Chapter Eighty-One: The Metropolitan Examination—On the Composition of Rhymed Essays

Although more and more people flocked to study at the Lu Residence Cottage—so many that, upon seeing a familiar figure, one often had to strain to recall the person’s name—the first ten disciples admitted as full members of the cottage remained firmly etched in everyone’s memory. Among them, Du Shiyi was by no means the most striking presence, yet he was certainly the easiest to remember.

First, it was the stitched-bound books, now widespread within the cottage thanks to him. Second, the peculiar furnishings in his room, especially the chair with armrests called a “recliner,” where one could sit with legs hanging down—an utter novelty. Third, it was his frequent trips down the mountain; each time he returned, even the most indifferent would stand in awe, while Master Lu Hong would burst into hearty laughter.

This occasion was no different. Lu Hong watched with great interest as Du Shiyi, sleeves rolled up, ground ink himself until the inkstone was half-filled. Then, accepting a brush handed over by Lu Wangzhi, he casually dipped it in ink and sketched a few bold strokes on a square of rattan paper. In just a few moments, he set the brush down and, gazing at the vigorous pine tree that had sprung to life on the paper, mused, “Your brushwork and blending are flawless, and these shades are perfect for painting landscapes in ink. Moreover…”

He suddenly bent down, bringing his eyes close to the paper, and after a careful inspection, straightened and continued, “Moreover, the color of this ink is remarkably even and rich… However, Eleven, you were a bit too hasty grinding the ink just now—you almost ruined my prized tribute inkstone from Guozhou!”

At this, Cui Jianxuan, standing to the side, lowered his head in profound guilt. Lu Wangzhi seized the opportunity, smiling, “Eleven’s clumsiness is nothing new. Grinding ink is a minor matter—even if you make a mistake, you only risk an inkstone. But if you’re this careless with matters of state and family in the future, you’ll cause real disasters. So, I’m giving you a task. With students coming and going daily at the cottage, your Third Brother is run off his feet. Go and assist him. You’ll be responsible for class attendance logs each day and recording the names and hometowns of our students every fortnight. These records must be submitted promptly to the county office in Dengfeng.”

Cui Jianxuan hadn’t expected to land such a task while watching the fun, and he drew a sharp breath in surprise. He cast desperate glances at Du Shiyi, hoping for rescue, but before Du could even notice his anxious expression, Lu Hong had already caught on and added, “Eleven, your eldest brother is right. You need to temper your character. These tasks, though trivial, have their method and order. Take your time and learn them well.”

With both his eldest brother and master in agreement, Cui Jianxuan could only agree despondently, shooting a resentful look at Du Shiyi before leaving. As soon as he departed, Lu Wangzhi found an excuse to slip away as well. Now, Lu Hong turned thoughtfully to Du Shiyi and asked, “Nineteen, your painstaking research into making ink—surely it’s not solely for profit?”

Before Lu Hong, Du Shiyi was always more candid. In the eyes of this elder—who, like himself, had once come from a noble family fallen into decline, witnessed the fickleness of the world, and then chosen the path of seclusion—many of Du’s plans were impossible to hide. Just like the time he had claimed not to seek recommendations when coming to study, only for Cui Jianxuan’s loose tongue to expose the lie in an instant.

At Lu Hong’s signal, Du Shiyi seated himself across from him on a simple mat and replied with a smile, “Master, you overestimate me. Even Thirteen, I shamelessly placed her in the Cui household in the Eastern Capital. At home, I have only an uncle of little influence; how can I not bow for mere subsistence?”

“But your methods are too elaborate,” Lu Hong replied, stroking his beard and then asked directly, “Nineteen, when you first studied under me, you said you wanted to learn history, law, and the art of the examination essay. You’ve been diligent in the first two, and now you have a thorough grasp of history and are well-versed in the law. For the third, you’ve made great progress these last two years, and your essays, if shown to others, would silence any doubters. However, examination essays have set topics and rhyme schemes—widely practiced in private tests, but truly useful only for the Metropolitan Examination. Do you intend to sit for the Jinshi degree?”

Du Shiyi hadn’t expected Lu Hong to broach this matter so directly. After a moment’s silence, he rose slightly and replied, “Yes, Master. I have had this intention since years ago. I can write poetry for the examination, but the constraints of form make it hard to stand out. After years in the mountains, my ambition for fame and fortune has not faded; I cannot devote myself to pure scholarship like Eldest and Third Brother do…”

“I myself never wished for officialdom, but I have never forbidden you from pursuing it. Everyone has their own aspirations; how can one force another?” Lu Hong interrupted with a laugh. “When I met the Emperor this spring, I said as much—that if, in the future, my students produce talents capable of serving the realm and assisting the sovereign, I, as a teacher, would be content. You are diligent and learned. At thirteen, you already showed concern for the people’s suffering; here, you’ve often helped poorer students, lending your hand-copied manuscripts and always ready to discuss and advise. There’s no need for false modesty. If you enter officialdom, you will at least be a benevolent magistrate.”

“Master, if you say any more, I’ll be too embarrassed to stay seated,” Du Shiyi replied with a wry smile. Seeing the boyish grin on Lu Hong’s face, he realized his teacher was teasing him and couldn’t help but laugh helplessly.

But then Lu Hong spoke in a more serious tone, “However, what I’ve taught you regarding the examination essay so far is only suitable for private tests, not for the Jinshi examination. The second session of the Jinshi test is the miscellaneous prose essay. It demands grand themes and lofty expression, with rhyme scheme imposing its own limitations. The rhyme is often taken from an ancient phrase, sometimes in sequence, sometimes not. Your command of history means you can draw upon countless allusions—your greatest advantage. Next year, the essay will likely be the miscellaneous prose; the year after, perhaps poetry. Inscriptions and admonitions haven’t been tested for years. From tomorrow, write an essay every other day. I will review each one with you.”

It was not the first time Lu Hong had instructed him on the essay, but never before had Du Shiyi received such detailed and earnest guidance. He sat upright, listening intently as Lu Hong, drawing on a vast array of references, recounted essay topics from the capital and two neighboring prefectures since the Empress Wu’s reign, recited famous past essays, and dissected their brilliant passages word by word. Du Shiyi was drawn in entirely, discussing structure and phrasing with his teacher, oblivious to the two figures who repeatedly peeked in from outside.

The lesson lasted two full hours. Lu Hong was wholly absorbed; Du Shiyi focused with all his might. At last, Pei Ning, who’d peeked in several times, could contain himself no longer, parted the curtain, and coughed loudly. When neither teacher nor student responded, he raised his voice and coughed again, finally drawing four eyes upon him.

“What time is it?” Lu Hong asked. Just then, Du Shiyi’s stomach rumbled, and they saw that night had fallen completely. Lu Hong burst out laughing, “So absorbed we forgot our hunger—truly, joy makes one forget hunger! Enough for today, Nineteen; let’s first appease our five viscera, and continue in detail the coming days. I have collected many examination essays from the Empress’s time to now—you should copy and study them.”

That dinner came far too late. When, at last, the famished Du Shiyi returned to rest at his hut, he found Lu Wangzhi and Pei Ning waiting at his door.

The moon hung high in the night sky, yet could not outshine the myriad stars. The mountains were now quiet, crickets singing and a cool breeze blowing; many huts were already dark, their occupants exhausted by the day’s study and asleep. From the hut behind Lu Wangzhi, the muffled sounds of Cui Jianxuan’s sleep-talking could just be heard. Lu Wangzhi, robe draped over his shoulders, stood with chest bared, his usually smiling face now unusually solemn. Beside him, Pei Ning’s icy countenance looked colder than ever.

Second Brother Song Shen was the most approachable of them all, humble and kind, but Lu Wangzhi, though appearing easygoing, kept careful account of everything. As for Pei Ning, there was no need to elaborate—among the hundreds in the mountains, nearly all feared him. Confronted with this scene, Du Shiyi could not help but worry, searching his memory for any recent fault, but finding none, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Eldest Brother, Third Brother.”

“Little Brother, greetings!” Lu Wangzhi said cheerfully, but his next question was wholly unexpected. “When do you plan to leave the mountain?”

Du Shiyi was stunned by the question, and Pei Ning shot a displeased look at Lu Wangzhi before saying coolly, “Pay no mind to the Eldest Brother’s words. Little Brother, though you’ve only studied the pipa under me for just over half a year, you are diligent and talented—unlike Eleven, who is all fits and starts. I believe you now surpass the teacher. Today, we heard what Master Lu taught you about the essay. I am not skilled in that, so I have only one thing to give you.”

Accepting the scroll from Pei Ning, Du Shiyi hesitated before opening it. In the moonlight, he saw it was a collection of pipa scores. Immediately, he looked up, only for Pei Ning to continue, still calm, “These are compositions I have collected and written over the years. Since you created a new piece at the Duke of Bi’s banquet, these will be useful to you. Besides, I have little use for them now.”

There was no point in protesting or being modest with Pei Ning—it would only irritate him. So Du Shiyi simply stowed the scores away. As Pei Ning departed without a backward glance, Lu Wangzhi stretched lazily, then said with a half-smile, “Since Master Lu places such hopes in you, you must work all the harder. In time, these few hundred people in the mountains may all rely on you!”

Before Du Shiyi could reply, Lu Wangzhi cheerfully descended the bamboo steps in front of the hut. As he drew level with Du Shiyi, he lowered his voice, “Third Brother has no interest in officialdom. As for me, if I can avoid trouble, Master Lu will count himself lucky. Second and Fourth Brothers come from humble backgrounds and don’t seem keen on government careers. Sixth Brother is moderate in all things. Though the cottage now has imperial recognition, nothing can withstand the changes of politics. Since you have the ambition and Master Lu’s approval, we brothers will do all we can to support you.”

He paused, then continued, “Since the beginning of the Kaiyuan era, various assistant examiners have alternated as supervisors of the annual provincial exam. I have nothing else to offer, but I do know the preferences of these men. For the next two years, it will likely be Li Na. He is not like Pei Yaoqing and others before him—by nature greedy, easily swayed by the powerful. You must beware. But before you ever reach Li Na, you must first pass the capital’s local qualifying exam!”