The first day of examinations ended — and first, the chief examiner received a thorough dressing-down.

This time, Zhù Ying was genuinely and wholeheartedly convinced by Wang Yunhe. She listened to his instruction until very late in the evening, then finally said to him: “A hundred benefits must be secured before the law is changed — this doesn’t refer only to the benefits themselves, does it? It also refers to the people who can gather and channel those hundred benefits. Without enough people, nothing can be accomplished. If a reform cannot benefit enough people, it may as well not happen.” And even if it could succeed, she thought, if I cannot live to see it, it is no use to me — but that part she did not say aloud.

Wang Yunhe said: “Partly so, and partly not. Benefits can be long-term or near-term.”

Zhù Ying said: “Anyone would want both — yet in the end, choices must be made.”

Wang Yunhe nodded: “That has some meaning to it. Think on it more. I have lived this long and am still working it out for myself.”

Zhù Ying gave a deep and respectful bow.

Wang Yunhe said earnestly: “What we have spoken of today — hold it in your mind if you can.”

“I won’t need to write it out from memory,” Zhù Ying said.

Wang Yunhe was finally reduced to helpless exasperation: “No wonder Director Zheng is always driven to distraction by you.”

“Oh? Isn’t he known for his composure?”

Wang Yunhe said: “He is. Most people can’t tell when he’s been driven to distraction.”

Zhù Ying was amused by this, and when her laughter subsided, said: “Director Wang, I still need a note from you.”

It was past midnight again, and she needed a note from Wang Yunhe — in case she couldn’t outrun the night watchmen on the way home and needed to produce it to avoid being arrested.

That day, Zhù Ying felt she had gained a great deal. As she walked, she counted her gains in her mind: the first was the reminder against arrogance; the second was Wang Yunhe’s instruction. Within that instruction, there were several parts: earlier, Wang Yunhe had lectured her on ritual governance; now he had given her history.

More than that, combined with history, he had explained to her the evolution of the court’s structure — at this juncture in history, such-and-such occurred, and therefore this official post was established while that one was abolished, this decree enacted while that one was rescinded. But Zhù Ying preferred to summarize it all as a matter of “money.” Silver and copper and cloth were “money.” People were “money.” Grain was “money.” Physicians were “money.” Medicine was “money.” Land was “money.” Official positions were “money.” Servants and teachers and every other thing… all of it was “money” in some form. There was something that encompassed even more than “money,” yet Zhù Ying — young as she was and unlettered as she acknowledged herself to be — could not think of a more fitting word than “money” to name it.

But that was the gist of it! Everything could be exchanged, and possessing it meant controlling a corresponding quantity of something else — a kind of universal thing. This “money” was most interesting.

Yet in this world, there were also people like Wang Yunhe — it could not all be resolved through “money” alone. Listening only to the hollow “ritual governance” of pedants, or looking at things only through the lens of “money” — neither approach was sufficient on its own.

“No wonder everyone tells me to read the classics and histories!” Zhù Ying muttered to herself. “So this is how they are meant to be read!”

Wang Yunhe and Zheng Xi likely truly understood them. Others might not have comprehended them at all, yet because these men said reading the classics and histories was good, the rest simply repeated the refrain — who knew what they had actually gotten out of it.

She also now understood why she had instinctively grasped the idea of sealed name examination, and why she had immediately sensed the mistake after speaking it aloud. Her instincts were still sound.

“Redistributing money” — she genuinely had the potential to alter the way “money” was redistributed. Every change of dynasty, without exception, was a process of “redistributing money.”

In the idle gossip of common people about high officials, there was sometimes talk of someone profiting at another’s expense — but those conversations focused mostly on personal resentments. Viewed from the perspective of the entire realm, it was, in the end, still “redistribution of money.”

To cut off another’s livelihood is to murder their parents, as the saying goes. Scraping a little money out from under someone’s hands — was it ever truly easy?

No wonder I had to establish a separate female court clerk position! I’m still not foolish, after all — it was to keep the number of those who would oppose it from getting too large…

Yet people begrudge what others have and mock what they lack. Even if you are not taking money from anyone, having more money than they do will still prick many a heart.

Zhù Ying walked on, humming a little tune to herself.

Ha! Today she had understood a little more of the way of things!

Tomorrow when she returned to the examination hall, she must absolutely conduct herself with proper restraint! Director Wang of the Metropolitan Prefecture was truly formidable — and he was not the only formidable person in the world. She had, in truth, been getting a little carried away lately — rather like Zhù Da, who, when facing the difficult demands of a séance performance, needed to drink a little beforehand. Drink too much, and you became unmoored, and the whole performance floated off into vagueness.

She couldn’t afford to get drunk!

When she was nearly home, Zhù Ying stopped humming and gathered her thoughts back together. She made herself reflect: I have always relied on my own cleverness — yet I didn’t realize that at a certain level, a little cleverness is simply not enough. Director Zheng was right: I need to know what to do when natural talent is no longer sufficient.

She had formed a new understanding of herself. Everything below the sixth rank — its workings and its conduct — lay clear before her eyes. From the fifth rank upward, things became genuinely more difficult. At the level of Zheng Xi and Wang Yunhe, there was nothing but mist and cloud around the mountain peaks, and she would need to tuck her tail in and stay close to them, gleaning whatever she could.

By the time she reached home and lay down, she had completed her self-reflection and run through the evening’s conversation with Wang Yunhe from start to finish once more in her mind — then she was asleep.

Early the next morning, Zhù Ying rose early and prepared to report for duty at the Court of Judicial Review.

Though she was the “chief examiner” for this examination — one that appeared to break new ground in history, had provoked considerable debate at court before being approved, and had drawn the attention of numerous senior officials — once the matter was settled, it was simply settled. In the grand scheme of court affairs, it was not really a major event.

She still had to report for duty at the Court of Judicial Review first and could not neglect her ongoing responsibilities. Deputy Directors Yin and Dong were in the same situation. Only after she had cleared most of the Court’s business and reported to Director Zheng could she rush to the examination hall, arriving just in time to announce the start of the second day’s examination.

Since this was the first time an examination had ever been held for female officials, there was no precedent to follow, and most of the procedures had been improvised from the existing format of the male examination system. For both the female court clerk and female constable selections, everything was being worked out on the fly — one session at a time, one lesson at a time. The venue was borrowed; everyone was doing this in the time carved out between other responsibilities.

Zhù Ying had planned to arrive at the Court of Judicial Review early so she could finish her tasks there and reach the Metropolitan Prefecture sooner. What she had not expected was that someone had risen earlier than she had!

She was in the middle of eating when someone knocked at the front gate.

Du Dajie went to open it: “You?”

Zhang Xiangu, holding a rolled flatbread, asked: “Who is it?”

Zhù Ying looked over. Standing in the doorway was a small, dark-complexioned girl. She walked over and saw that the girl’s hair still held tiny drops of the morning’s cold air, and the edges of her shoes were slightly damp. She had been running — her mouth was hanging slightly open as she caught her breath. Zhù Ying said: “Has something happened? Come in and speak.”

The girl sniffled, drew several deep breaths, and leaned against the doorframe: “Barely made it. Little Official Zhù — my mistress sent me to deliver a message.” She glanced around, then said: “Mistress says, don’t be too much of an honest fool! You want to get things done, but there are people looking to take advantage.”

Zhù Ying said: “Come in and sit down, tell me slowly. Have you eaten? Catch your breath and come have a little something. Du Dajie — give her a bowl of lamb soup.”

The girl swallowed, and said: “They were talking at our place — saying… someone is planning — if she passes the examination, she’ll go home and find a good match to marry…”

She watched Zhù Ying with some apprehension, afraid this young official might be angry. Instead, Zhù Ying said in a perfectly amiable tone: “Is that so? Please give my thanks to your mistress for passing the message along. Come — have breakfast.”

Du Dajie said: “I’ll take her to eat in my room, so she’s not uncomfortable.”

The girl hesitated, then steeled herself: “I — I won’t eat, I still need to report back to Mistress.”

Zhù Ying patted her head and said: “Du Dajie, give her a cloth to dry her hair, and take a flatbread with some mutton rolled up in it for her to eat on the way back. The weather’s turned cold — you’ve had a hard time of it.”

“Are you — are you not angry?”

Zhù Ying shook her head. Today she seemed particularly warm-natured. Hua Jie and Zhang Xiangu had already come over, and Zhang Xiangu said: “Oh dear — since you’ve come all this way, at least eat something before you leave.” Hua Jie added: “The soup is already ready.” She also took the food that had been prepared for Zhù Ying, telling her to bring it to the Court and have it reheated there.

These days at the Court of Judicial Review, there was no shortage of people eager to curry favor with Zhù Ying — someone would have extra food prepared for her without being asked. Still, she continued to bring a little herself, so Zhang Xiangu had something to do. She could easily eat it all anyway.

Hua Jie pressed the small food box into her hands and said softly: “This…”

Zhù Ying said: “It’s nothing.”

“Mm.”

Zhang Xiangu had spoken, so the little dark-complexioned girl ate obediently — a bowl of lamb soup, which warmed her to the core and cleared her head. She then said: “My mistress… she’s a person who has left the world…”

“Xiao Jiang,” who had left secular life, still did not have a degree of ordination. After buying her house, her savings were nearly exhausted — she could not afford one. The examination she had prepared for only a few days before, and the Bureau of Daoist Affairs did not hold examinations every day. For now, she dressed in the manner of a female Daoist practitioner — so long as she did not claim outright to be a Daoist priestess, such dress was not in violation of any law.

Her income came from two main sources: rental income from her property, and teaching the pipa, with some introductory instruction on the konghou as well. The rent did not require collecting every day — some tenants had year-long leases, others paid monthly — and she did not go often to that side of the courtyard.

The pipa teaching made for lively days. Her students were all courtesans, among them two very young ones still in training. These women were not the finest of their kind — those received private tutors brought to their establishments. Nor were they the lowest — they were still worth the investment of some instruction in the arts and basic literacy.

Though on the pleasure quarter’s streets they had to perform every manner of pleasing manner, here at Xiao Jiang’s place they could show something closer to their real natures, and often traded jokes. Xiao Jiang was still some distance from being able to afford an ordination certificate, but small snacks she could manage. Seeing that the young girls in training would go without food if their playing fell short, she also gave them hot soup and rice — nothing extravagant, but freshly made, clean, and whole.

The women of the pleasure quarter were fond of her. They had also heard that she and that young Official Zhù seemed to have had some manner of history between them, and their sympathies were with her. The description of Hua Jie as “neither wife nor concubine” had been partly the product of these women’s righteous indignation. They knew that when the name “Young Official Zhù” came up, Jiang Niang appeared unhappy — yet she still wanted to hear. So they would speak of him now and then.

What other diversions were there in the pleasure quarter, after all? They had seen their senior sisters pour their resources into supporting scholars, only to be abandoned without a backward glance. They had seen their sisters buy their freedom and become concubines, only to be rejected by the principal wife. More often still, they had seen their seniors sink into even worse circumstances, or die young.

Jiang Niang was, among all the people they knew, someone who had reached a genuinely good place in life. In her company, it felt for a moment as though they too were living as Jiang Niang lived.

When practice had worn them out, someone would say: “Young Official Zhù really is something remarkable! There’s actually going to be a female official examination — who’s ever heard of that?”

Another would object: “There have always been female officials!”

“You mean the ones who come out to stand at ceremonies and oversee things? Or the ones shut up inside the palace attending on people?”

A small argument would follow, but the conclusion was always that this “female official” was something remarkable.

Then a young girl still in training said: “That said, it might not be entirely a good thing.”

“Nonsense! How could it not be good?”

“Yesterday, there was an old man who had escorted his younger sister all the way to the capital to sit the examination. He said — once she passes, he’ll take her back home to make a good match, so she won’t be looked down upon in her husband’s family.”

“Really? What kind of husband’s family? Isn’t the Court of Judicial Review inside the palace city? Would it be a capital family? And if she’s from out of town, would the husband come to the capital to earn a living? Could he support a whole family on that? She wouldn’t just give up her official position, would she?”

Someone who saw Xiao Jiang’s expression spoke up on her behalf.

The young girl answered seriously: “Really! He said he’d specifically grabbed this task because it was a chance to see the capital — otherwise his father wouldn’t let him come. Wants him to stay home and study. Whether she actually serves in the position or not didn’t much matter, he said. It sounds impressive! Best if she could get herself an official’s robe, go back home, and not actually occupy the Court of Judicial Review’s position or draw an unearned salary — they can just select someone else for it.”

“Well, isn’t that something,” someone couldn’t help but say with envy. “People’s fates are just too different! Some people are born into good families, can study, can sit examinations for office — and passing the examination even helps them make a better marriage!”

The young girl asked Xiao Jiang: “Teacher, why don’t you sit the examination? You can read and write — you’d certainly do better than any of them!” She had been about to say something more, when her older sisters quickly hushed her — heaven forbid she say something like “then you’d be a good match for a certain someone”!

Xiao Jiang’s expression turned genuinely cold. Not wishing to take it out on the child, she said quietly: “Three generations of unstained background, if you please!”

The woman who had started today’s discussion of Young Official Zhù felt a little regret and hastily made a gesture, saying: “What stained and unstained? We’re about the same, when it comes down to it — they’re waiting for the right buyer, and we’re waiting for the right price.”

The women of the pleasure quarter found a rare laugh in their difficult lives, mocking the so-called respectable women.

Xiao Jiang said: “And it isn’t just us and them, either — the officials of this court of the realm — all are visitors to the arena of fame and profit. Who is truly nobler than whom?”

The young girl didn’t quite follow, and said: “Well, a female official is about the same, I suppose.”

Xiao Jiang’s throat felt tight. She said: “No — it is different. All right, have you finished talking? Get back to practice!”

At noon, the women all ate their midday meal at her place, then practiced the pipa for a while in the afternoon before returning to their establishments for the evening’s work. Xiao Jiang had been about to send the small dark-complexioned girl to the Zhù household, when some trouble broke out in the neighboring courtyard — two tenants had come to blows, and she had to go and mediate before anything of hers got damaged. By the time that was sorted out, it was nearly dark.

The next morning she rose before dawn, shook the small dark girl awake, and said: “Leave everything else for now. Go — take a message to Young Official Zhù. Come back and I’ll have something good for you to eat.”

The message was delivered, and Zhù Ying arrived at the Court of Judicial Review.

First came the miscellaneous duties — clearing the previous day’s official business, and reviewing the cases brought for her to countersign by Hu Lian and the others in re-examination. Zhù Ying looked through the files and said to Hu Lian: “Am I imagining things, or have there been more cases lately?”

Hu Lian said: “You’re not imagining it — there have been more! I’ve been thinking it’s likely that someone is up to something again.”

“How so? Surely we can’t have another major case on our hands. That would be too much — that’s not good.”

“It won’t come to that, but it won’t be easy either. How many years have you been an official, Xiao Zhù? Think about it — after the Gong case, many of Gong Jie’s people were finished. Doesn’t that mean someone has to fill those positions? These new people have been in their posts two or three years by now, haven’t they? Sometimes it’s a new official’s enthusiasm to make his mark; but clever ones — they stay quiet at first, watch, and then when they’ve sized everything up, they come in for the bite.”

Zhù Ying said: “That’s all the more reason for the Court of Judicial Review to be on guard! We absolutely cannot let ourselves become anyone else’s weapon.”

Hu Lian thought to himself: The worry is that our Director Zheng might be among those who want to enter the fray.

After countersigning the documents with Hu Lian, Zhù Ying asked casually: “One of these cases involves a female prisoner — is everything all right in the women’s ward?”

Hu Lian smiled: “Well, right now they’re all freezing each other out and avoiding contact. Whether things are good or bad, they’d only know themselves.”

Zhù Ying said: “Let them feel their way through it on their own. Once the prisoner is brought in, we can go and see how the women’s ward is managing, shall we?”

“I expect it won’t just be the two of us wanting to observe the women’s ward at that point.”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Let me get through this business first.”

Hu Lian said: “What’s that? They put the pulse-taking at the end, didn’t they?” He laughed as he said it. “Your sister really is a patient person — if it were my sister, she’d have smacked someone by now!”

Zhù Ying also laughed: “Some things, you only know what can go wrong once you get your hands on them.”

“Fair enough. I won’t disturb you anymore — once you’ve finished this big affair, we’ll celebrate for you!”

“What big affair…” Zhù Ying said. “If it were truly big, it wouldn’t be in my hands.”

The two of them exchanged a few more words, then Zhù Ying pulled over a blank memorial draft and began writing a rough copy. By the time Director Zheng came back from court, her draft was roughly complete. After the regular official business was handled, Zhù Ying brought the draft to show Zheng Xi.

Zheng Xi read it and said: “Abandoning the position?”

Zhù Ying said: “Ordinarily, court procedures already include penalties for candidate officials who refuse to take up their assigned posts — on grounds that the location is too remote, too unstable, or insufficiently prosperous. I was thinking that female court clerks are external officials, not inner-court ladies — they should be governed by the same court regulations as any other official. Some people may be so dazzled by the phrase ‘female official’ as a special category that they overlook the standard ‘common regulations’ entirely. Better to reaffirm those regulations clearly before the appointments are made. Moreover, the current matter is being handled by our Court, and since it’s a first — we’re clearing the path for others. Better to spot the pit ourselves and fill it ourselves, and walk across safely. We can’t fall in ourselves and let others watch and say: ‘Ah, there’s a pit there.'”

Zheng Xi, for some reason he could not quite name, felt a flicker of satisfaction. He said: “Very well.”

It was not a significant matter; there were precedents for it. He told Zhù Ying: “Settle it together with those two Deputy Directors from Personnel and Rites. Can you manage them?”

Zhù Ying said: “I’ll try — it should be all right.”

“Go to the gate — find Lu Chao. Why do you still have no proper carriage or personal attendant?”

Zhù Ying said: “I have Du Dajie to help at home. A male servant — I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. I’m looking into it.”

“Go.”

Zhù Ying went to find Deputy Directors Yin and Dong, then went to find Lu Chao, and rode in Director Zheng’s carriage to the Metropolitan Prefecture examination hall. The two deputy directors thought to themselves: This person, young as she is, really does have some method to her — she has actually earned such favor in the eyes of her superior!

Zhù Ying was increasingly courteous toward the two of them. In the carriage, she explained her intention to reaffirm the regulations regarding abandonment of position. Deputy Directors Yin and Dong furrowed their brows slightly. Deputy Director Yin said: “Quite right! The court does indeed have such provisions. But female officials are officials now — though for ordinary examinations, a candidate sits the examination first and is assigned a post only afterward, so there is no way of knowing in advance what position they may receive, and they might be selective about desirable postings in their hearts. These women chose to come and sit this examination for the position of prison warden specifically — would they really abandon the post after being assigned to it?”

Zhù Ying said: “As a precaution. They haven’t seen a dark cell or a real prison yet.”

“Mm, true enough.”

Deputy Director Dong turned the matter over in his mind at length and concluded that it was not worth disturbing Minister Zhong and inviting another reprimand from him over. He too said: “Sanlang thinks ahead.”

At this point, though, neither of them was eager to be the one to step forward. So they pushed Zhù Ying: “You make the announcement. When should it be done?”

Zhù Ying said: “After they’ve finished writing — they’ve come all this way, after all.”

The second day’s examination arrived. Deputy Directors Yin and Dong were aware of Wang Yunhe’s reputation and felt some admiration for him, while also finding him somewhat intimidating — and so, as before, they couldn’t help retreating to the edges. Zhù Ying simply went back to Wang Yunhe and said: “Would you care to guess why so many people applied? Someone told me something…”

Wang Yunhe did not change expression, and asked: “What do you plan to do about it?”

Zhù Ying said: “For one, this is hearsay — from some dissolute young man who escorted his sister to the capital to take the examination and then spent his time in the pleasure quarter, where he talked freely. His words may not be reliable. So it cannot be pointed at directly, nor should there be any investigation into whose family is involved. Second, even if it is true, this is something we failed to anticipate — it wouldn’t be right to blame anyone for it. And third — a family willing to let a daughter study, a family capable of thinking that a daughter might fare better in her husband’s household with an official title behind her… well, such people cannot really be considered bad people. So — as with the pulse-taking last time — let’s simply change things quietly on our end.”

Wang Yunhe smiled: “Not bad.”

“So… may I?”

Wang Yunhe said: “I am here only as an observer.”

Three days passed, and it was time to see the truth revealed.

Like the constable selection, some of the women dropped out after the first session, some after the first day. The most regrettable cases were those who ran out crying during the final session.

This time, things did not go as smoothly as with the constable selection — candidates who had not sat all sessions were not counted, and their papers could not be included in the final tally. In the end, forty-one complete sets of papers were collected.

Zhù Ying read through all the papers from the candidates who had withdrawn. Her conclusion: let them go — there was no one among them of exceptional talent.

Though her own prose was not especially elegant or polished, she had been exposed to the writings of such figures as Director Zheng, Deputy Director Pei, Director Wang, and Director Liu — she could not lower her standards to manufacture a place for someone who didn’t reach them, regardless of circumstances or misfortune. Those women may have had hardships or unforeseen obstacles — but they were not something Zhù Ying felt it was her place to manage now.

Forty-one sets of papers, three examination days each — it was fortunate that the questions were neither numerous nor difficult, yet even so, the three of them spent ten days reviewing, arguing, and debating before they finished.

Deputy Directors Yin and Dong’s original inclinations remained unchanged throughout: they showed obvious favoritism toward the four women who had official family backgrounds and had persisted to the end. They had finally determined what each of these four women’s situations were. Take Wu Xiang, for example — she was supporting an aged mother, which earned her the distinction of filial piety. Then there was Ji Sanniang: she was a woman promised to a family in which the intended groom had died before the wedding, and she had refused to remarry. With neither the husband’s nor her own family being particularly prosperous, she had come to support herself — which carried the virtue of chastity.

There was also a girl from a merchant family in the provinces, named Chai Yining. She was a second daughter; her family was well-off, which meant she could afford proper tutors, and her clothing and bearing set her somewhat apart from the others. This young woman actually appealed more to the aesthetic sensibilities of Deputy Directors Yin and Dong.

Among the others were women from commoner families — though “commoner” in this case still meant families prosperous enough to afford a daughter’s education. Zhù Ying herself was more drawn to a widow named Cui Jiacheng, because her examination paper was impeccably neat and her answers were genuinely solid.

Since the Court of Judicial Review was the leading office in this selection, it could not ignore the Court’s preferences — whoever Zhù Ying chose had to be given one spot. As for the remaining position, Deputy Directors Yin and Dong were still deliberating.

Zhù Ying said: “There is still something we haven’t told them. Once it’s been said, some may reconsider and decide they’d rather not take the position after all. Why not first rank them in order of merit? Then we select from the ranking as needed. And — there is something that shouldn’t be said too plainly, but — you gentlemen need not be too regretful. After all, the Metropolitan Prefecture still has their own selection coming up, does it not?”

Deputy Directors Yin and Dong both laughed: “Exactly!”

Deputy Director Yin finally recovered a shred of decency from some corner within himself, saying: “I only wonder how this is to be announced. Sanlang, you may find yourself in an awkward position.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “You gentlemen and I will together draft an official document, sign it, and submit it. Nothing else need trouble the two of you — how does that sound?”

Deputy Director Dong immediately said: “Agreed.” The words were barely out before he felt he had answered too hastily, and his face reddened slightly.

Zhù Ying appeared not to notice, and said: “Then let me be bold this once and step forward to take the lead.”

Rather than announcing the rankings directly, they first summoned all the candidates, requiring that everyone — except those without any family at all — appear accompanied by a parent, sibling, or husband, all coming together to the Metropolitan Prefecture venue.

Wang Yunhe still attended in plain dress. He wanted to see how Zhù Ying would handle this.

Zhù Ying exchanged a glance with Deputy Directors Yin and Dong, then stepped forward. She introduced herself first as the chief examiner, then said: “All of you are learned women who have studied widely. You will know the saying: ‘To execute those who were not taught is called cruelty; to demand achievement without prior warning is called violence; to impose sudden deadlines for slow commands is called predatory; to be stingy with what should be given to others is called the way of a petty official.'”

Wang Yunhe gave a nod of approval.

Zhù Ying continued: “Since female officials are without precedent, certain matters must be made clear again. First: every court regulation and law binding upon officials applies equally to female officials. Second: female officials have their own particular circumstances, and therefore His Majesty has directed us to further specify and elaborate additional provisions, which I will now announce once more. Third: the prison wardens of the Court of Judicial Review are, after all, prison wardens — which means they will be overseeing a prison. If any of you believes herself unable to tolerate darkness, or is of too frail a constitution to manage in sparse and confined quarters, I shall spare her the trouble of going through another examination in a black cell and suffering another unnecessary fright!”

Someone in the crowd who was glad to flatter the chief examiner — a prosperous-looking middle-aged man — rose and clasped his hands: “Honored Official, might we know what these regulations and particular provisions are?”

Zhù Ying then recited several provisions governing official conduct, which she knew by heart, and singled out the matter of “abandoning one’s post” for particular emphasis: “Let each of you think clearly: the court establishes official positions not as material for others’ amusement.”

A hush fell below. Some people stayed silent, watching to see how things would develop.

Zhù Ying paused to collect her breath, then spoke again, more directly: “Let me be even clearer. The names, official backgrounds, and registered household information of an official and her paternal three generations are all on file. If any of you has a sudden onset of fear of the dark or any other unforeseen reason to withdraw, you may do so now — I will not record it as a violation of regulations, and I will still provide you with travel expenses for the journey home. There will be no need for you to undergo the trial below, either.

If, however, you proceed through the trial and then change your mind before the official appointment is finalized, bear in mind that your brothers who share a father and who wish to seek official posts will also be required to list their paternal background and family names — and I have them recorded here. The Court of Judicial Review cannot accommodate families who treat such matters as entertainment. If the appointment has already been made and you then find you cannot endure it, your grandfather’s name is also here on file. For those already married: the same applies to your father and husband.

Half a month has passed and all of you should have had a clear enough look by now. This matter is not simply the Court of Judicial Review — the Ministries of Personnel and Rites have both served as official overseers. Consider the weight of my words.

Do not, out of a momentary inability to admit you are afraid of the dark, force yourself to press on when in truth you cannot, only to fail to hold out in the end — thereby wronging both yourself and others.

You have all made it this far through your own ability. Your scholarship and your upbringing are plain for anyone to see — there is no deficiency there. It is simply that what I am selecting for is a prison warden position, which creates a slight mismatch for some of you.

I ask once more: are there those who wish to withdraw?”

Wang Yunhe smiled with evident satisfaction and turned to Fan Shaoji: “What do you think?”

Fan Shaoji said: “Thank heaven Old Liu isn’t here!”

Wang Yunhe laughed all the more.

On the other side, Zhù Ying continued: “The rankings will now be posted. All of you may return today and think it over for one more evening. Those who still wish to come back tomorrow — we will proceed to the black cell and see the truth revealed. Those who wish to return home, please look here.”

She had prepared a pile of copper coins — all freshly minted, strung on bright red cords with a red paper seal tied at each knot, stamped with the Court of Judicial Review’s official seal. Accompanying each string of coins was a red document slip recording the recipient’s name, their examination ranking, and a note stating that due to the limited number of positions available at court, her candidacy had unfortunately come to nothing, to the court’s sincere regret. The name spaces had been left blank.

Upon this announcement, some candidates came forward immediately to collect their red-sealed gifts and leave. As they departed, none of them wore expressions of smug satisfaction — some who had achieved what they had come for still gave Zhù Ying a deep bow of thanks before leaving, and then bowed to Deputy Directors Yin and Dong, and finally to Wang Yunhe.

When the day ended, the majority had chosen to remain.

Several people even said: “We have been ready all along — could we not begin right now?”

Zhù Ying said: “The announcement said tomorrow — therefore tomorrow it is. Everyone, please go home.”

Once the candidates had left, Wang Yunhe asked: “Did the Court of Judicial Review approve all this spending for you?” Deputy Directors Yin and Dong, hearing Wang Yunhe ask about this, stopped their customary slipping away as well — both stayed out of curiosity and said: “Don’t spend too extravagantly — colleagues will talk. You still have to work alongside them.”

Zhù Ying said: “It was all right — I submitted a formal written request, and everyone was accommodating. The funds were approved.” The Court’s reserve funds were something she had generated herself — naturally, she could spend them as she saw fit.

Deputy Directors Yin and Dong both marveled at her “good fortune” and “good relations with people” — and, braving the pressure of lingering before Wang Yunhe, actually waited to leave together with Zhù Ying.

The following day was, for Zhù Ying, a chance to lock people in dark cells and frighten them senseless, then pepper them with harsh questions — exactly the sort of mischief she most enjoyed. More wicked still was that she had each candidate first write in her own hand a pledge: “I have been made aware of the regulations. Should I pass, I will not abandon my position. Should I do so, I accept the consequences.” Each accompanying family member — father, brother, or husband — was also required to sign and press their fingerprint.

She went to report for duty without any particular excitement, and was accosted at the palace gate by a constable captain of the imperial guards: “Young Official Zhù — taking pity on the ladies, I see!” On the road, another acquaintance called out: “Sanlang, almost like a proper gentleman today!” At the Court of Judicial Review itself, people made no effort to be subtle: “Xiao Zhù, you’re a good person!”

Zhù Ying was bewildered: “What is this all about?”

Everyone laughed. No one brought up the matter of the dismissal fees she had paid out.

When Director Zheng came back from court, Pei Qing clapped Zhù Ying on the shoulder and said: “This is the kind of bearing the Court of Judicial Review ought to have.” Leng Yun said: “Oh my — I imagine you’ll be drinking a great many wedding toasts in the future?” Director Zheng simply smiled in his restrained, measured way.

In court circles, the matter of the female court clerks was not large, but it provided rich material for public discussion. Though Zhù Ying’s dispersal of dismissal funds earned some criticism that it lacked gravitas, public sentiment was largely favorable — people said the whole business had been handled rather neatly. Common folk were mostly impressed by the crisp new coins and the handsome document slips. Several sharp-eyed people in court circles saw the genuine goodwill in what had been done. Senior Ministers Chen and Shi both clapped Director Zheng on the shoulder and said he had “found good talent.” Minister Zhong also remarked: “She actually knows how to conduct affairs.”

Zhù Ying’s written requests were routinely approved without fuss — today, they went through with exceptional ease.

Director Zheng waved her off: “Quickly go and finish this up for me! There are still other matters I need you to attend to!”

Zhù Ying said: “It will not delay the Court’s proper business.”

Having been wicked once already, being wicked a second time provoked little reaction from anyone. That day, when Zhù Ying arrived at the venue, she found that of the original forty-one, only thirteen were willing to enter. The rest had their own assorted reasons for their “fear of the dark.” Zhù Ying made no fuss about it — she gave each of them the coins and document slips as before, and told them: “A person’s life is long — don’t brood over this one setback.”

She then promptly locked all thirteen remaining candidates in two groups into the dark cells.

After one round of screaming, there came another.

Zhù Ying felt a little aggrieved — the one she most wanted to test, they wouldn’t let her test…

When the examinations were complete, the rankings were determined. Wu Xiang placed first; the widow Cui Jiacheng, whom Zhù Ying had favored, placed second. There was no suspense in either. Looking at the overall final rankings, Zhù Ying observed, just as Wang Yunhe had said: candidates from more prosperous families had, for the most part, achieved higher scores, while those from more modest backgrounds clustered further down.

The thirteen were then taken to have their pulses taken. Their constitutions were all within acceptable range.

Those who had passed wore expressions of undisguised joy; those who had not managed to maintain composure — they were all watching Wang Yunhe.

Wang Yunhe, observing this, smiled and said: “The Metropolitan Prefecture also needs prison wardens — the vacancies are few, but none of you need lose heart. There is wide sky and open earth before you.” He offered this carefully veiled hint, but was absolutely careful not to say anything so direct as “the system of female prison wardens may be extended to other prefectures throughout the country.” Zhù Ying watched how he conducted himself and gave an inward nod of approval.

When Wang Yunhe had finished, Zhù Ying smiled: “Those of you who wish to wait for the Metropolitan Prefecture’s examination will also need traveling expenses.” The women could not say their hearts held no disappointment — yet a small thread of hope had come alongside it. Two of them refused to accept the money. Having failed to pass, they wanted none of it. Some accepted it and immediately began to cry. Others took it graciously and announced: “Young Official Zhù — we shall one day be colleagues in court together!”

Zhù Ying said: “May it be so.”

Once all was distributed, Zhù Ying turned to Wu Xiang and Cui Jiacheng and said: “Once I have submitted the memorial and the Ministry of Personnel has issued your certificates of appointment, you will be officials of the Court of Judicial Review.”

Both replied simultaneously: “Yes.”

Zhù Ying said: “Though the rank is not high, there are protocols to observe. We’ll address those once the certificates arrive. First, let me tell you a few things you need to know now —”

She laid out the regulations she had established. Wu Xiang and Cui Jiacheng both understood them readily. Zhù Ying then said: “That will do for today.” She also had two strings of cash brought out: “You are not short of funds, but a ninth-rank official may very well be. The Court of Judicial Review has this practice now: once someone joins, they are to be looked after from the start. Take this.”

Both women accepted gracefully, gave a curtsy of thanks, and took their leave.

Zhù Ying expressed her gratitude to Wang Yunhe and bid him farewell. Wang Yunhe said: “Go back and write your memorial. Sanlang…”

“Yes — I will write up the lessons and outcomes from this time and ask for your review.”

Wang Yunhe said with satisfaction: “That is good of you.”

Deputy Directors Yin and Dong were full of admiration: What kind of person is this, who can manage Wang the Metropolitan Prefect so well — and leave him feeling pleased about it?

The two of them, with a shared purpose, retreated to the back and simply added their signatures to the memorial Zhù Ying drafted. She first brought the memorial to Director Zheng for review. Director Zheng said: “Mm — the writing has taken on a bit of proper shape this time. As for the use of classical allusions — well, let that improve gradually.”

Zhù Ying submitted the memorial, and it passed without any obstruction. The Emperor read it and marked his approval. Wu Xiang and Cui Jiacheng’s official appointment certificates were duly issued. Zhù Ying dispatched two female constables to notify each of them at home to collect their certificates, and arranged for officials from the Ministry of Rites to instruct them in court protocol.

Deputy Director Dong of the Ministry of Rites arrived once more!

He was now a familiar face. Upon seeing the two women, he offered his congratulations. Wu Xiang, the young woman he had favored, was the orphaned daughter of an official, only seventeen years old — an official’s orphan deserved some protection. And Cui Jiacheng, chosen by Zhù Ying, was actually even easier to deal with in another way: this woman was a widow, already mother to a son and a daughter, and was thirty years old. Deputy Director Dong found it difficult to behave with anything less than perfect courtesy toward a widow of her standing.

Both women were quite responsive, and showed Deputy Director Dong appropriate deference. He taught quickly; they learned quickly. Before long, their court protocols were mastered, and they could take up their posts.

When the appointment certificates arrived, Wu Xiang — whose father had been an official — went home and told her mother, who took charge of every practical arrangement required of an official’s household. Cui Jiacheng was the mistress of her own home, so Zhù Ying needed to ask nothing further. Protocol completed, both women had sewn their official robes and were fully prepared — waiting only to follow Zhù Ying to begin their duties.

A thoroughly uncomplicated pair.

Zhù Ying brought Hu Lian along for this occasion and smiled: “It’s me again.”

Hu Lian, being a colleague, was happy to talk at greater length, and held forth on the Court’s benefits on Zhù Ying’s behalf, singing her praises lavishly: “This is Deputy Warden Zhù — a young person of great ambition. Xiao Wu, you’re an official’s daughter, you know what life is like in the various offices. The Court of Judicial Review is more comfortable than it has ever been — all thanks to him.”

Wu Xiang thought to herself: From the moment he planned all of this, I knew he was no ordinary person.

On her face, however, she showed nothing, maintaining an expression of modest attentiveness.

Cui Jiacheng, having no officials among her own acquaintances, resolved to observe and assess before drawing any conclusions.

Hu Lian finished his remarks, then accompanied Zhù Ying in taking the two women to pay their respects to the senior officials and meet their colleagues.

Directors Zheng, Leng, and Pei looked over the two women — fair-complexioned, neat in appearance, but by no means transcendent beauties. Cui Jiacheng in particular was a middle-aged widow who had already raised children. All three offered formulaic remarks: “Do not underestimate the duties of a prison warden. There are prisoners arriving soon — you must not disappoint us.”

Both women gave compliant answers.

The two senior Court wardens took one look at the pair — just one look — offered a word of encouragement, and moved on.

As for the other colleagues, they were all outwardly cordial and polite. Having already been informed of the two women’s backgrounds beforehand, they raised no objections. Yet they all shared the same private thought as the three senior officials: Xiao Zhù is a remarkable person — he really didn’t pick any pretty faces to bring in here!

Zhù Ying and Hu Lian finally brought Wu Xiang and Cui Jiacheng to collect their supplies, then had two female constables help carry everything to the cell quarters. The two women would share a room — one bed each, with desk, chair, cabinet, chest, and dressing table provided. Everything had been thought of.

Zhù Ying said: “I have just one thing to say. You are here to do work. As for the Court of Judicial Review — the Directors, myself, Warden Hu — all of us will show you what we are made of in due time.”