “It’s also that those above misjudged this woman’s capabilities. Can’t blame us.”
Now regarding these examination artisans: the youngest was Min Song. The others were mostly in their thirties or forties. The oldest was an elderly man with a graying beard, the roster recording him as fifty-six years old.
Once they passed as Grand Master Artisans, they would be appointed to positions in the Ministry of Works’ Will Workshop and various bureau offices. Those with outstanding results could become Imperial Artisans, directly receiving fifth-rank status. This was the Great Zhou’s century-long tradition—aside from the civil and military examinations, another path to officialdom.
The examination artisans heard that this way, there were two additional slots, so they cared less about Mo Zi being the question official. In the end, titles were personally bestowed by the Emperor—what did it matter who set the questions? If she understood nothing and set easy questions, they would have it even better.
For the first time being directly watched by the Emperor and Great Zhou’s most distinguished personages, Zheng Wen was somewhat flustered even carrying a tray, nearly knocking over the plate when setting it on the table.
Fortunately, Scholar Qi, though his heart was unwilling and reluctant, ultimately lent a hand and steadied the plate.
Mo Zi thought to herself that this person was tough-tongued but soft-hearted. Having finished thinking, she reached out to remove the red cloth from the tray and announced the model-making question.
“Following the model in the plate, within the time limit you must complete two sets. You may not use additional measuring tools—only rely on visual estimation and tactile sense. Each person has only one opportunity to touch the model. Those whose two sets are exactly identical to my model will directly pass this round. Those with one set that doesn’t conform will be submitted to the judges for three days of comprehensive review. Those whose two sets both fail to conform will be eliminated.”
After many people finished viewing the model in the plate, they couldn’t help but laugh, secretly thinking she was indeed a layperson who had set such a simple question. The spectators’ discussion was quite loud—they too seemed to feel it lacked difficulty.
The models were five wheels of uniform size, with evenly distributed small teeth along the rim. Among them, the wheels at the beginning and end had hexagonal holes carved in the round wood, while the middle three had perfectly centered circular holes. They had no coloring nor any superfluous patterns—just bare wood.
Min Song looked at the model, then glanced at Mo Zi, frowning, pursing his lips, and shaking his head slightly—just short of asking her what she meant.
Mo Zi sat in the grand armchair behind the table and casually tapped the corner of her eye with her index finger. As for whether Min Song could understand or not, she couldn’t concern herself with it.
The Director appeared most pleased: “What insight could a woman have? I could rub out those five wheels myself—why would these skilled craftsmen need to lift a finger? These people can carve anything to look like anything. Birds in the sky—the feathers can differ by a single strand. Fish in the water—the scales can simulate real ones. This woman will ultimately make a fool of herself, and even His Majesty won’t be able to speak for her.”
Mo Zi’s Ship Bureau colleagues were all laughing wickedly.
The examination artisans went up one by one to look at the gears. Most people perfunctorily glanced a few times, using their hands to roughly measure one or two before finishing. There were four—including Min Song and the fifty-six-year-old elderly man—who looked more carefully. Once they held the gears in their hands, they were reluctant to put them down, and examined them one by one, not even daring to be careless with the hexagonal holes.
Mo Zi observed this and secretly nodded. This question seemed not difficult, but what it tested was the comprehensive application of eyesight, mental power, manual dexterity, and confidence—an extremely high-precision technical skill, not something that could be done merely by imitating appearances. More than half of this group either lacked confidence or were overconfident and looked down on her too much, to the point that she could almost predict most people would be directly eliminated without even waiting for comprehensive results to come out.
“Finished looking?” She received many impatient gazes, smiled and nodded, then suddenly covered the five gears with cloth. “Then let’s begin.”
Young eunuchs came up and used cloth curtains to separate the examination artisans’ tables one by one. Then, according to the lists they had submitted, they brought tools and lumber. The spectators heard axes and saws clanging and scraping as work began.
What followed was a two-hour wait.
However, the wait wasn’t boring. The Emperor led his ministers on a winter hunt, while the ladies drank tea, chatted, and admired the winter scenery. In her small tent, Mo Zi could hear laughter, music from stringed instruments, and horn sounds. As the question official, to display fairness and impartiality, she couldn’t go anywhere. Zan Jin and Ding Gou had a friendship that grew better through fighting—the two played flying chess together. Little Fatty Zheng and Scholar Qi also played chess, a higher-class game—Go. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to play mahjong, otherwise she could promote it in ancient times so four people could gather around a table. Honestly speaking, apart from shipbuilding, she had contributed almost nothing to this era, especially for women.
Fortunately, she also didn’t like joining crowds. With all the tools ready and the tent full of wood fragrance, she could spend several days and nights playing with wood without feeling tired. She did nothing else but shaved wood into thin rectangular boards. Others saw her as bored, not knowing she was immersed in her own world, quite delighted.
By the way, the planer she made herself was extremely useful. And at this time in Great Zhou, there were no planers yet.
Two hours later, a young eunuch ran into the tent to call her and discovered with shock that beneath this female magistrate’s feet was a thick pile of wood shavings that had completely buried her feet.
“Minister Zheng, Scholar Qi, please trouble yourselves to carry up that thing. Let’s go.” Since she had subordinates, she shouldn’t waste resources. Mo Zi didn’t care whether these two were spies and informants or were themselves unwelcome—in any case, under her command, if they could be used, use them.
Mo Zi pointed to an object that had been placed in the corner earlier, also covered with red cloth.
Zheng Wen lifted one end, Scholar Qi lifted the other.
“Miss Song, what’s inside here?” Zheng Wen asked curiously.
“Props for testing whether they pass or not.” Mo Zi wasn’t being mysterious—even if she explained, Zheng Wen probably wouldn’t understand.
Upon taking the stage, the cloth screens between the examination artisans had all been removed, with two neatly stacked sets of gears placed on each table. In the large tent not far away, the Emperor had already resumed his seat. The air wafted with the fragrance of roasted meat, making her drool. This roasted aroma was so familiar—like the scent of roasted rabbit from the overgrown back courtyard of the Yuan Mansion.
Looking carefully, Yuan Cheng, the Secretariat Director, as well as the Ministers were seated together, laughing and chatting with the Ministry of Works leaders. Looking at the other side’s ladies’ tent, Qiu Sanniang sat in a lower seat beneath Old Madam Xiao, Princess Xiao, and the Side Princess, occasionally casting her casual glances. Old Madam Xiao’s expression was displeased—probably knowing that a maid she had beaten had actually become a female official, she felt unbalanced. In the tent where Xiao Wei was located, she could see Wei Jia, Wu Lian, Qi, and others—could they be called the Crown Prince’s faction? In the center chair indeed sat a young man wearing Crown Prince robes. His appearance could be considered handsome, but with a bored expression and constantly ordering palace maids and eunuchs about with an arrogant manner—it seemed he wasn’t very diligent, nor as gentle as his father.
Mo Zi looked at the tables of each master artisan again. “Is there anyone who didn’t finish both sets in time?”
Someone said, “Isn’t it just carving gears on round wood? If one can’t even do this, why come take the Grand Master Artisan examination? Magistrate Song, I wonder if you’ve ever handled a saw?”
Many people snickered.
“Mm, that’s good then.” Mo Zi didn’t rise to the provocation. With one cloth in each hand, she pulled both off simultaneously.
One plate contained the gears from earlier. The other plate held a long, thick board. The left end of the board had a handle, the right end appeared to have a metal piece, and there was a copper tube covered with small bumps—the two ends quite far apart.
Everyone’s eyes widened, staring at that contraption, not knowing what it was used for.
“This is the device used to test whether the wheels you’ve made are qualified. As long as they can work like my five gears—” Mo Zi rotated the board ninety degrees. The back of the board had five small rods of varying heights.
The artisans watched as she hung her set of wheels onto the small rods, then watched as she turned the handle on the other side. Then, then the copper tube began to rotate, brushing over the comb-like metal piece, and actually played music with tinkling and clanking sounds.
Dumbstruck—the entire arena!