The fourth day of the second month. Young students undaunted by the spring chill, up from first cockcrow when the window lightened to begin their reading.

The early morning hours were when memorization came most swiftly.

Pei Shaohuai’s memory was reasonably good, though it did not match his younger brother’s ability to “recite blindly after reading aloud a few times.” And so, every day at the first pale light of dawn, he would rise, light the lamp, and recite the classics aloud.

Over time, this had become a habit — and even though the county examination was the very next day, Pei Shaohuai did not let up.

Chang Zhou, who slept in the adjoining room, heard the sounds and quickly rose, bringing his young master warm water to wash his hands and face, saying, “Since the examination hall test is tomorrow, I thought surely Young Master would sleep in a little longer.”

Pei Shaohuai finished washing up and replied, “Since the county test is not today, it is no different from any other day. One must not use it as an excuse for laziness — give in once, and you will give in again.”

With that, he had already picked up the collection of model essays his teacher had given him and settled into reading it with full concentration. Not to memorize — but to find the inspiration and proper frame of mind for writing.

After breakfast, Ying Jie’er and Zhu Jie’er each sent one precisely crafted hand warmer to their two younger brothers. Ying Jie’er said, “The spring dampness is cold, and the wind inside the examination hall is strong. Take these warmers with you — fill them with silver frost charcoal and they’ll keep you nice and warm.”

Then she pointed to the elegantly crafted cloth covers over the warmers and said, “You both know I do not have such skill with needlework — these covers were sewn stitch by stitch by Elder Sister Zhu herself. They fit the warmers perfectly, and when held in the hands, they give off warmth without becoming too hot.”

“Don’t listen to her modesty,” Zhu Jie’er stepped forward and said. “She was the one who went to countless shops before finding these particular warmers. The silver frost charcoal was also something she traded for with scented goods from the fifth young miss of Duke Cao’s household. I did nothing more than help with the sewing.”

Both brothers immediately offered their thanks.

Pei Shaojin said, “Fourth Elder Sister is so thoughtful — sweet tea in summer, and hand warmers in spring and winter.”

The following day, neither Ying Jie’er nor Zhu Jie’er would be able to accompany the carriage to the examination hall. So they said their words of encouragement now, hoping the brothers would perform well and have their names on the top of the list.

That afternoon, Lian Jie’er also paid a visit to the Earl’s household. Lin Shi came out to greet her and said, “The two boys have prepared everything they need — you manage such a great load of affairs at the Xu household. Why make this trip?”

“The two younger brothers sitting the county examination is an important matter,” Lian Jie’er replied. “I only got away once things were settled on the Xu family’s eldest’s end. And Yancheng sent a message too — he said he hasn’t been able to see his two young uncles for a day and misses them terribly.” Although Xu Yancheng was older than Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin by a year, he was a generation their junior.

Lin Shi let out a laugh, saying, “Those three get along so well together.”

Lian Jie’er thought for a moment and said helpfully, “Lan’er’s child is still so young, and her husband is away, so she likely cannot come today.”

“She has been thinking of them too,” Lin Shi replied. “Lan’er’s nanny was here just a little while ago, saying they’ll come together once her husband gets back to pay their congratulations.”

Pei Bingyuan was swamped with official duties and could not come home, but he had written a letter early on to encourage his two sons to answer with steadiness and composure. The Old Madam had been reciting sutras and praying for weeks beforehand, hoping that both grandsons’ examinations would go smoothly and bring glory to the Pei family.

In short, the entire family placed great importance on the boys’ county examination. The family’s reverence for the examination path was plain for all to see.

And because Master Duan had said that the three young students had more than enough learning to pass the county examination smoothly, the family waited with great anticipation.

……

That night, in the fourth watch of the night, the night watchmen made their rounds calling out the hour, adding three extra strikes of the gong, crying out: “All those sitting the county examination — set off early.” This was to remind candidates who lived far from the examination hall not to delay.

Before long, one could also hear the county office fire the first cannon — resonating through the night like a sudden clap of thunder — giving the signal to depart, so that candidates living at a distance would not linger further.

At the Jingchuan Earl’s household.

After a full inventory of all the necessary items, the carriage set off. Old Master Pei personally escorted his two grandsons to the examination.

Inside the carriage, Jin Ge’er was a little younger, and facing his first major examination, he appeared somewhat nervous. “Elder Brother,” he said, “I feel a little nervous.”

Pei Shaohuai knew that the county examination was no more than the “entry-level” test of the imperial examination path, and that it could not possibly be difficult. He asked a question to which he already knew the answer: “Do you have all of the Four Books and Five Classics memorized?”

“Yes.”

“The essays the teacher went through with us — the techniques for opening the topic — do you remember all of those?”

Pei Shaojin nodded. “I remember them all.”

“And the five-syllable regulated verse you prepared these past few days — the four rhymes, six rhymes, eight rhymes, the rhyming feet — you’ve memorized those too?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Then there is nothing to be nervous about,” Pei Shaohuai said. “It is only these things they’re testing. You’ve memorized all of them — is it not then just the same as writing an essay on any ordinary day?”

Having listened to his elder brother speak, Pei Shaojin was indeed no longer as nervous. The restlessness in his heart slowly settled.

……

The county examination hall was located in the southeastern corner of the eastern part of the city — enclosed by tall walls with flagstones paving the ground, a most imposing sight. Being under the very shadow of the imperial city, its standard was not to be outdone even by the grand examination hall used for the metropolitan examination.

The sky was still dark, yet the long street leading to the examination hall blazed with lamplight. Carriages from one household after another arrived in an unbroken stream — all of them sending younger generations to sit the examination. The candidates’ ages varied, mostly between twelve and seventeen or eighteen, and most were dressed in fine clothing.

Here and there one could also see scholars from humble households making their way in groups of three or five on foot.

The carriage was stopped half a li from the examination hall. The brothers descended, shouldered their bundles, and very soon spotted Xu Yancheng. The three young students set off together toward the examination hall, and had not gone halfway when a voice called out from behind: “Little Brother Yancheng! Little Brother Yancheng!” Turning around, they saw a young man of twelve or thirteen — dressed in clothes that bespoke wealth and status — whose family they could not immediately place.

Xu Yancheng knew who it was. Though the “little brother, little brother” rang in his ears with some irritation, he kept it to himself, turned with a smile, and said, “Brother Qingyuan, it has been a while.”

The young man looked Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin up and down, and asked, “Who are these two?”

Xu Yancheng replied, “Two fellow students of mine.” He made no mention of the marriage connection between the Pei and Xu households.

The young man’s expression darkened slightly. He asked again, “Both studying under Master Duan?”

“That is correct.”

After a few more pleasantries, the young man said, “My study companion for the group pledge has arrived — I must go.”

The three young students continued on their way. As they walked, Xu Yancheng explained quietly, “That was Zhan Qingyuan. His grandfather holds a post in the Ministry of Rites and has dealings with my grandfather — that is how I know him.” He then added, “Because of that connection, he once sought to study under Master Duan, and was refused.”

Pei Shaohuai understood now why the young man’s expression had darkened, and asked, “Why was he refused?”

“His scholarship is actually quite decent,” Xu Yancheng said. “But Teacher did not care for the way he used his learning as capital — always measuring himself against others. There may have been other reasons as well, though I don’t know all of them.”

They talked about a few other things and quickly forgot the matter, giving it no further thought.

The three of them waited for the other two young men in their pledge group to arrive, then made their way to the examination hall entrance to wait in line for entry. When their turn came, they each presented their admission passes in sequence, removed their bundles, and submitted to a thorough search by the yamen runners — no laxness permitted.

Once everything was confirmed to be in order, the yamen runner at the entrance called out in a loud voice: “Pei Shaohuai, Pei Shaojin, Xu Yancheng… Five in a pledge group, search completed, you may enter.”

To the right-front of the entry passage was a raised platform, where the licensed licentiates of Wanping County were seated. The moment the three young students entered, a thin elderly man on the platform rose to his feet, studied the young students intently, and then called out, “Licensed licentiate Wu Han — I vouch for them!”

This was the act of “calling the guarantee” — the yamen runner conducted the search; the licentiate responded in confirmation.

The three young students were at last successfully entered the hall, found their assigned seats, and settled in. After briefly putting their things in order, they set out the items they would need on the desktop. The sky was just barely brightening, and it being the early morning of an early spring day, sitting still without moving made the cold seep even further into hands and feet. Pei Shaohuai lit the silver frost charcoal and cradled the hand warmer against his chest — and indeed, it was considerably warmer.

He looked up and saw the highest authority of the county — the county magistrate, Shen Zhixian — in his thirties, seated on the platform with a stern expression, surveying the entire hall.

Pei Shaohuai had heard from his brother-in-law Xu Zhan about this man: he had been the third-ranked candidate in the Palace Examination in the nineteenth year of Chengshun — a first-rank Presented Scholar. He had subsequently entered the Hanlin Academy as a seventh-rank compiler. During his tenure, he had earned a fine reputation at court, and the previous year had been transferred to this post as a sixth-rank county magistrate.

To hold the office of county magistrate in Wanping at such an age, with such a bright future ahead of him — one had only to serve out a full term without incident, and he would certainly be recalled to court and entrusted with a position of greater importance.

His immediate predecessor had followed that same path.

……

This day was the first round of the county examination — the principal session — and the most important of the five rounds. The subsequent sessions were called the first review, second review, and final review. Each session lasted one day: testing began at dawn and the papers were collected at dusk, with no candles permitted for writing after dark. Two or three days later, the results would be posted publicly, and those who passed would go on to sit the next session, continuing in this manner.

All questions were set by Shen Zhixian.

……

By now the sky had fully brightened. All candidates were in their seats, and the examination hall fell completely silent. A gong struck once, and the assistant examiners distributed the answer sheets. The examination had begun.

The answer sheets bore no questions — the questions would be announced by runners carrying boards and circulating through the hall.

Pei Shaohuai knew that this day would have three questions in total — the first set consisted of two questions, calling for two eight-legged essays based on passages from the Four Books. The second question was a single one: based on the thematic image given in the prompt, to compose a regulated verse in five-syllable lines.[1]

The volume was not excessive. According to Master Duan’s usual standards, it could all be done within half a day.

The boards quickly circulated to Pei Shaohuai’s position. He saw written on them:

First question: Without the square and compass.

Second question: Nine reflections of the gentleman.

Pei Shaohuai copied both down onto his draft paper, and thought that these two questions were reasonably straightforward — appropriate in difficulty for young students.

He began to consider how to open his response. The first question came from the Mencius, in the passage: “Even with the keen sight of Li Lou and the skill of Gongshu Ban, without the compass and the square, one cannot make perfect circles and squares”[2] — it concerned the necessity of keeping to rules and proper conduct. Naturally there was nothing especially novel one could write about such a topic; if one wished to write better than others, the effort would have to go into the craft of the language itself and the appropriateness of classical allusions.

On his draft paper, Pei Shaohuai opened the essay with: “Even an ordinary person has not the clear sight nor the cunning skill — how then could such a person do without rules and proper conduct?” Even men as gifted as Li Lou and Gongshu Ban had to abide by the compass and square — how much more must an ordinary person, lacking their perception and ingenious skill, rely on the rules?

Having established the opening, the parallel pairs that followed — the first set, the middle set, the closing set — all had to be balanced in structure and carefully weighed in every phrase and word, and this section took Pei Shaohuai somewhat more time.

In truth, the county examination was only a “stepping stone” into the imperial examination system. Although it nominally required eight-legged essays, in practice many young candidates lacked sufficient command of the brush to keep the full eight legs tidy and formal throughout. The chief examiner, when marking and selecting candidates, would account for this — and so, as long as a candidate’s essay showed the rough shape of the eight-legged form and maintained reasonably fluent phrasing, most would pass the principal session and gain eligibility for the prefecture examination.

Pei Shaohuai, of course, was not going to let such a low bar be the limit of his own expectations.

Having completed one draft, he counted the characters — just over three hundred, an appropriate length. He then turned to composing the second essay, keeping both pieces under seven hundred characters combined.

By this time, the regulated verse question had also been circulated. He saw that it read: Yellow flowers like scattered gold.[3]

Pei Shaohuai’s heart gave a little start — was this not the very verse that Master Duan had explained to the three of them on the spot last spring, when he had taken them on a countryside outing and they had come upon a vast field of rapeseed flowers in bloom? Because the flowers stretched on in a carpet like a sea, with waves rising in the wind — truly like scattered gold — it had stayed vividly in his memory.

Surely Pei Shaojin and Xu Yancheng felt the same way upon seeing it.

For candidates who took “yellow flowers” to mean the golden chrysanthemums of autumn, or as a poetic image of a woman before a mirror, they would be writing off-topic entirely.

In the examination hall, Pei Shaohuai realized that every small detail Master Duan had taught them in daily life had carried purpose within it. He also understood then that succeeding in the imperial examinations was far from a matter of rote memorization and dead reading.

Having finished both eight-legged essays, Pei Shaohuai began to consider the five-syllable regulated verse. He sat in thought for a while, then put brush to paper, revising several times, and when he was done, the draft read:

Small blossoms need no crimson bloom beside them — a single stem counts for little against a field in full flower. No need for beauty so great it topples dynasties — it is enough that spring has come, even to the countryside.

Title: “Yellow Flowers.”[4]

With this, all three questions had been drafted. Only the fair copy onto the answer sheet remained. It was now the noon hour, and time for the midday meal. Pei Shaohuai cleared his desk, drew his food parcel and tea from his bundle, and began unhurriedly to fill his stomach.

After all, transcribing a fair copy also took a certain physical effort — one could not do it on an empty stomach.

After eating his fill, Pei Shaohuai exercised his wrist, and, having gauged the approximate dimensions needed, began carefully transcribing his essay, stroke by measured stroke. He wrote with extreme care, striving to make each character neat and handsome. For an examination of the county level — not especially difficult — only by bringing every step to its fullest perfection could one stand out from the rest.

The yard was inclining toward afternoon and the sun was moving toward dusk, reaching the early afternoon hour — time for the first release, when the chief examiner broke the seal on the examination hall gates and let out the first group of candidates who had finished early through the north gate. From a distance, Pei Shaohuai spotted Xu Yancheng’s figure among that group.

He had just finished transcribing his answer paper, and his bundle was not yet repacked — he had missed the first release. Rather than rushing, Pei Shaohuai took his time reviewing the answer sheet once more, then slowly tidied up, and waited for the second release half an hour later to submit his paper and leave.

……

……

Outside the examination hall, Xu Yancheng, seeing that his two fellow students had not yet emerged, found a stone slab to sit on, intending to wait and walk back with them once the second release opened.

What he had not expected was that in waiting, he once again encountered Zhan Qingyuan.

Zhan Qingyuan opened with: “Little Brother Yancheng, how did you find the examination? As it happens, I had practiced both Four Books questions at home, and then polished them further in the examination hall just now.” His words carried the tone of a pleased man.

“Congratulations, Brother Qingyuan. I wish you a place in the middle of the cluster list,” Xu Yancheng replied.

The cluster list — after the principal session, the list of successful candidates posted by the county office. Because the list was filled out in rings, one ring after another, it resembled a large flat cake, hence the name “cluster list.” The top scorer of the principal session was placed in the very center.

Zhan Qingyuan was not satisfied, and pressed further: “How did you find it?”

“Well enough, I suppose. I should be on the list without any trouble.”

Zhan Qingyuan noticed that Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin had not yet submitted their papers and come out. Unable to suppress a small curiosity, he asked, “Those two fellow students who came with you — from what you know of them ordinarily, what do you think their performance will be like?”

This question put Xu Yancheng in a difficult spot. What would their performance be like?

What else could it be? Rarely did he have any chance of surpassing either of his two young uncles in their essays.

Xu Yancheng tilted his head back slightly, with a faint air of resignation, and said frankly, “Do not go near those two brothers. Being near them will make all your learning feel utterly humbling.”

What he meant was: do not get too close to them — being near them will make you feel miserable. Ask me how I know.

“Oh—” Zhan Qingyuan put on a look of complete understanding, then said, “So their learning is poor enough to leave one humbled — and yet Master Duan would still take them on? Truly beyond comprehension.”