Great Nation, Small Freshness (Imperial Examination) - Chapter 13

13: First Display of Talent (Part 3)

Magistrate Zhou could not be bothered with the others. He beckoned directly to Qin Fanghe. “You, come here.”

It really was a child.

An actual child.

And so young.

He wore a wrinkled cyan coarse-cloth padded jacket, one glance was enough to tell his family was far from well-off.

Yet his complexion was rosy, his eyes bright and spirited, his back straight as a ramrod—he looked every inch an upright, proper good boy.

Like a straight young sapling, Magistrate Zhou thought to himself.

He seemed even a few years younger than his own grandson.

So young… He couldn’t help sighing again.

If the boy had come from a scholarly family, it would have made sense—after all, being steeped in learning from infancy naturally set one above the common run.

But this child was clearly poor, forget hiring famous tutors, even buying a complete set of books would have been difficult. For him to produce such poetry was truly astonishing.

After all, as the saying went, it is hard for a poor family to produce a noble son.

Magistrate Zhou’s voice unconsciously softened. “What poem did you just write? What allusions did you use?”

He asked these questions because Qin Fanghe was simply too young, he feared someone might have coached the boy or written it for him.

Every person in the hall was staring in their direction, countless gazes pressed down like physical weight.

The room was so quiet one could hear a needle drop. An ordinary person—let alone a child—would have been paralyzed with nerves under such scrutiny.

Yet Qin Fanghe remained perfectly composed. He looked at the spot between Magistrate Zhou’s brows and answered every question calmly and clearly.

When speaking to someone, looking them straight in the eye-to-eye was basic courtesy, but staring directly into the eyes could seem overly aggressive and make the other party uncomfortable. The space between the brows was therefore the best choice: the gaze was focused yet relaxed, measured and appropriate.

Seeing that the boy was fair-skinned and handsome, quick-witted in appearance, and moreover perfectly poised in manner, Magistrate Zhou felt three parts more fondness. He asked again why the boy had thought to write about Jiangnan. “Have you ever been there?”

Qin Fanghe shook his head. “This commoner’s family is poor, I have never been. I only read about it in travel stories and guidebooks.”

“From the way you speak, one can tell you have truly studied properly. Who was your teacher?”

“My late father was a xiucai (scholar). He personally enlightened me in my studies.”

Magistrate Zhou asked the father’s name, Qin Fanghe answered.

Upon hearing it, the magistrate repeatedly sighed what a pity it was.

He had only been in Zhang County for two years and naturally did not remember some obscure rural xiucai. But seeing how intelligent and quick his son was, perhaps the boy might achieve something in the future. It really was a pity that the father had not lived to see it.

“Since you were enlightened and can compose such fine poetry, you must have read a great many books. Name a few for me.” When speaking to children—especially bright and sensible ones—people are always gentler. The magistrate’s words carried a faint note of guidance.

If the boy turned out to be the sort who liked to boast, in the future he could brag without shame: “County Magistrate personally instructed me,” and no one would dare look down on him.

After thinking for a moment, Qin Fanghe answered cautiously, “I truly have not read anything else. My father always said that when learning to read, one must stick to the orthodox classics and never let miscellaneous books corrupt the mind. So this commoner only memorized the words of the Sages. As for travel accounts and the like, I read them only in idle hours to broaden my horizons.”

He had just admitted that his poem “Four Seasons” drew inspiration from travel writings, so naturally he could not deny it now. Yet such books were never considered orthodox, when Magistrate Zhou heard the title earlier, there had been a flicker of displeasure. Qin Fanghe naturally had to steer around that.

All the officials present nodded, finding his words most reasonable.

Magistrate Zhou stroked his beard and smiled. Suddenly he asked, “‘Serving as an official is not for the sake of escaping poverty’—what comes next?”

Qin Fanghe’s heart stirred. The following line instantly appeared in his mind, and he answered fluently, “It is a line from Mencius. The rest is ‘yet there are times when one does it because of poverty.’”

“What is the meaning?”

“It means that becoming an official is not originally for the purpose of escaping poverty, yet sometimes one truly does it for the sake of livelihood.”

Admiration shone even brighter in Magistrate Zhou’s eyes, his tone grew gentler still. “It is remarkable that at such a young age you already understand so deeply. Since you have memorized it, you must keep it in your heart forever and never stray from the proper path.”

Qin Fanghe bowed respectfully. “Yes, many thanks for Your Honor’s guidance.”

It was no random quotation. Those two lines perfectly matched Qin Fanghe’s present circumstances. The magistrate had raised them deliberately—first to test his learning, and second out of pity for his talent, to warn him that if fortune smiled on him in the future, he must never let wealth and status blind him or lose the true heart of a scholar.

Thinking how young the boy was, orphaned and poor, yet so steady and dignified, Magistrate Zhou could not help sighing with emotion for a long time and gave him heartfelt encouragement.

The world loves a brilliant youth. After finishing with Qin Fanghe, the magistrate publicly praised Kong Ziqing as well. The latter was impeccably courteous and most pleasing to behold.

So his name was Kong Ziqing. Qin Fanghe stole a few more glances and discovered the other boy was looking at him too. He instinctively smiled back.

Kong Ziqing started, then quickly turned his face away.

Qin Fanghe: “…”

Hey!

Because Lord Kong was present—whose seniority and learning far surpassed Magistrate Zhou’s own—if he had examined Kong Ziqing the same way he had examined Qin Fanghe, it would have seemed like showing off one’s slight skill before an expert. Therefore he only asked a few perfunctory questions and let it go.

The most fearful thing in any matter is comparison. With these two pearls placed in front, when the remaining contestants—many of them with long grey beards—stepped forward, not only did Magistrate Zhou and the others lose interest, even the contestants themselves felt rather deflated.

They might not measure up in learning, and in poise and bearing they inevitably appeared nervous and awkward.

What rotten luck…

Magistrate Zhou nevertheless delivered the appropriate encouraging remarks, then ordered someone to bring the finest Four Treasures of the Study and two sets of anthologies lately arrived from the prefectural city for the six winners.

Since Qin Fanghe and Kong Ziqing were still children, the magistrate showed open favoritism and gave each of them an additional large red tasselled purse embroidered with gold thread. Kindly he said, “You must continue to study diligently and never slack off. If the chance arises, you should naturally strive for examination success and serve the court—only thus will you not betray the vast grace of the Emperor.”

As he spoke, he cupped his hands toward the direction of the capital in a gesture of respect.

Qin Fanghe and Kong Ziqing answered in unison that they would.

Afterward the crowd gradually dispersed. Kong Ziqing returned to sit beside his grandfather, appearing somewhat distracted.

A little later, seeing that Magistrate Zhou and the others were once more occupied with conversation and no longer paying attention this way, Kong Ziqing quietly rose and walked to the window facing the street to look down.

By chance Qin Fanghe was laughing and talking with the Qin Hai brothers below, showing them the prizes he had just received. Suddenly sensing something, he looked up and met Kong Ziqing’s gaze directly.

Both boys were startled.

Qin Fanghe recovered first. He seemed to be in quite a good mood and lightly waved at him, then left together with Qin Hai and Qin Shan.

Kong Ziqing stood stunned for a moment. The fingers hanging at his side curled a few times, but in the end he did not move.

“Did you recognize someone?” Noticing Qin Fanghe’s wave, Qin Hai asked.

“Everyone inside is either rich or noble—how could I know any of them?” Qin Fanghe laughed. “It’s getting late, let’s head home!”

They had merely seen each other, they had not exchanged a single word. Naturally that did not count as “knowing” someone.

Qin Shan turned to look as well, but the windows were already empty. He paid it no mind and was soon overtaken by even greater excitement:

Heavens above—Brother He had actually stood right in front of the county magistrate himself!

Unbelievable!

He still felt like he was dreaming.

They had wanted to thank the old woman and others who had helped earlier, but the surging crowd made it impossible to find anyone, many had already left their spots. They could only give up.

As the three squeezed out of the mid-street throng, they vaguely heard someone behind them shouting something, but with all the tourists around the noise was too great and they couldn’t make it out clearly. They decided to ignore it.

Qin Hai protected the two younger boys and pushed straight out onto a less crowded street ahead, finally letting out a breath of relief.

Good heavens, so many people—he had broken into a sweat despite the freezing weather.

They were just about to fetch the ox cart when someone pointed behind them and said, “Hey, looks like someone’s calling you!”

The three turned together and saw, threading unsteadily through the crowd, a plump figure in a ginger-yellow cotton robe with wan characters that had been rumpled by the press of bodies.

It was Mr. Sun from the Bai family bookshop in town.

He was not fond of rushing about and was rather stout, having shouted himself hoarse chasing them all this way, he was truly exhausted. He stood with hands on hips catching his breath for a long while before he could speak: “I—I say, isn’t this young Master Qin?”

“Mr. Sun!” Qin Shan cried in pleasant surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Qin Fanghe said to Qin Hai, “Big Brother, this is Mr. Sun from the bookshop.”

Qin Hai remembered now, but was puzzled. “Since when are you two so close?”

Giving away oranges for free was one thing, but chasing across a crowded street just to talk?

Qin Fanghe: “…I’ve been there a few times, Mr. Sun is very hospitable.”

On the subject of studying and advancement, Qin Hai was rather conservative. If he learned that Qin Fanghe was writing storybooks for money, he would surely get a scolding. Better to keep it secret.

Qin Hai: “…”

Hospitable?

With the way that shop had only a handful of customers all day—like scattered sheep droppings?

Mr. Sun sighed at Qin Fanghe: “I was sitting in the teahouse right across from the restaurant just now and saw everything clearly. Never imagined you possessed such courage and talent…”

When Qin Fanghe had gone inside, Mr. Sun had only seen his back and hadn’t been sure. It was only when the boy came out and he saw the face clearly that he was certain. He had been both shocked and delighted.

Mr. Sun stepped closer, praised him a few more times, then smiled and said, “I know you need to get home, so I won’t keep you. But it’s rare for you to come to the county, and it’s almost New Year—I must play host. Wait just a moment.”

With that he ducked into a still-open pastry shop on the street. Soon he returned carrying six paper parcels.

“This place is an old, established shop in the county. The owner lives in the courtyard right behind, so they haven’t closed yet.” He pointed at each parcel in turn: “Honey-fried peach strips, salt-cured olives, a packet of peach crisps, a packet of milk cakes, a strip of sesame brittle, and two sticks of candied melon. Take them home to eat.”

Originally he had only pitied the orphaned boy’s hardship and admired his intelligence and learning, thinking to lend a small hand. But now that the boy had stood before the county magistrate himself and earned praise, Mr. Sun naturally thought further ahead:

If this youth truly made something of himself one day, he would have another path open to him. Even running errands for an official would be better than barely selling a single book in half a year in that little town!

Sending some sweets was perfect: it fulfilled the duties of a host, suited both their ages and stations, and did not appear overly calculated. Wonderful.

Everything was honey or sugar—altogether worth at least one tael of silver, truly generous. Qin Fanghe declined several times, but when he saw Mr. Sun growing displeased he accepted.

“Very well. Let me wish you an early Happy New Year. In the future I may visit the bookshop again—at that time I’ll thank you properly.”

Hearing this, Mr. Sun grew happy once more.

On the road home, Qin Fanghe looked at the pile of sweets and couldn’t help chuckling.

He really was a businessman after all—kind and decent, yes, but at the critical moment he never missed a single opportunity.

When it came down to it, the two of them were rather similar.