ITIEQ C8

Chapter 8 – Dream Academy

After the imperial examiner finished reading the script, the entire hall was so silent that even a pin drop could be heard.

This… what kind of writing style was this!

The officials waiting on both sides sneered. What kind of nonsense was this? Utterly against proper literary form. Who dared to be so reckless and flamboyant in the palace examination, trying to draw attention with such outlandish tricks? Surely this candidate would end up ranked at the very bottom!

As for the final Three Supreme Scholars¹, the senior ministers had already selected their favored candidates early on—ten essays in total to be presented before Emperor Zhaohuan for his final judgment. The rankings beyond the first were debatable, yet the unanimous choice for First Place rested on Yue Jie.

That eccentric and unconventional essay, however, had long since been set aside with little thought.

When Zhaohuan Emperor glanced over the ten chosen essays, his expression was unreadable. He turned to the grand eunuch at his side.

Jinchang, who understood immediately, retrieved the discarded paper that no one had considered, and respectfully placed it before His Majesty.

The Emperor’s brow suddenly relaxed, a hint of smile appearing in his features.

“Plain in language, easy to grasp, focused in meaning, and of sharp insight—this essay is indeed a fine work. What do you all think?”

The senior ministers stammered, faltering in words: “This…”

Jinchang let his whisk rest upon his arm and added, “That young master of the Shen family is also exceedingly handsome. If he were to take the position of Tanhua², it would be rightfully deserved.”

Emperor Zhaohuan laughed with delight: “Indeed, he has exceptional bearing. He is worthy of the title of Tanhua.”

All the court officials looked at each other in disbelief. So the Emperor’s decision was final, just like that.

Wide-eyed, they hurriedly tried to scrutinize the chosen essay, designated as that of the new Tanhua. Was His Majesty truly fond of this unusual, unorthodox style?

…

In the side hall where the candidates waited, restless anticipation filled the air. At the call of the imperial decree, everyone knelt in reverence.

Shen Qinghe, quietly mingled in the crowd. While others trembled with tension, sweat beading upon their foreheads—no different from students awaiting their high school entrance exam results in modern times—he himself was rather calm.

That calmness, however, quickly evaporated upon hearing his own name declared among the Three Supreme Scholars, as the imperial edict shimmering in golden script was placed in his hands, prompting him to kneel and thank the Emperor’s grace.

The Emperor… was practically setting him afloat upon the seas!

He, with an essay full of private ramblings, had truly been named Tanhua?

Surely, at this rate, the Great Yong Dynasty was doomed to ruin.

The candidate who had spoken with him earlier before the throne now looked at him differently—an expression filled with disapproval and reproach.

Even a man with the acclaimed reputation of the Yue family didn’t secure all three top spots, and yet this Shen Qinghe—with his bizarre ramblings—made it into the third? Was this not ridiculous?

…

In the main hall, Emperor Zhaohuan had approached his scholars. Without the heavy regalia of full court dress, he wore a more modest robe today—absent of the solemn grandeur from before.

By his side, a young eunuch bore a tray upon which rested three bouquets of golden and silvered hairpins in the shape of flowers.

To determine the Three Supreme Scholars, the Emperor would adorn them himself before they toured the city in parade. The Champion (first) wore golden flowers, the Second wore silver, and so too did the Tanhua. This honor came only once in a lifetime, as the newly appointed jinshi³ paraded through the streets in jubilant procession.

The Emperor first picked the golden flowers and crowned Yue Jie, patting his shoulder.

“You have not disgraced the Yue family’s name.”

Yue Jie bowed slightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Then the silver hairpin was placed on the Second, a burly man with wheat-colored skin, not possessing the pale elegance favored by the aristocrats of the time, but exuding strength instead. The Emperor offered him a few words of encouragement.

Then it came Shen Qinghe’s turn.

That dragon robe with crimson edges turned its way toward him, and Zhaohuan approached.

Neither hairpin nor words were immediately bestowed.

Shen Qinghe slowly looked up, and albeit improper, his eyes traveled from beneath the Emperor’s chin and finally met His Majesty’s gaze. Unlike the previous encounter, when only a crown had masked those features, this time there was no barrier between them. Those clear and gentle light-colored pupils locked with his own.

He was curious—why had the Emperor chosen him for Tanhua?

But no answer was given.

“Your Majesty,” Shen Qinghe said softly, smiling with his eyes before respectfully averting his gaze.

“Three days away, and one must be reassessed,”⁴ Zhaohuan’s voice deep and resonant, gentler than the sharp, intimidating tone during their previous interrogation. Now, he addressed his Tanhua with utmost warmth.

“I have read your essay.” The Emperor picked up the last silver blossom.

Ears pricking, Shen Qinghe waited. Yet no further words followed.

Looking up again, he caught sight of the Emperor’s gently smiling eyes. Pressing his lips together, he murmured, “Your Majesty is mocking me.”

“It was… somewhat inclusive in scope,” the Emperor said, fixing the silver blossom neatly into Shen Qinghe’s cap.

“But it is you whom I favor.”

Before Shen Qinghe could puzzle out His Majesty’s intent, he was ushered out of the hall. Accompanied by officials from the Ministry of Rites and Ministry of Personnel surrounding him, edicts in hand, drums beating, banners waving—he was carried forth with splendor. His father, Shen Zhao, among the ranks of officials, glared with a scolding look at his son, but soon stroked his beard proudly, basking in triumph.

Yue Jie, resplendent in red, rode at the forefront. Behind him in dark-blue robes came the Second and Shen Qinghe, each astride tall steeds as they departed from the palace gates.

Raising his reins, Yue Jie claimed his place at the head with unrivaled dignity.

The procession proceeded with flags and music. Shouts of joy filled the streets of the capital as families of every generation crowded to witness the chosen scholars’ glory.

In Great Yong, a culture of beauty and refinement flourished. In addition to one’s scholarly virtue, appearance and elegance were also highly valued. Spotting the handsome Champion Yue Jie in his crimson robes, the townspeople showered him with flowers and scented sachets.

Though the crowd roared in delight, Yue Jie only maintained cool reserve, his demeanor aloof and severe.

When their gazes landed upon the radiant Tanhua riding behind, the people cheered even louder. Tossed flowers rained down like stars. Shen Qinghe accepted them smoothly, raising one to eye with a smile, his gaze shining like spring water. The crowd’s cries grew louder still.

At once, not only flowers and sachets—but fruits and every kind of gift—were hurled en masse.

Startled, Shen Qinghe realized his theatrics had backfired. Pulling the reins, he quickly moved two steps forward.

From atop his steed, Yue Jie frowned upon seeing him approach. His words were cold: “What are you doing?”

Shen Qinghe grinned sheepishly: “They admire you, Master Yue. Standing behind you, I am merely basking in your glory.”

The Second Scholar beside them could only stand by in silence…

Yue Jie gave a cold snort. Yet just as he composed himself, even more fruits began striking their way.

The maidens, enthusiastic and sharp-eyed, aimed with uncanny precision—hitting robes and ornaments directly each time. Shen Qinghe ducked, hiding behind Yue Jie, and found his rival’s steadfast composure almost comical. Even as the gifts struck, Yue Jie straightened his back, maintaining the graceful air of a Champion, never flinching, not even at pain. Shen Qinghe almost burst out laughing.

The golden flower pin in Yue Jie’s cap was even knocked askew. Unable to contain himself, Shen Qinghe called out with good humor:

“Ladies, please don’t throw them here any longer! Otherwise, our most handsome Champion may grow jealous. Spare him your favors as well!”

Charmed by his smile and gentle tone, the crowd complied gladly.

The grand avenue remained filled with the fragrance of fruits and flowers long after.

Buried within the excited crowd, Lü Song whispered: “No matter how I look, it is our young master who seems the most impressive.”

Nan Hong agreed: “Indeed—our young master’s elegance eclipses all others.”

—

The following day, the newly appointed scholars were granted the Banquet of the Golden Carp⁵. Its name derived from the adage, “The golden carp is not destined for the pond; when it meets the wind and clouds, it transforms into a dragon.”

The emperor himself attended, appointing offices for the brightest, and assigning ranks for the rest. Among dozens of scholars—both young and old—all dressed in celebratory red robes, each sought the Emperor’s favor and recognition.

The Great Yong Dynasty, struggling over recent years without harvest or abundance, had reduced extravagances both among royals and commoners alike. Compared to the general austerity, this banquet was lavish indeed. It was held by the river, where wine cups floated along winding streams, accompanied by music, drums, delicacies, and rare cuisine.

As usual, Shen Qinghe arrived just in time. Socializing was of little interest to him—he was simply there to taste the fine imperial delicacies. Sitting by a long table, he immediately picked out fresh seasonal fruits.

“No wonder this is the palace. Even the pears here are larger and juicier than elsewhere.” Shen Qinghe said to the system in his mind as he nibbled contentedly.

“You know, if it weren’t for your striking hair, I might’ve smuggled you in too. We both could’ve enjoyed this feast.”

The system sighed: “…Thank you for thinking of me.”

All the while, Shen Qinghe eyed the hall furtively.

Evidently, two factions stood out among the scholars. One led by Yue Jie, the proud representatives of powerful aristocratic families, enjoying great prominence.

The other comprised sons of humble backgrounds, though fewer, standing firmly together nonetheless.

From afar, the two groups appeared to be at odds.

As Shen Qinghe recalled, in past years, aristocratic candidates far outnumbered those of humbler origins. Rarely did commoners win at all. But now, nearly half of today’s scholars were born to poor families. Even the top three places had seen one of their own.

This was no coincidence. For the Emperor, intent upon strengthening centralized power, naturally sought to curb the dominance of great clans. The statistics spoke for themselves, though the aristocrats, still wrapped in their sense of superiority, remained oblivious to the approaching storm.

Foremost among them, of course, was the Yue family.

Shen Qinghe thought: “In other words, both the Yue clan and the Shangqing Academy are little more than malignant growths standing against the tide of reform—poisons hindering the true values of societal progress. Right now, they enjoy good public reputation, but the moment they commit one major error…”

The system asked: “And then?”

Shen Qinghe narrowed his eyes: “That will be our chance to seize first place!”

“This is precisely the time to support national policy, to align with the leader. Only then, when the double-first-class universities⁶ are judged, can we partake in the feast of benefits.”

The system: “You sound very well-versed.”

Shen Qinghe sighed: “Don’t mention it. My school’s doctoral program only came to be through my advisor’s relentless competition in academic contests and chasing research achievements. That’s how he became our university’s legend. And I… shall inherit his mantle.”

The system: “So ambitious.”

Shen Qinghe: “Heh, mainly because after that success, his bonuses multiplied several times. He gained financial freedom completely. Honestly, I worked hard for a long time before persuading him to accept me as his student.”

The system: “…”

Shen Qinghe continued flipping through the fruit trays, searching for rarities. Discovering a beautifully green, jade-like fruit, he popped it in—only to be struck by an overwhelming sourness straight to his skull.

“My farming radar is going off,” he murmured to the system. “Time to develop multi-variety crops without delay!”

“Is that not Young Master Shen? Why are you eating alone here?”

Though Shen Qinghe avoided taking sides, it only drew attention in itself. Soon enough, a group of aristocratic scholars arrived by his table.

Spotting Yue Jie at their head, Shen Qinghe thought he could still treat him with a semblance of camaraderie, recalling their ride together. Offering the green fruit, he asked: “Master Yue, would you like one?”

Yue Jie frowned: “Rustic and base.”

The Yue clan, ancestral rulers of Yan, stood at the pinnacle of aristocratic refinement. Only families of centuries-old heritage gained their favor. To them, men like Shen Qinghe—newly risen with little foundation—were no more than vulgar upstarts, indistinguishable from commoners.

Yet Shen Qinghe showed no sign of offense. “I’ve heard Master Yue is tutored by the renowned Shangqing Academy. Remarkable—truly remarkable.”

“That it produced one so brilliant as you—surely the Shangqing Academy must be a magnificent place. Please, will you tell me more? Forgive my ignorance, but never having seen it with my own eyes has been the regret of my life!”

Shen Qinghe’s reaction was unexpected. Seeing him remain respectful, Yue Jie relented slightly, though with visible pride, and answered:

“Of course. Our academy is nestled deep among mountain clouds, with lakes and islands carved from the land, orchids abundant, and lofty pavilions scattered throughout. Scenic waters and mountains stretch as far as the eye sees; halls and galleries extend endlessly. Inside, there are jade-like terraces and three hundred chambers, enough to accommodate countless students for study.”

Noticing the dazed, almost ravenous admiration in Shen Qinghe’s eyes, Yue Jie frowned deeper still.

This man was utterly without scholarly composure—hardly one to be counted among honorable peers.

But Shen Qinghe was genuinely envious. Speaking internally to his system, he whispered excitedly: “Yes, yes! This is exactly it—the Dream Academy! I must curry more favor with the Emperor. If I can bring down this scholastic stronghold, perhaps the grounds can be granted to me. Then I shall relocate my students directly there intact. With us—‘Qingbei’⁷—presiding, the honor of Great Yong’s foremost academy will be carried on with justice!”

Footnotes:

¹ Three Supreme Scholars (三甲) – The top three candidates in the palace examinations, holding the titles of Zhuangyuan (Champion), Bangyan (Second), and Tanhua (Third).

² Tanhua (探花) – The third highest-ranking scholar in the highest imperial exam; also literally means “Flower Seeker.”

³ Jinshi (進士) – Degree holders who passed the highest level of the imperial civil service exam.

⁴ “Three days away, and one must be reassessed” (士别三日，当刮目相待) – An idiom meaning that a student who has not been seen for several days should be regarded with new respect, as he may have improved greatly.

⁵ Banquet of the Golden Carp (金鱗宴) – A celebratory banquet given to the newly chosen scholars after the palace examination, symbolizing their rising potential, as a carp that leaps over the Dragon Gate becomes a dragon.

⁶ Double First-Class Universities (双一流) – A modern Chinese government initiative supporting world-class universities and disciplines. The reference here is inserted humorously into the ancient setting via Shen Qinghe’s perspective.

⁷ “Qingbei (清北)” – Refers to Tsinghua University (清华) and Peking University (北大), China’s two most prestigious universities; here Shen Qinghe jokingly compares himself and his imagined academy to them.