Nightwatcher

# 315. Imperial Examination Fraud

"Xu Cijiu can’t write poetry for shit. I could randomly scribble a few lines and put him to shame. If it hadn’t been for his cousin Xu Qi’an giving him a poem that day, that Ziyang Scholar’s jade pendant should have been mine."

Zhu Tuizhi muttered bitterly, recalling that day’s unpleasantness.

“Could it be examination fraud?” Liu Jue ventured cautiously.

“Nonsense!” The students from Cloud Deer Academy, outraged, glared at him.

*Examination fraud…* The term flashed in Zhu Tuizhi’s mind, as if suddenly connecting all his doubts, offering a reasonable explanation for why Xu Cijiu could write a masterpiece and claim the title of Huiyuan.

Zhu Tuizhi shook his head. “Impossible. Poetry isn’t like prose—you can’t prepare in advance just by knowing the topic. Brother Liu, if I asked you to compose a masterpiece with ‘Spring Scenery’ as the theme and gave you three days, could you do it?”

Liu Jue shook his head. “Honestly, even three years wouldn’t be enough.”

He took a sip of his wine, then smirked knowingly and lowered his voice. “But think about it, brother Zhu. What if the person who wrote it was Silver Gong Xu Qi’an?”

The table went silent. Neither the students from Cloud Deer Academy nor those from the Imperial Academy refuted it right away; instead, they thought it over.

Yes, if it was Xu the Poet, and if he knew the topic in advance, he could probably write it in a day, let alone three.

The Cloud Deer Academy students remembered the poem Xu Ningyan wrote on “Encouraging Learning,” which reportedly took him ten seconds to compose—a display of astonishing talent.

“Still, how would Silver Gong Xu Qi’an know the topic?” one student from Cloud Deer Academy challenged, though the doubt lingered in his mind.

“Who knows?” Liu Jue waved dismissively. “It was just a drunken guess. But Xu Qi’an is a Silver Gong and well-trusted by Wei Yuan…”

He left his sentence hanging, not pursuing it further.

This remark soured the atmosphere, and the Cloud Deer Academy students soon excused themselves and left the tavern.

A quarter-hour later, Liu Jue returned to a horse carriage parked outside the tavern.

Inside the carriage sat a middle-aged man dressed as a wealthy official, his thumb adorned with a jade ring, absent-mindedly fiddling with a walnut in one hand while holding a teacup in the other.

“Steward Zhao!” Liu Jue greeted him with a respectful bow.

The middle-aged man nodded, then placed his cup down, picked up an inverted tea bowl from the small table, and poured a fresh cup of tea, wrinkling his nose. “You reek of alcohol—have some tea.”

“Thank you, Steward Zhao.” Liu Jue cupped his hands around the bowl, took a sip, then spoke slowly.

“I managed to gather some information. From what those Cloud Deer Academy students said, Xu Cijiu has no real skill in poetry; his talent is miserable. That ‘Ode to the Difficult Road’ was almost certainly ghost-written. Of course, I have no proof.”

The middle-aged man looked pleased, giving a faint smile. “Proof isn’t needed—this is enough.”

…

In the Outer City, inside a courtyard lined with willow trees.

Daoist Jinlian had just taken the “blood-embryo pill” and basked in the warm spring sunlight. He felt his body losing its chill and the tendency toward being a yin spirit receding, though a lingering trace remained. Another pill should be enough to dispel it.

*This body isn’t fully compatible with my primordial spirit and won’t last long. Fortunately, the Golden Lotus of Creation will soon mature. Its seeds can reshape my physical body. I should leave the capital soon.*

He hoped things would go smoothly.

…

“Dalang, that young woman… she doesn’t seem like she’s from the Great Feng.”

Old Zhang’s son, pondering, added, “She’s a dark-skinned girl, sort of unattractive, with blue eyes. And her hair is strange—it has curls.”

*Number Five?!*

*Fuck, what is she doing here? Did Daoist Jinlian send her? Does she know I’m Number Three?*

It was one thing for Daoist Jinlian to ask Xu Qi’an to find Number Five instead of Number Three, as he could excuse it by saying, “Number Three’s rank is too low.” After all, in Confucianism, a scholar’s power doesn’t become impressive until the sixth rank, when they can copy others’ skills.

*It seemed today would be another day of shirking work…* Xu Qi’an nodded and said, “Understood. I’ll apply for leave, then head back to the estate with you.”

After arranging his leave, Xu Qi’an mounted his horse and trotted toward the Xu family estate, with Old Zhang’s son jogging along beside him.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the Xu residence. Xu Qi’an handed the reins to Old Zhang’s son and headed straight inside.

As he entered the outer courtyard, he noticed the cooks carrying steaming plates of hot dishes, steamed buns, and rice toward the inner courtyard.

“Dalang’s back…” The cooks looked relieved, glancing toward the inner courtyard.

“A young lady’s here to see you,” one of them said. “When we asked her how she was related to you, she couldn’t explain clearly. Her accent’s too thick, and we can barely understand one word in ten.”

*One word in ten? Number Five’s Southern Marches accent must be pretty strong…* Xu Qi’an muttered to himself as he followed the cooks to the inner courtyard, where he heard Xu Lingyue’s gentle voice:

“Miss Lina, you’ve come all the way from the Southern Marches to see my big brother?”

“I’m not here to see your big brother. I’m just here to find some friends and wander around…” came a light, melodious voice, thickly accented but pleasant to the ear.

“So you don’t know my big brother?”

“No.”

In a few words, Xu Lingyue had gauged the situation. This girl seemed somewhat dim-witted and clearly had no relation to her brother… Xu Lingyue continued to entertain Lina warmly.

Auntie sat nearby, frowning slightly, scrutinizing Lina with a vaguely hostile gaze.

This foreign girl could really eat—an hour had passed, and she had devoured enough food to feed the family for three days. In silver, that was over ten taels.

And Auntie had specifically asked the cooks to prepare steamed buns and vegetarian dishes. How much would she eat if served meat and fish?

Who could afford a girl like this?

“Miss Lina? What brings you to my household?”

Xu Qi’an stepped across the threshold, eyeing the Southern Marches girl with surprise. Her complexion was notably better than yesterday when she'd looked pale from injury—now her face glowed with a healthy color, her bright eyes hinting that her wounds were mostly healed.

“Daoist Jinlian told me to come find you,” Lina quickly set down her chopsticks, swallowing her food, and looked Xu Qi’an over with frank curiosity. “He said I should stay here during my time in the capital. Thank you, Sir Xu, for saving my life.”

She had originally thought her host would either be Daoist Jinlian himself, or someone like Three, Four, or Six. To her surprise, she found herself staying in the home of an unfamiliar man.

Yesterday’s events had already been explained to her by Daoist Jinlian, so she knew this young Silver Gong with an exceptionally handsome face was her savior. And since he was a trusted friend of the Daoist, she felt she could trust him completely as well.

*She’s calling me Sir Xu, not Three...* Xu Qi’an studied Lina for a moment, but her clear, innocent green eyes betrayed no ulterior motives.

*Why would Daoist Jinlian arrange for her to stay with me? Is there a deeper reason here?*

*That LYB didn’t consult with me beforehand — based on my prior experience dealing with these bastards, if there was prior discussion, it usually meant no hidden agenda;*

*If there wasn’t, there was almost certainly something brewing under the surface.*

So Xu Qi’an asked, “Did the Daoist tell you anything else?”

Lina bit into a bun, speaking with her mouth half-full. “Daoist Jinlian said you were his close friend in the capital, and I should feel at ease staying here.”

Swallowing her bite, she added with a hint of frustration, “Daoist Jinlian said I eat too much and he can’t afford to keep me.”

*Ah…* Xu Qi’an’s face froze for a second. *So the reason she was foisted onto me was simply because she eats too much?*

It was an irrefutable reason. And if he thought about it, neither Six, who was staying at a welfare home, nor Four, who relied on friends’ generosity for food and shelter, could afford to host this ravenous Southern girl either.

*Damn it, being used as the rich guy to mooch off is not pleasant. Life in the jianghu: you either freeload off others or get freeloaded yourself. This is karma...* Xu Qi’an sighed. “I see.”

“Ahem!”

His Aunt gave a loud cough, staking her claim as the mistress of the household.

But Xu Qi’an ignored her, continuing, “Alright, I’ll have someone arrange a room for you right away.”

“Xu Ningyan!!”

His Aunt was screaming with fury, hands on her hips as she stared him down. “I am your Aunt. Don’t you think you should consult with me first?”

Her gaze flickered repeatedly to the messy table, making it clear that this girl was a bottomless pit.

Xu Qi’an hesitated—Aunt had a point. The cost of living in the capital was high, and if this girl ate so much, it would really drain their silver.

Besides, recently, his luck seemed to have shifted. Instead of finding silver, he was now collecting fame, and on top of that, Wei Yuan had docked his pay again.

“Big Brother, don’t forget about the chicken bouillon business.”

Xu Lingyue piped up and presented the numbers to Xu Qi’an. “The Salt Office issued two thousand pounds of salt bonds last year, yielding a profit of five thousand taels, of which you have a ten percent share—five hundred taels. You’ve yet to collect this silver from the Sitianjian.

“I spoke with a clerk at the Salt Office, and the court plans to establish at least ten more workshops to produce chicken bouillon this year. By the end of the year, we’ll see an astronomical profit.”

The “salt bonds” she mentioned actually referred to chicken bouillon. Like salt, chicken bouillon had become a vital strategic asset to the court. Though production had been limited last year, plans to expand this year meant the potential profits were unimaginable.

*How could I forget… That old rascal, the Jianzheng, must have blocked my thoughts of chicken bouillon to trick me out of my share.*

Xu Qi’an realized, much to his delight, that he was effectively becoming this era’s Jack Ma.

Lina didn’t quite understand the specifics, but it all sounded impressive. She’d traveled far to the capital from the Southern Marches and knew how much a single copper coin could buy, as well as the hardship of earning silver.

Unconsciously, she looked over at this “Sir Xu” with admiration in her eyes, the kind of adoration a young girl might have upon seeing a neighbor’s older brother with a flashy hairdo, clad in denim, and dancing in the courtyard.

“How come I didn’t know about this?” Aunt looked skeptical.

“Didn’t you know, Auntie? I asked Lingyue to tell you.” Xu Qi’an turned to his younger sister.

Xu Lingyue looked puzzled. “Perhaps Mother forgot?”

Aunt opened her mouth, unable to respond. She wasn’t sure if she’d forgotten or simply missed hearing about such a massive source of profit.

At this point, Lina looked at Xu Qi’an with admiration and asked, “May I know Sir Xu’s esteemed name?”

It was a turn of phrase she’d picked up while wandering the lands of the Great Feng.

“Xu Qi’an!”

“Xu… Xu Qi’an…” Lina tilted her head, thinking for a moment before suddenly exclaiming, “You’re Xu Qi’an? Weren’t you killed in Yunzhou?!”

Aunt and Xu Lingyue both glanced over, suspicion on their faces.

This foreign girl claimed to know Xu Qi’an, yet was unaware of his “death and resurrection” ordeal. So why exactly had she come to his house?

“Could we speak privately?”

Xu Qi’an led Lina out of the side hall and stopped by a flowerbed. He explained, “I didn’t die; Li Miaozhen made a mistake. In truth, I’m an auxiliary member of the Heaven and Earth Society. Though I don’t possess a fragment of the Earth Book, I’m well-versed in your affairs.”

“That’s why Daoist Jinlian directed me to you.” Lina’s expression brightened, and she smiled. She trusted him instinctively, not questioning his words in the slightest.

*How gullible…* Xu Qi’an said gravely, “It’s a secret. You mustn’t reveal this to anyone, even to other members of the Heaven and Earth Society.”

“Understood!”

Lina smiled sweetly and nodded.

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

*If only everyone were as simple and sincere as Five…* Xu Qi’an sighed as he watched her skipping back, appreciating her pure and carefree nature.

He still had many questions to ask her. For instance, how she knew that he was the one picking up the silver and not some phantom friend.

But there was no rush—straightforward people were usually quite stubborn; if she agreed to keep something secret, she would.

Besides, once she’d eaten at his home for a few more days, her conscience would catch up to her. She’d surely realize that freeloading like this wasn’t quite proper.

…

The Inner Cabinet.

Wearing his crimson robe, Wang Zhenwen bent over his desk, reviewing memos. He had been sitting for four hours, only taking brief trips to the restroom, dedicating all other time to his duties.

The Inner Cabinet functioned as the Emperor’s private secretariat, wielding immense authority, surpassing even the Six Ministries.

Various state memorials, as well as suggestions from commoners, were gathered by the Office of Communications, reviewed by the Directorate of Ceremonies, and then presented to the Emperor, before finally reaching the Inner Cabinet.

The Inner Cabinet would draft a proposed resolution, which the Directorate of Ceremonies would present to the Emperor for a final decision. The resolution would then be checked and distributed by the Six Ministries.

By the reign of Emperor Yuanjing, the Office of Communications directly forwarded memorials to the Inner Cabinet, which drafted resolutions and then handed them to Emperor Yuanjing.

This streamlined process eliminated an additional step.

The reason was simple: Emperor Yuanjing found the extra process disruptive to his pursuit of the Dao.

It was precisely this skipped step that left room for manipulation. With this change, Emperor Yuanjing only saw the memorials the Inner Cabinet allowed him to see.

Though Emperor Yuanjing was not an exemplary ruler, he was skilled in power politics. To curb the excessive power of civil officials and prevent the undermining of imperial authority, he devised a mutually beneficial solution.

This solution was named “Wei Yuan.”

On a grand scale, factions stood in fierce opposition to Wei Yuan’s clique. On a smaller scale, each faction engaged in relentless rivalry.

Emperor Yuanjing stayed aloof, carefully maintaining the balance as he pursued his path of the Dao.

Wang Zhenwen opened the last memorial, pondered over its contents, and then quietly sat in contemplation. After a while, he wrote his recommendation on a slip of paper and attached it to the memorial.

By the time he finished, it was dusk.

…

That evening, Xu Lingyin’s sworn enemy joined the Xu family dinner table.

This “big sister” who just appeared out of nowhere evoked a mixture of affection and resentment in Lingyin; affection because the family’s meals had increased exponentially since her arrival, resentment because she ate far too much…

With her small mouth, Lingyin couldn’t possibly keep up.

Second Uncle Xu, his face darkened, scrutinized Lina and then turned to his nephew. “Is she from the shaman clans of the Southern Marches, the Strength Gu tribe?”

Lina looked up from her bowl, rice grains clinging to her mouth, and replied crisply, “I am from the Strength Gu tribe. How did Uncle Xu know?”

*Who’s your “Uncle”!* Xu Pingzhi snorted coldly.

Back during the Battle of Shanhai Pass, he had personally witnessed the terrifying strength of the barbarians from the Strength Gu tribe, and he knew them well—they ate prodigiously.

A strong strength Gu warrior could consume an entire cow in a day without issue.

In those days, Wei Yuan would never capture or enslave shaman warriors from the Strength Gu tribe; he simply ordered them killed to conserve provisions.

“Big Brother, there’s something I need to tell you,” Xu Xinnian spoke suddenly.

“I figured you did—haven’t seen your brow relax all night. What’s on your mind?” Xu Qi’an replied as he fought Lina for some meat.

“Miss Wang has invited me to go boating tomorrow.” Xu Xinnian’s voice carried a note of suspicion.

“What’s your take on this?” Xu Qi’an asked, deep in thought.

Xu Xinnian let out a dismissive “heh,” set down his chopsticks, and said with disdain, “It’s one of two reasons: either out of personal vengeance to regain face for the Ministry of Justice’s Chief Minister’s niece, or…

“Or Prime Minister Wang doesn’t want to let me off so easily, and has something else up his sleeve.”

“Then which ne do you think it is?” Xu Pingzhi took over the conversation.

Xu Xinnian pondered for a moment, then added with regret, “Although I may one day become a major threat to Prime Minister Wang, it’s unlikely he’d be this fixated on me already. I think it’s Miss Wang trying to stir trouble.”

Hearing this, Xu Lingyue put down her chopsticks, her small face serious. “Second Brother, you’re no good with women. I’ll go with you…”

She quickly glanced at Xu Qi’an and rephrased, “I may not know much about those complicated disputes, but girls understand each other best.”

Xu Xinnian sneered at his little sister’s supposed intelligence. “Who says I have to go? It was Miss Wang who invited me, not Prime Minister Wang. Since I’m an unmarried man and she’s an unmarried woman, going boating together would breach propriety. I’ll just decline.

“In the art of war, if the enemy advances, we retreat. When the odds are against us, we avoid direct confrontation.”

*Not bad. Solid strategy,* Xu Qi’an nodded approvingly. “If you’ve already decided, then why ask me?”

The family continued eating and chatting, enjoying a pleasant atmosphere.

…

The next day, Emperor Yuanjing completed his morning meditation, spent an hour reading scriptures, took his medicine, and rested for the time it takes for incense to burn—a daily routine that marked the end of his morning session.

Only then would he set aside a little time to review memorials, though he wouldn’t spend too long on them, as the Inner Cabinet had already “ticketed” the proposals, and he only needed to add his final seal.

He opened the first memorial, a report from the newly appointed Right Assistant Censor, accusing the Chancellor of the Eastern Pavilion, Zhao Tingfang, of accepting bribes and leaking examination questions to Xu Xinnian, a scholar from Cloud Deer Academy.

The memorial also provided evidence that this scholar’s poems in the county examination were rated fourth class (the lowest being fifth), which was at odds with him composing a masterpiece like *Ode to the Difficult Road*.

At first, Emperor Yuanjing was unfazed. After all, poems weren’t essays; if the exam involved essays, leaking questions would indeed be severe. But with poetry, knowing the topic was one thing; finding a poet capable of excelling at it was another.

However, the memorial went on to note that this scholar happened to have an elder cousin, a Silver Gong in the Nightwatcher’s Constabulary, named Xu Qi’an.

And as everyone knew, Xu Qi’an was the Great Poet of Feng.

Reading this, Emperor Yuanjing’s eyes sharpened, though he refrained from commenting. He then removed the Inner Cabinet’s “ticket” and read their suggestion:

“The imperial examinations are the court’s method of selecting talents and should be treated with utmost seriousness. Cheating in the imperial examinations is intolerable. We hope His Majesty will investigate rigorously.”

Emperor Yuanjing pondered for a moment before dipping his brush and affixing his red seal.