◎What Makes the Imperial Exam So Irresistible◎
As honorary clan leader, Chen Laoye naturally had to raise his glass and speak at such an occasion, recounting family history—although the Southern Chen Family had repeatedly failed the imperial exams for generations, they remained undiscouraged, persistently upholding the tradition of scholarly education. After several generations, someone had finally reached the Xiang Examination stage. He expressed hope that Chen Yan would break from ancestral traditions and achieve excellent results, and so on.
The clanspeople erupted into enthusiastic applause, raising their glasses together to wish Chen Yan success in “Plucking Cassia in the Lunar Palace.”
Ping’an watched as his father tirelessly socialized with relatives without having eaten much breakfast, silently packing a box of Number One Scholar Cake for A Xiang to sustain him during his journey.
Chen Yan found a moment to pull Ping’an aside, instructing him: “Listen to Mother at home, don’t be mischievous.”
Ping’an nodded blankly.
Another round of crackling firecrackers sounded as a group of clanspeople competed to help carry belongings, eagerly seeing Chen Yan off.
Amidst the sounds of gongs, drums, and firecrackers, the carriage slowly departed from Chen Family Alley.
Ping’an felt unsettled in his heart. He had truly done his best—if his father still managed to pass the exam, he would simply have to devise another plan.
The relatives lingered without dispersing, gathering in the courtyard to chat. Cao Mama searched everywhere for him with A Man and Xiao Fulu, finally finding him and sighing with relief: “An Ge’er, there are many people at home today, don’t wander off.”
“A-ma, I won’t wander off,” Ping’an said. “We’re going to play in the east wing.”
Cao Mama smiled: “Such a good boy. You didn’t eat enough this morning, did you? A-ma made some red bean rice cake and will bring it to you right away.”
Ping’an nodded, pulling A Man and Xiao Fulu as they ran into the east wing. He only closed the door after A Ji slipped in through the crack.
“An Ge’er, why do you seem so preoccupied today?” A Man asked.
Ping’an opened several packages of candied fruit, spreading them out on the carpet, channeling his emotions into appetite.
A Man also ate a few pieces of candied fruit before looking around the room: “An Ge’er, have you noticed many things are missing from this room?”
Ping’an also became alert and looked around.
This wing was intended to be his future room, though currently he still slept with his parents. Mother had carpenters build two rows of L-shaped low cabinets to store his toys and laid down carpet for him to roll and crawl around freely. Without beds, tables, or chairs, it served as his “playroom.”
He first noticed the rocking horse in the corner and the sword on the wall were gone, then discovered many empty spaces in the toy cabinets. His Cuju ball, Tiger-Head Pillow, little purse, Nine Interlocking Rings… even his favorite cricket jar had disappeared. “Black General” had been trapped under an inverted lamp saucer, chirping weakly.
Ping’an nearly jumped up—who had raided his headquarters and stolen all his most treasured possessions?!
He searched the entire room with A Man, Xiao Fulu, and even A Ji. When they found nothing inside, they checked the woodshed, kitchen, study, front courtyard, main courtyard, west courtyard… turning over every possible place without finding a single item.
Lin Yuebai deliberately asked him: “What are you looking for?”
Ping’an shook his head fiercely with his hands clasped behind his back: “No… nothing.”
He didn’t dare provoke Mother’s displeasure, only venturing to seek comfort from his grandfather.
“It must have been my father who hid them, and Mother was probably an accomplice too,” Ping’an muttered, chin in hand. “They’re giving me a taste of my own medicine.”
Chen Laoye exclaimed delightedly: “Good grandson, you can already use such complex idioms?!”
Ping’an’s face flushed with frustration—that wasn’t the point at all…
“Why do you always provoke them? Even a rabbit will bite when cornered.” Chen Laoye added, “Of course, I’m not saying your parents are rabbits.”
Seeing Ping’an so distraught over his missing toys that he’d lost his appetite, Chen Laoye continued, “They’re just a few toys. We can buy new ones.”
“But they won’t be the same ones.” Ping’an sat on the windowsill, chin propped in his hands.
Among several chests of toys, the ones missing happened to be the most precious: the Cuju ball woven by his grandfather, the cricket cage made by his father, the Tiger-Head Pillow sewn by his grandmother, and the little purse embroidered by his mother. Most importantly, that purse contained a stack of silver notes – four years’ worth of New Year’s money he’d saved, his entire fortune reserved for future travels.
“Each silver note was saved individually, they held special meaning,” Ping’an emphasized.
“How much was it? Your grandfather will compensate you,” Chen Laoye said generously.
“Guess.”
“Fifty taels?”
Ping’an’s eyes widened.
“Eighty taels?”
Ping’an was speechless.
“One hundred taels? My dear grandson, that’s the limit. Your grandfather’s private savings aren’t plentiful either.”
“That’s more than enough! It’s even extra!” Ping’an exclaimed.
In truth, his four years of pocket money added up to less than sixteen taels, which he already considered a huge sum. One hundred taels was beyond his wildest dreams.
Chen Laoye actually dug out a fifty-tael silver note from beneath a flowerpot, and finding it insufficient, produced another fifty taels from a hidden compartment in his birdcage.
Handing them to Ping’an, he advised, “Take these back and store them properly. Don’t spend them recklessly.”
Ping’an nodded like a chick pecking rice – so miracles did happen!
Overjoyed, he carefully stored the fortune in a small box under his pillow, forgetting all about searching for his missing toys. That night, he dreamed of counting money.
But the next day, the silver notes had vanished too!
In his panic, Ping’an realized the seriousness of the situation. This probably wasn’t Old Dad’s doing alone – it must be a group operation!
A Man analyzed for him: “They sent the Old Master to give you a large sum first, then made you experience the pain of losing it after gaining it.”
Ping’an had an epiphany: “I knew there were no free lunches in this world.”
“But An Ge’er,” A Man persuaded, “the Master and Mistress treat you so well, and the Old Master and Old Mistress are good to you too. I remember when my father was alive, he always called me a worthless girl. Later, my mother finally gave birth to a brother, but he died, forcing my mother to become a wet nurse. My brother nearly starved to death under my grandparents’ care.”
Hearing about A Man and her brother’s suffering, Ping’an felt a pang of sadness. After a moment, he collected himself: “But I’m truly doing this for his own good.”
A Man completely failed to understand Ping’an’s logic.
With utmost seriousness, Ping’an declared: “Let me tell you, most high-ranking officials meet terrible ends.”
“Impossible,” A Man said. “Look at the County Yamen’s great official going out – carried in a green sedan chair, preceded by seven gong strikes, with blue flags, blue umbrellas, and ceremonial tablets. What grandeur!”
“A county magistrate is barely ranked,” Ping’an said. “I’m talking about high officials, the highest officials.”
A Man laughed, revealing two rows of uneven little white teeth: “The highest official must be the Prime Minister.”
“Exactly.”
A Man mused excitedly, “That would be wonderful! If the young master becomes prime minister, I’ll beg him… to let women take the Imperial Exam too. I also want to study, take exams, and become a high official.”
Upon hearing this, Ping’an collapsed onto the bed in agony—what made the Imperial Exam such a coveted prize that it fascinated people so much?!
…
The Xiang Examination spanned nine days and six nights with three sessions, the third of which coincided with the Mid-Autumn Festival. Chen Yan’s absence made the home feel even more desolate.
Old Master Chen personally taught Ping’an how to use the crab eating tools to dismantle a crab, picking out the snow-white meat into a small dish to dip in ginger-vinegar sauce, and then showing him how to reassemble the empty shells back into the shape of a complete crab.
Ping’an let out a big yawn.
Just then, Mother suddenly suggested taking him to the provincial capital the day after tomorrow.
Ping’an’s eyes lit up at the prospect of visiting the provincial capital: “Really?”
“Really, we’ll go together to the Gongyuan to pick up Father from the exam hall,” Lin Yuebai said.
Ping’an had never seen what the Gongyuan looked like. This place that all scholars in the world flocked to must be very impressive.
Finally, they looked forward to the eighteenth day of the seventh month, the day the third session of the Xiang Examination ended.
They set off early in the morning, found the inn where Chen Yan was staying in the provincial capital, and A Xiang led them to Chen Yan’s quarters—a quiet, independent courtyard. After the mother and son settled in and Ping’an took a nap, they headed to the Gongyuan to fetch Old Dad.
Examinees emerged one after another. The severely exhausted Students stumbled out of the Gongyuan as if their souls had left their bodies, each unkempt and bearded.
Ping’an witnessed someone staring blankly at the glaring sun for a moment before collapsing straight down with a thud, drawing a crowd of onlookers.
Family members shouted to clear the way and rushed him to a doctor.
Ping’an nervously grabbed Mother’s hand: “Mother, what happened to him!”
“He’s too tired and fainted,” Lin Yuebai said.
“How can someone get so tired they faint?”
Lin Yuebai held his small hand and explained, “The Xiang Examination has three consecutive sessions, each lasting three days and two nights. They eat, sleep, and answer questions in a tiny Examination Cell. These scholars have studied tirelessly for ten years, day and night, and being confined for nine days and six nights in the exam hall naturally takes a toll on their health. Even so, only a very few can pass the provincial exam, let alone the metropolitan exam.”
Ping’an was silent for a long time: “My father is so thin and eats so little. Can he endure it?”
“You know to worry about him, so why…”
Before Lin Yuebai could finish, she saw Ping’an darting toward a familiar figure.
“Father!”
Chen Yan dropped his Examination Basket and caught him in his arms.