On the fourth day of the second lunar month, young scholars braved the lingering chill of spring. At the first crow of the rooster and the faint glow through the window, they were already up reading.
Early morning was the best time for memorization.
Pei Shaohuai’s memory was decent, but not as remarkable as his younger brother’s, who could recite a text perfectly after reading it aloud just a few times. So every day, while it was still dim, he would rise, light a lamp, and chant the classics.
Over time, this became a habit. Even with the county exam the next day, he did not slack off.
Changzhou, sleeping in the adjoining room, heard movement and quickly got up to bring hot water. “Young master, the exam is tomorrow—I thought you might rest a bit more.”
After washing, Pei Shaohuai replied, “Since the exam is not today, it is no different from any other day. One must not grow lazy by making excuses—once you start, it won’t stop.”
He then took out the collection of model essays his teacher had given him and began reading—not to memorize, but to get into the mindset of writing.
After breakfast, Yingjie and Zhujie each brought the two brothers a delicate hand warmer. Yingjie said, “Spring is damp and cold, and the examination halls are windy. Take these with you—burn some silver-frost charcoal inside, and you’ll stay warm.”
She pointed to the finely sewn cloth covers. “I didn’t make these—your sister Zhu stitched them by hand so they fit perfectly. They’ll keep your hands warm without overheating.”
Zhujie quickly added, “Don’t listen to her modesty. She went to many shops to pick out the braziers, and even traded with the Cao family for the charcoal. I only did a bit of sewing.”
The brothers thanked them sincerely.
Pei Shaojin said, “Fourth Sister is always so thoughtful—cool drinks in summer, warm braziers in spring and winter.”
Since the sisters could not accompany them the next day, they offered their blessings in advance, wishing them success.
That afternoon, Lianjie also returned to the Earl’s residence. Madam Lin came out to greet her. “Everything’s already prepared. Why trouble yourself to come?”
“This is an important matter,” Lianjie replied. “I finished my duties at the Xu household before coming. Yancheng even asked me to pass along that he misses his two uncles dearly.”
Madam Lin laughed. “The three of them are very close.”
They spoke a while longer. Although their father could not return, he had already written to encourage them. The old matriarch had been praying daily for their success.
The entire family placed great importance on this examination.
…
That night, during the fourth watch, the night watchmen called out while striking their gongs: “Candidates for the county exam—set out early!”
Soon after, the county office fired a signal cannon, like thunder in the night, urging those far away to depart.
At the Earl’s residence, after checking their belongings, the carriage set off. The old master personally escorted his grandsons.
Inside the carriage, Shaojin, being younger, looked nervous. “Brother, I’m a bit anxious.”
Pei Shaohuai asked calmly, “Can you recite the Four Books and Five Classics?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember the essay techniques the master taught?”
“Yes.”
“And the regulated poems you practiced?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just like writing on an ordinary day.”
Hearing this, Shaojin gradually relaxed.
…
The examination compound lay in the southeast corner of the city, surrounded by high walls and paved in blue brick—impressive in scale.
Before dawn, the streets leading there were brightly lit. Carriages arrived one after another, bringing candidates—most between twelve and seventeen, dressed in fine clothes. There were also poorer students walking in groups.
Half a mile from the gates, carriages were stopped. The brothers got down and soon met Xu Yancheng, who, unlike Shaojin, seemed excited rather than nervous.
As they walked, someone called out, “Yancheng, little brother!”
It was a well-dressed boy of about twelve or thirteen.
Xu Yancheng turned with a smile. “Brother Qingyuan, long time no see.”
After brief introductions, the boy—Zhan Qingyuan—learned they all studied under Master Duan. His expression dimmed slightly.
After he left, Xu Yancheng explained that Zhan Qingyuan had once sought to study under their master but had been rejected.
“Why?” Pei Shaohuai asked.
“He’s capable,” Xu Yancheng said, “but the master dislikes how he treats learning as a means of comparison.”
They soon forgot about it.
At the gates, after presenting their permits and undergoing thorough searches, their names were called, and they were admitted.
Inside, a supervising scholar confirmed their guarantor, and they finally entered.
They found their seats and arranged their materials. The morning chill bit at their hands, so Pei Shaohuai lit the charcoal in his hand warmer—it helped immediately.
Looking up, he saw the county magistrate, Shen Fei, seated on a high platform, overseeing the hall.
…
The first session of the county exam—the most important—began at dawn.
After a gong sounded, answer sheets were distributed. The questions were displayed on boards carried through the hall.
There were three questions:
Two essays based on the Four Books, and one regulated poem.
The questions read:
“Without rules, nothing can be accomplished.”
“The gentleman reflects on nine matters.”
Pei Shaohuai copied them down and began planning.
The first topic came from Mencius, emphasizing the importance of rules. It was a standard theme—nothing novel—so excellence would lie in elegant writing and references.
He drafted his opening line:
“Even those not endowed with great insight or skill cannot do without rules.”
He carefully structured the essay, refining each line.
Though the county exam was merely an entry-level test, he did not lower his standards.
After finishing the essays, he turned to the poem. The prompt was:
“Yellow flowers scattered like gold.”
His heart stirred—this was exactly what their teacher had once explained during a spring outing, referring to rapeseed blossoms.
Those who mistook it for chrysanthemums would miss the point.
After some thought, he wrote:
“Small blooms need no crimson to adorn,
One alone less fair than fields in throng.
No need for beauty to charm the world—
Even the countryside holds its spring.”
Titled “Yellow Flowers.”
By midday, he had completed all drafts and calmly ate before copying them neatly onto the final sheet, writing each character with care.
Excellence, after all, lay in perfection at every step.
In the afternoon, the first group of candidates submitted early and left. Pei Shaohuai spotted Xu Yancheng among them.
Since he had just finished copying, he chose to review his work carefully and submit later.
…
Outside, Xu Yancheng waited for his friends—and ran into Zhan Qingyuan again.
Zhan Qingyuan said proudly, “I had practiced both essay topics before.”
“Congratulations,” Xu Yancheng replied politely.
Then came the question: “How did your two junior brothers do?”
Xu Yancheng paused, then said honestly,
“Don’t get too close to them. Being near them will make your own learning seem… quite inadequate.”
Zhan Qingyuan misunderstood completely.
“Oh—I see,” he said. “So they’re that poor? Then why would Master Duan accept them? Truly puzzling.”