Shi Huai opened the examination paper and read the questions carefully.
His gaze fell on the first one.
The question was a line from the Mencius: “The people are the most important; the state comes next; the ruler is the least important.”
He was required to write an essay explaining the meaning of the passage and, in light of the current problems in government, present his own views.
Shi Huai stared at the question for several breaths. In his mind, he had already begun organizing the structure of his essay.
He did not hurry to begin writing. Instead, he read through the entire examination paper from start to finish, making sure he had not overlooked any questions. Then he closed his eyes and went over the outline in his mind once more.
From the introduction and development to the opening argument and transition, from the first section to the second, then the third and fourth, every part was perfectly clear.
When he opened his eyes, he picked up his brush and dipped it into the inkstone. The tip paused over the paper for a moment before he began to write.
“The people are the foundation of the state. The reason the state exists, the reason the ruler is honored—all of these depend upon placing the people first...”
The second session tested policy essays.
The question concerned taxation: “In the empire today, taxes are unfairly distributed. The wealthy own fields stretching for miles yet pay little tax, while the poor have not even a patch of land on which to stand and are burdened with heavy taxes. How should this be remedied?”
Shi Huai sat in his examination cubicle for the entire day and wrote a policy essay of more than four thousand words.
He began by discussing the root causes of unequal taxation, analyzing the problems of land concentration, official corruption, and loopholes in the system. He then proposed specific solutions for each issue.
He suggested surveying and registering all farmland, reforming the tax system, punishing corrupt officials, and comforting and stabilizing the common people. Every proposal struck at the heart of the problem, and every one was practical and feasible.
After finishing, he read the essay from beginning to end, revised several awkwardly chosen words, and checked once more to make sure he had not used any forbidden expressions. Only after confirming that everything was in order did he put down his brush.
The third session tested policy essays as well.
The question concerned the administration of officials: “Officials are the parents of the people. Yet among today’s officials, the virtuous are few and the incompetent many. How should this be rectified?”
When Shi Huai saw the question, his brows drew together slightly.
This question was more sensitive than the first two, touching directly upon the most fundamental problems of the imperial government.
After thinking it over, he decided to approach it through four words: selection, education, appointment, and evaluation.
Selection had to be strict, education conscientious, appointments appropriate, and evaluations impartial. The four stages were interconnected, and none could be neglected.
He sat in his examination cubicle for the entire day and wrote a policy essay of more than five thousand words.
When he finished, he leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath.
The examination was finally over.
He packed up his belongings, carefully folded his examination papers, and placed them in the basket, then waited for the attendants to collect them.
Shi Huai felt that he had done fairly well. At least he had answered every question, left nothing blank, and strayed from none of the topics.
But he had no idea whether he would pass.
The competition in the metropolitan examination was simply too fierce. The empire’s finest talents had gathered there, and no one dared claim that success was assured.
The examination results would not be posted for more than a month. During that time, invitations to banquets poured into the Marquis of Yongning’s residence like snowflakes.
There were banquets hosted by fellow candidates, winter appreciation banquets held by great aristocratic families, and private dinners hosted by court officials.
Several families even used the pretext of “seeking advice on essays” when what they really wanted was to meet the legendary young prodigy.
Shi Yuanzhi accepted every invitation without exception.
Whenever an invitation arrived, he had someone send back a reply saying that his son would certainly attend.
Shi Huai knew exactly what Shi Yuanzhi was thinking.
The Marquis of Yongning’s residence had been in decline for far too long and needed to regain its footing among the upper circles of the capital.
And he was the best calling card they could possibly have.
Unfortunately, he would not allow Shi Yuanzhi to have his way.
The next day, Shi Huai took a bundle of clothes and went to Great Enlightenment Temple.
He intended to “cultivate himself” there for a month.
This startled everyone else.
Could the Young Master of the Shi family be planning to become a monk?
If so, would they have to spend the rest of their lives pining for him?
When Shi Huai carried his bundle through the gates of Great Enlightenment Temple, fine snow began to drift down from the sky.
A guest monk led him through the Hall of Great Heroes and around a stone pagoda to a quiet chamber in the rear courtyard.
The moment the door opened, the fragrance of sandalwood washed over him, mingled with the charred scent of burning pine branches.
The room was small. There was a wooden couch, a table, and a chair, with a bronze Buddha statue enshrined in the corner. Wisps of smoke curled from the incense burner before the Buddha. Apart from that, there was nothing else.
“Please rest here, Young Master. Vegetarian meals will be delivered at the mao, wu, and shen hours each day. If you require anything else, simply ring the bronze bell on the doorframe.”
The guest monk put his palms together in a salute, then turned and left. His footsteps gradually faded along the stone path.
Shi Huai placed his bundle on the couch and opened the window. A thin layer of snow covered the old pine in the courtyard, while several sparrows hopped from branch to branch, chirping noisily.
He had just taken the books from his bundle and arranged them on the table when someone knocked on the door.
“Young Master Shi, His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived. He is waiting outside the mountain gate and says he wishes to see you.”
The guest monk’s voice came from outside, carrying a trace of caution.
The book in Shi Huai’s hand paused.
He placed it on the table, straightened his collar, and left the quiet chamber. Passing through the corridor, he soon saw the Crown Prince standing on the stone steps just inside the mountain gate.
Two guards stood behind him.
The Crown Prince was dressed in a dark fox-fur cloak, a gold belt tied around his waist. A trace of impatience and displeasure showed between his brows.
When he saw Shi Huai emerge, the crease in his forehead relaxed slightly.
“Why did you run off here? I sent someone to the Marquis of Yongning’s residence with an invitation, only to learn that you had come to Great Enlightenment Temple and planned to stay for a month.”
His voice echoed through the open mountain gate, carrying irrepressible accusation.
Shi Huai stopped before him, bowed, and said helplessly, “Your Highness, I came to Great Enlightenment Temple to avoid the banquets. There were simply too many invitations...”
Most of the Crown Prince’s anger evaporated, but he was unwilling to let Shi Huai off so easily.
“If you want peace and quiet, I could have arranged a secluded courtyard for you in the Eastern Palace. Why did you have to come all the way to a temple?”
Shi Huai shook his head.
“Your Highness, no matter how quiet a courtyard in the Eastern Palace might be, it would still be part of the Eastern Palace. What would it mean for this student to live there? What would people outside say?”
The Crown Prince was rendered speechless. His lips moved a few times, but not a single word came out.
Of course he knew what people would say.
They would say that Shi Huai was currying favor with powerful nobles, and that the Marquis of Yongning’s household was trying to ingratiate itself with the Crown Prince. Those were words he could not bear to hear, much less allow Shi Huai to hear.
“Then if you stay here for a month, what is your prince supposed to do?”
The Crown Prince softened his voice, sounding aggrieved and unwilling. His eyes remained fixed on Shi Huai’s face, like a large dog that had been neglected by its master.
Looking at the Crown Prince’s expression, which plainly declared, “I’m unhappy,” Shi Huai’s lips curved upward ever so slightly.
“Your Highness should do whatever Your Highness ought to do. You have affairs of state to attend to; there is no need to worry about this student.”
Shi Huai’s indifferent tone left the Crown Prince feeling both restless and helpless. He reached out as if to tug at Shi Huai’s sleeve, but withdrew his hand before his fingers could touch it.
“I don’t care. I’ll come every rest day. You can’t stop me from entering the mountain gate, can you?”
Shi Huai considered this, then nodded.
“If Your Highness insists on coming, this student cannot stop you. But Your Highness must not bring too many people. This is a quiet Buddhist sanctuary, not the Eastern Palace.”
At last, a smile returned to the Crown Prince’s face. He nodded repeatedly, unable to conceal his delight, and said:
“Fine, fine. I won’t bring anyone. I’ll come alone and won’t tell a soul.”
Shi Huai looked at the Crown Prince, who seemed so delighted he was practically about to jump for joy, and sighed inwardly before turning toward the rear courtyard.
The Crown Prince followed him for a few steps, then stopped and glanced back at the two guards.
In a lowered voice, he said, “Wait here at the entrance. You are not to follow us in.”
The guards exchanged a look, then lowered their heads in unison and answered, “Yes, Your Highness.” Their feet remained rooted to the spot.
