ITIEQ C2

Chapter 2 – The Hall of Governance

Everyone inside the hall was stunned by Shen Qinghe’s sudden outcry.

“Oh?” Xiao Yuanzheng raised his hand, and someone immediately came forward to hold the handkerchief he had been holding. “And you are—?”

Behind him, the grand eunuch Jinchang at once declared: “He is the second son of the Vice Minister of Rites, Shen Qinghe.”

“‘Peace across the rivers, harmony in the seas, flourishing in both time and harvest.’” Xiao Yuanzheng chuckled lightly. “Shen Zhao does seem adept at naming.” The emperor’s voice carried refinement, its cultured tone instilled with elegance.

“Shen Qinghe, what grievance do you claim?”

System: Host, a thousand years of classical texts have been prepared and are ready.

Shen Qinghe: [“Get aside, don’t disturb me while I’m performing.”]

System: …

Calming himself, Shen Qinghe spoke with unwavering strength: “Your Majesty, this subject has never engaged in cheating, yet I was thrown into the Heavenly Prison. This is the grievance I plead!”

Everyone present felt stormy waves rise in their hearts!

The examinees wanted to rush over and cover Shen Qinghe’s mouth. They had thought he had some clever solution up his sleeve—yet it turned out he was simply throwing his life away fearlessly! If he alone courted disaster, that would be one thing, but would he not implicate them all as well?

At once, those kneeling close to him crawled back discreetly, desperate to distance themselves from that reckless, brazen man who dared to accuse the emperor to his face.

Eunuch Jinchang thought to himself: “This young master of the Vice Minister’s household truly fears nothing like a newborn calf facing a tiger.” His gaze lingered on Shen Qinghe in curiosity while also observing the emperor’s expression. To his surprise, the emperor—who moments ago had seemed disengaged—now sat forward and opened his lips:

“Do you know what the crime of deceiving your sovereign is?”

“If Your Majesty wishes me dead, at least let me die with clarity!” Shen Qinghe stood in plain white clothing, his posture tall and straight as bamboo, his words carrying the bold bearing of an upright scholar.

“Very well,” Xiao Yuanzheng’s tone was calm, yet those around could discern anger beneath it. Jinchang’s heart sank. “This second young master is doomed.” Serving Emperor Zhaohuan for more than a decade, he knew this quiet tone of voice was a sign of wrath. He discreetly signaled a young eunuch to quickly fetch tea.

Palace attendants placed several rolls of white examination papers before Shen Qinghe. They set them down gently at his feet. With the other examinees having crept away, an open space lay before him.

The papers were covered edge to edge in orderly characters; Shen Qinghe flipped through them at a glance, scanning line after line. The farther he read, the more speechless he grew. “Isn’t this just the lowest level of word-for-word paraphrasing? Even the dimmest student knows to make a few mistakes—yet these fellows copied word for word!” His gaze flicked toward the shrunken figures of the examinees around him. “They really had no self-awareness of their own ability. Give them an answer, and they truly copied it wholesale!”

As the emperor sipped his tea, Eunuch Jinchang cleared his throat and asked at an opportune moment:

“Second Young Master Shen, these essays belong to yourself and the other scholars here. You claim not to have cheated—yet why are they so conspicuously similar?”

He phrased it tactfully. Several of these essays differed only in how a few phrases had been flipped back and forth.

Shen Qinghe answered: “The essay topic tested ‘The Way of Governance.’ This subject wrote sincerely from his own heart. At present, the world reveres the scholarship of the Yue School. Principles such as ‘surpassing rigid rituals and following natural law,’ and ‘promoting men by virtue and appointing them by ability’—these have been taught to me since my earliest education, personally passed down by my tutor from the ancient texts. I dare not deviate in the slightest.”

He gave several subtle winks, and the nearby examinees—staring blankly at him—finally caught on and shuffled back to his side. “The partition between gentry and the common people truly… truly lies beyond heaven’s reach. This too was what I was taught as a child.”

As more and more of them joined in, Shen Qinghe threw himself deeper into the performance, even forcing out a few tears.

“This dull subject cannot understand—why is it that when the ancient odes and lessons are employed in an examination, it becomes ‘cheating’?”

Eunuch Jinchang gasped inwardly. “What an arrogant, reckless lad!”

As the emperor’s brows knit faintly, Shen Qinghe seized the moment to take a deep breath and continued in impassioned tones:

“Yet, in the Heavenly Prison, having reflected for three days, I awakened as if doused in clarity. I came to realize my thoughts in the past had been narrow and misguided. One must not rule the hundred schools with the perspective of only one discipline. One must not attempt to encapsulate all under heaven with only one saying. ‘How could the waters flow so pure? Because they are fed by a living spring.’ My past thinking was gravely mistaken—no wonder I angered the Emperor! Thus, I humble myself to resign from my minor post as Recorder of Texts, to better cultivate restraint.”

Xiao Yuanzheng’s expression shifted slightly.

“Though my talent is small and of no great use, since childhood I have studied diligently, knowing right from wrong. Now speaking these words from my very heart before the throne, I could never dare to cheat or mislead the Son of Heaven. I beseech Your Majesty to discern the truth!” Shen Qinghe’s voice choked as he kowtowed with utmost reverence.

All the other scholars gaped open-mouthed. The quick-witted among them hastened to follow suit, bowing down behind him.

Xiao Yuanzheng’s lowered gaze rested on Shen Qinghe, his eyes scanning that white robe—an empty shell around an unbending spine. Though now lying prostrate with forehead to the ground, each word dripping with sincerity, he stirred the hearts of all present.

Shen Qinghe himself, however, winced in pain under his bowed head—his act a bit too realistic. His forehead likely swelling already from the force of his kowtow.

The hall fell utterly silent. Just as Shen Qinghe began to feel unease in the quiet, a pair of arms gently lifted him up. His body stiffened at first—then his eyes caught the embroidered hem of the imperial robe brushed with gold, the jeweled belt gleaming at the waist.

Meeting Emperor Zhaohuan’s youthful face—his eyes still red from tears—the emperor paused briefly, then reached out and brushed away the teardrop trembling stubbornly upon Shen Qinghe’s lashes.

Shen Qinghe looked no more than his early twenties, still boyish in air. Three days in prison must have frightened him deeply, and yet he still dared to defend himself before the emperor in open court. This took more courage than some of the seasoned ministers possessed.

“Your Majesty, this subject has been wronged…” Shen Qinghe tilted his tear-stained face upward. Though the emperor towered above, he was younger than expected—no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

The emperor’s tone was measured and kind: “I have never sullied an upright man’s name.” He patted Shen Qinghe’s shoulder. “Moreover, Shen Qinghe, your arguments are not without reason. I have heard of your extraordinary talent, and your father Shen Zhao is known as a loyal and upright official. Enough tears. I believe you.”

Hearing those close, warm words—so different from the cold majesty atop the high throne—Shen Qinghe broke into a cold sweat. “What extraordinary talent? What loyal and upright father? This is clearly…” He stifled the thought. “The emperor is subtly warning me, isn’t he?”

“This subject behaved improperly before the throne.” Shen Qinghe bowed again, but the young emperor held him upright.

Rising, the emperor summoned his chamberlain. Jinchang hurried forward.

“These young scholars were frightened today. Escort them out of the palace with care, and grant them a pouch of pearls for comfort.”

“And Shen Qinghe—”

Hearing himself singled out, Shen Qinghe froze before quickly regaining composure.

“Today you performed a great merit.” The emperor clasped his hand in his own—broad palms brooking no resistance—and slid a warm white jade thumb ring onto Shen Qinghe’s thumb.

“This reward is for you alone.”

…

Only when they left the Hall of Governance did the examinees dare to breathe, their legs unsteady beneath them. Encountering daylight again, they realized their inner garments were soaked through with cold sweat. Each instinctively touched their necks, marveling that their heads still sat firmly on their shoulders.

What had just happened? How had they escaped punishment?

Once outside the palace, truly free once more, they turned to Shen Qinghe, bowing in gratitude—faces awash with real emotion, nearly in tears.

Watching silently, the system: …

Midway along the road, Shen Qinghe ordered the mule cart stopped, directing the driver toward the Vice Minister’s residence.

Yet suddenly the cart jolted abruptly. The driver apologizing nonstop, Shen Qinghe nearly fell from his seat. Pulling the curtain aside, stars still dancing before his eyes, he saw the way ahead blocked by a long line of riders—students in plain linen, with tattered hats, upon skinny donkeys. The queue stretched half the street.

Shen Qinghe asked: “What are they doing?”

The driver, unfazed, replied: “They are scholars, some failed candidates. They line up to have their essays reviewed. If chosen, they may find sudden success and fortune. Why, I even saw one fling himself before an official’s carriage, begging recognition—risking death beneath the wheels, so eager are they. It is we working folk who suffer most—every time we pass Luo Jin Street, we must detour.”

Shen Qinghe let the curtain fall, nodding thoughtfully.

Leaning back, he spoke idly to the system: “I suppose you don’t understand why the emperor spared me.”

If anyone truly believed his ‘words of sincerity’ had genuinely moved Emperor Zhaohuan, it would surely be none but those seven naive fellows still huddling like quails.

Reading the silence, Shen Qinghe toyed with the oversized thumb ring in his palm. “Do you know the first step in answering a question?”

System: “…Read the question?”

“Wrong! It’s writing the solution outline.”

System: …

“Hah, just joking!” Shen Qinghe laughed heartily. “Of course, the first step is understanding what the examiner wants to test. Clearly you never went through nine years of compulsory schooling!”

“Today, the emperor was the examiner, and I the examinee. If you attempt the test without grasping what he intends to ask—filling the paper with all the words you know—what is it worth?”

System: …Why do I feel like I’ve just been insulted?

“This world’s matters—all of them—can be considered examinations. If you merely ‘answer the paper,’ the best you’ll do is get full marks.”

System’s data trembled: Full marks only? Could it be surpassed?

Shen Qinghe nodded gravely: “Of course. How do you think I made the leap from small-town exam grinder to prophet of success? If the boss picks from a dish, you rotate the table his way; if the boss heads toward the door, you rush for the carriage door. System, perhaps you should practice political acumen in your spare time. Eh? Why go quiet? Are you upset?”

The mule cart jolted up and down, bouncing Shen Qinghe about as he chuckled between jolts. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Look again at the imperial exam topic—‘The Way of Governance.’ Such a vast subject! Even a whole book couldn’t explain it fully. On a single sheet, what could we possibly write?”

He tapped his own head. “From my memory, it’s clear—the Yue School dominates scholarship in this era. Those fellow prisoners told me as much—their basic primers were Yue School texts. And see outside—the first step for advancement is still paying homage at noble households. Aristocrats monopolize both education and careers. ‘No high status for the poor, no low status for the noble-born.’ And that is the true reason why the emperor values the examination system so greatly.”

“Would any ruler tolerate another sneezing in his own bed? As sovereign, he certainly cannot.”

An imperial gift—especially such a personal one as a thumb ring—would be treasured elsewhere, enshrined as a family heirloom. Yet Shen Qinghe twirled it carelessly, mimicking Xiao Yuanzheng’s calm, weighty cadence—

“My guess is he meant: ‘You’ve handed me a blade to strike at the aristocratic clans. In return, I’ll spare your life.’”

“If you are a fool, then simply accept the gift and retreat.”

“But if you are clever—”

Shen Qinghe’s eyes gleamed sharp with sudden brilliance.

“—then you’ll know to keep your mouth shut.”

notes

1. “No high status for the poor, no low status for the noble-born” (上品無寒門，下品無勢族) – A historical saying from the Wei-Jin period, reflecting the rigid social hierarchy and the dominance of aristocratic families.

2. “How could the waters be so clear? Because they are fed by a living spring” – A famous line from Zhu Xi, Neo-Confucian philosopher. Here, Shen Qinghe cleverly borrows classical metaphor.