Chapter 353: Have You Asked the People of the World? (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 353: Can One Ask Everyone in the World? (Seeking Monthly Votes)

"……Fifth place!"

Chen Yi’s smile faded slightly.

He turned his back and looked into the exam hall, yet couldn’t fathom why Ma Shuhan was so harsh upon him.

Though his essay had strayed from the prescribed path, its substance bore little flaw.

And in his estimation—Ma Shuhan had seized this chance to unveil some schemes from Kyoto Prefecture.

The objective was met, so why dwell on whether his writing adhered to the prompt?

Xiao Wan’er smiled, quickly approached him, standing beside Chen Yi, watching him with a hint of worry: "The light boat…"

Shen Huatang, Xie Stopyun, and even Lady Zhang, Wan Rourou, and others followed suit.

Chen Yi regained his composure, offering a gentle smile: "There’s no need for you to fret, sister."

Xiao Wan’er relaxed a fraction, clasping her hands together beneath her sleeves, nervously: "Might there be some misunderstanding?"

Chen Yi smiled faintly: "A thousand beautiful essays, a thousand varied styles—no one can make every soul pleased."

"Master Xuezheng’s disapproval of my work is but natural."

The annual exam differed from the imperial; it tested whether scholars had labored and advanced in knowledge.

Rankings soared or sank, with rewards or penalties in tow.

Those who claimed the top spot earned grain stipends.

Those ranked lower faced reprimands, public criticism, or had their honors stripped.

It all hinged on the performance of the examinees.

Thus, the annual exam held no rigid rules; whether one’s name was listed mattered little.

Yet Ma Shuhan, publicly berating a student before the exam concluded, was an uncommon sight.

So… Ma Shuhan was deliberately targeting him?

Why?

At that moment, not only Chen Yi lingered, glancing back, but the other scholars who hadn’t departed stood bewildered.

Chen Yi, however, fixed his gaze on Ma Shuhan within the hall, while they stared at him.

Ma Guan and Tang Ye hurried over: "Mr. Qingzhou, why did Master Xuezheng speak thus to you?"

They too found it peculiar.

In past years, after the exam, the head examiner would present rankings with two deputies, evaluating all scholars in the hall.

Before that, no one could know the results beforehand.

Chen Yi shook his head, offering no reply.

After a pause, he turned to Xiao Wan’er: "I’ll go in to inquire. Sister, wait a moment."

Xiao Wan’er hesitated, the thought of joining him barely forming on her lips before she swallowed it back.

She understood Chen Yi’s prowess.

If he deemed it fit for her to accompany him, she need not speak; he would permit it.

She mused thus and remained rooted: "You… brother-in-law, be cautious…"

Chen Yi nodded slightly, stepping back into the hall.

Ma Guan, Tang Ye, and others followed.

Lady Zhang, Wan Rourou, and the like intended to proceed, yet seeing Xiao Wan’er still, they hesitated.

Wan Rourou watched the group enter, then asked thoughtfully: "Sister Xiao, Qingzhou’s poetry shines so brightly—surely his prose too is masterful. Why did Master Xuezheng rebuke him?"

Xiao Wan’er nodded, then shook her head: "I… I know not."

Lady Zhang, being elder, soothed: "Xiao Wan’er, there’s no need for such worry. It’s but one annual exam."

Wan Rourou shifted tack: "Indeed, this year may be unkind, yet next year he may partake again."

"With Qingzhou’s gifts and learning, the imperial examinations pose no challenge. One annual test is trivial."

"May that be so…"

Xiao Wan’er’s heart remained uneasy.

Even Chen Yi’s reassurance failed to calm her.

For this exam differed from past ones.

Chen Yi’s fifth-place standing risked having his honors annulled.

Within the hall.

Chen Yi gazed upon Ma Shuhan atop the dais, who held several sheets of paper, his face flushed with anger, bowing politely:

"Student Chen Yi, Chen Qingzhou, greetings to Master Xuezheng."

Ma Shuhan heard the voice, turned, gazing down with fury still simmering: "Is it truly you, Chen Yi?"

"Is it the Qingzhou of Feishui Academy?"

"Indeed, a student."

Chen Yi lifted his gaze, showing no hesitation from the prior rebuke, posture erect, one hand clasped behind him.

Like a scholar-teacher from Feishui.

"Why does Master Xuezheng deem a student’s essay nonsensical? Ranked fifth?"

The scholars who had not left, and those following Chen Yi like Ma Guan, were puzzled.

They knew Chen Yi’s talents.

Though they’d only witnessed his poetry, essays and verse intertwined in essence.

Especially Ma Guan and Tang Ye.

They’d studied under Chen Yi for months, often hearing him expound books and morals, uttering profound truths.

Each word ringing clear.

Thus, they presumed his writing failed to win Ma Shuhan’s favor.

Ma Shuhan faced the crowd’s stares, a chilling smile playing: "Since you dare question, I’ll make it plain."

He gestured to the papers: "In your ‘Questioning’ essay, what did you pen about the northern or southern campaigns? What was your take?"

Before he could finish, his expression shifted.

Yet Chen Yi denied him further speech: "The student believes military ventures inevitably drain labor and blood."

"Farther campaigns aside, the Duke of Qing’s recent expedition to Pobingguo—victory came, yet tens of thousands of soldiers perished."

"Shu Prefecture, and nearby Youzhou, Jingzhou, saw villages hoist white scarves."

"And the toll on supplies, transport, horses, arms—how could they tally such losses with care?"

“The content the students wrote was indeed not the proper method of addressing the problem.”

“Yet the students believe their performance in the annual examination is secondary, so arguments about a southern expedition or a northern campaign are also meaningless.”

“After all, Confucianism and Taoism have endured through the ages; revering Heaven and loving the people are the foundation.”

At this point, Chen Yi Zhao and Ma Shuhan bowed their hands, turning the conversation: “Sir, I dare to inquire about the academic policies—how did you come up with this question?”

His words rang like a bell in the ears of all present.

Whether they had previously argued for a southern campaign or a northern one, they now wore expressions of shame.

Confucian and Taoist studies emphasize the utmost importance of “revering Heaven and loving the people,” so writing about strategies of violence and conquest was indeed inappropriate.

Ma Guan could no longer hold back, stepping forward to bow: “Academic and Political Minister, I am Ma Guan, along with my brother Ma Ming—we share this doubt.”

Tang Ye followed suit: “The students also have this question.”

The other examinees hesitated briefly, then spoke in unison: “We humbly ask you, Sir, to grant us your guidance.”

Though they had not written as elaborately as Chen Yi, their shame only deepened upon hearing his words.

“Academic and Political Minister, the ancient sages taught that a true Confucian scholar should ‘clearly demonstrate virtue, win the hearts of the people, and strive for the highest good.’ Might probing into such matters not be a way of winning the people’s hearts?”

Hearing their collective murmur, Ma Shuhan’s face grew even paler.

After a moment of silence, Ma Shuhan gazed upon the examinees below, those who had failed the hundred-person threshold, yet he paid them no heed, fixing his gaze solely on Chen Yi:

“The purpose of the examination is to assess your learning, not to burden you with the affairs of the world—that is not a concern for a mere scholar.”

“My office has instructed you: such seditious and populist writings are mere flourishes—worthless scraps of paper.”

With those words, Ma Shuhan clasped his hands together and tore the page to shreds.

The fragments fluttered and scattered through the examination hall.

“My office instructs you—Chen Yi, your evaluation will be fifth place!” Chen Yi watched his action, his face still bearing a gentle smile:

“Sir, your decisions are for you to make—no need for students to concern ourselves.”

“Yet we students have one thing to say—‘Do not impose upon others what you yourself do not desire.’ Did you ask the people whether they wished to go south or north?”

Though his voice was soft, it rang clear in every ear.

Ma Shuhan’s earlier expression of anger faltered, his words failing him.

Instead, the examinees’ minds were set straight.

“What a noble sentiment—‘Light-boat Scholar’ high-mindedness! The students admire him!”

“The Light-boat Scholar speaks as we think. When we wrote this question, we too felt troubled.”

“It is a shame we did not dare to speak as boldly as the Light-boat Scholar.”

“The Light-boat Scholar is right—marching south to subdue barbarians is perilous; the generals of Dà Wǔ would face death in nine out of ten battles.”

“Such matters of benefit and harm—we are not qualified to judge.”

“The Scholar regards fame and fortune as common earth, embodying the virtuous spirit of our ancestors—the students are ashamed…”

Yet some examinees harbored doubts, thinking, “It was merely an exam question—why must we elevate it to such heights?”

But seeing the state of their fellow examinees, they fell silent.

Indeed.

Ma Shuhan’s face had turned ashen. He scanned the room, his voice now cold:

“You… have defied Heaven!”

He then gestured to his attendants: “Fetch them—today, my office will teach you the meaning of ‘revering teachers and upholding the Way!’”

Several clerks glanced at one another, hesitating.

These were mere words, not violations of Dà Wǔ law—how could they arrest men at will?

Moreover, the examinees present held scholar-official titles, many from prominent families—how could they incur their wrath?

Ma Shuhan roared louder: “Hurry and take them!”

At his side, two deputy examiners also spoke: “Have you not heard the Academic and Political Minister’s words? Seize them then!”

“This…”

Before the clerks could act, a voice boomed outside:

“Hold!”

Ma Shuhan turned, his expression shifting—determined, confused, relieved, and all at once, a bitter smile.

Chen Yi turned his gaze outward, raising an eyebrow.

Outside, Yang Ye arrived with Chen Yunfan, Li Huaiwu, and several clerks.

That was expected.

Following them was the Pacification Commissioner of Shu Province, Tang Zixin, and others.

The one who had spoken first was Yang Ye.

He hurried into the hall, scanning the scene, relieved to find no injuries among the examinees.

His gaze then settled on Ma Shuhan, speaking in a low, stern voice: “Master Ma, what do you intend to do here?”

Ma Shuhan said nothing.

Yang Ye, unable to contain his indignation, bowed to Tang Zixin: “Let this gentleman apologize for his misdeeds.”

Tang Zixin, resplendent in his scarlet official robes, straightened his face, unruffled:

“Not at all, Yang Ye. I have come here to reprimand Ma Shuhan of the Academic and Political Office for his misconduct in Shu Province.”

“Reprimand… who?” Yang Ye replied, regaining his composure upon seeing Tang Zixin’s earnest demeanor.

“Ma Shuhan…” Tang Zixin nodded slightly at Yang Ye’s question.

He said no more, moving forward, his eyes fixed on Ma Shuhan. As he passed Chen Yi, he cast a glance at his eyes.

Chen Yi understood his earlier suspicions to be confirmed—Ma Shuhan harbored serious flaws.

Seeing Tang Zixin stride forward and backward, he looked at Ma Shuhuan and said, "Ma, come with me to the Censorate."

"There are some matters that require your cooperation."

"Also, Shao Lincuan and Zou Qi, you two come as well."

The faces of the three main examiners—Ma Shuhuan, Zou Qi, and Shao Lincuan—shifted subtly.

The words had an immediate effect, and everyone in attendance understood Tang Zixin’s intent.

Though the other candidates had not yet left their posts, they were well-versed in the classics and fully aware of the Censorate’s authority.

—To supervise officials.

At that moment, a messenger from the Censorate arrived, requesting Ma Shuhuan’s presence, and did not hesitate to mention the Execution Commission’s role in apprehending the culprit.

Though the former dealt with local officials, the latter typically targeted commoners.

Still, with Yang Zhe and Tang Zixin present, no one dared to speak a word.

Meanwhile, Ma Shuhuan, contrary to his earlier silence, composed his features and revealed a faint smile.

As he adjusted his robes, he descended from the dais, saying, "It’s an honor to have the Censor’s direct assistance, Ma. I’ll follow you."

After a pause, he turned to Chen Yi, his smile turning cold: "You’ve narrowly escaped this time—flee for yourself."

Chen Yi watched him approach, his mind growing more perplexed.

He had confirmed that Ma Shuhuan was deliberately targeting him.

Yet he could not fathom why.

Or perhaps, he was unsure whether this was Ma Shuhuan’s own doing or someone else’s design.

Who?

Someone from Jianyu Prefecture, or from Shu Province? Or perhaps the imperial clan of Liu in Jingzhou?

After much thought, Chen Yi could only blame his own status as a son-in-law and his family’s origins in Nanfu Prefecture.

Thus, he leaned toward the idea that Liu Hong and those behind Ma Shuhuan had orchestrated this to undermine the Xiao family’s prestige.

Or perhaps it was also a blow against his own family in Nanfu Prefecture.

Regardless, the matter would inevitably spread once Ma Shuhuan and the others were taken to the Censorate.

Soon, discussions of southern expeditions and northern campaigns would abound.

Likewise, his words would be remembered.

At that moment, Chen Yunfan and Li Huiguo approached, patting his shoulder and smiling, "Not unworthy of Yi, truly—his heart is for the world."

Li Huiguo wore a bitter smile, admiring, "Yesterday, I was pondering how Brother Qiao would resolve this matter. Today, hearing the news…"

"Huiguo, your humility."

Chen Yi smiled, about to speak, when a roar from outside the examination hall reached his ears:

"Who dares!?"

"Who would dare assassinate an official before all these people?!"

In an instant, Ma Shuhuan’s scream echoed through the courtyard.

Chen Yi’s face paled, and he rushed out.

Chen Yunfan and the others followed suit.

Outside the hall, Chen Yi saw Tang Zixin and his group not far away, and Ma Shuhuan’s lifeless body lying severed at the ground. A chill ran through his veins.

"That man could not wait a moment longer."

(Chapter Complete)