Chapter Twenty: Pulling Up the Ladder

A few days later, the court officially announced that Zhao Guangyi would serve as the chief examiner for this year’s provincial examinations. Alongside him, Zhao Dezhao was named deputy chief examiner. Also appointed as deputy examiners for this session were Minister of Rites Yang Zhaojian, Hanlin Academician Wang Hu, and Wang Yisun, the Right Supervisor of the Department of State Affairs and a member of Zhao Pu’s faction.

As for the examination venue, since this was Zhao Guangyi’s first time presiding over the provincial exams and he was determined to select capable talents for his own use, he petitioned to use the Qisheng Academy—the institution dedicated to Confucius—as the examination hall, seeking a more dignified setting. Zhao Kuangyin readily approved the request.

Zhao Kuangyin clearly attached great importance to this provincial exam. In court, he directly issued an order to Yang Xin, the mute Commander of the Imperial Guards, demanding that he select capable and efficient elite troops to guard the exam site, strictly forbidding any incidents. Though unable to speak, Yang Xin repeatedly cupped his hands in assent, his expression resolute.

On the surface, Zhao Guangyi maintained a smile, seeming quite satisfied with these arrangements. However, after court adjourned and he returned to the Kaifeng prefecture with only a small circle of trusted confidants—Chen Congxin, Yao Shu, and Dou Cheng—he let out a cold laugh and said, “My elder brother’s arrangements grow increasingly cautious. Not only does he have his own son watching me, but he also appointed Wang Yisun, the eldest son of Wang Pu, as a deputy examiner, allowing Zhao Pu’s faction to meddle in this examination.”

“Your Highness, you must also be cautious of Yang Zhaojian and Wang Hu,” Dou Cheng carefully warned. “Though they are not Zhao Gonggong’s men, they are not ours either. Should anything go wrong, they will neither assist us nor hesitate to side with the Crown Prince, seizing the opportunity to curry favor with the imperial court behind him.”

Zhao Guangyi nodded slowly, acknowledging the possibility. He then pondered aloud, “I have a plan. What do you think? When His Majesty approved my appointment as the head of the examination, he emphasized strictly preventing candidates from using proxies to cheat, a chronic issue plaguing our imperial exams that has long vexed previous exam heads. So, I’m thinking of delegating this responsibility to Dezhao. What say you?”

He quickly added, “Of course, not to Dezhao alone. Yang Zhaojian would lead him in verifying candidates’ identities and origins.”

“Your Highness, I must strongly oppose!” Yao Shu spoke without hesitation. “Due to years of war and frequent changes in household registrations, coupled with the long distances candidates travel, verifying identities is extremely difficult. Almost every provincial exam witnesses instances of proxy candidates. The emperor’s special mention of this problem when appointing you shows how seriously he takes it and how deeply it troubles him.”

After analyzing Zhao Kuangyin’s stance, Yao Shu continued, “If, under such circumstances, you deliberately shirk this thorny responsibility and push it onto the Crown Prince, His Majesty will be displeased, and your reputation will suffer greatly.”

Chen Congxin and Dou Cheng quickly agreed, all opposing Zhao Guangyi’s plan to offload this hot potato, already under the emperor’s scrutiny, onto Zhao Dezhao. Zhao Guangyi frowned and said, “Though you have a point, how else can we prevent proxy candidates? If this matter goes awry, I won’t be able to explain it to His Majesty.”

“Your Highness, we can only do our best,” Dou Cheng suggested. “Proxy candidates have plagued the exams since the Tang dynasty, defying all bans. Previous examiners have been helpless to stop it. So, I think we should not strive for perfection but simply do our utmost to identify suspect candidates. The emperor will surely understand your difficulties.”

The imperial examination system was far from the perfection it would achieve in later dynasties. Despite their efforts, they could not devise a foolproof method to eliminate proxy candidates. Zhao Guangyi sighed in resignation and said, “Then we shall proceed this way: assign experienced officials to assist in scrutinizing candidates, observing their behavior closely to root out imposters as best we can.”

Dou Cheng and Yao Shu readily agreed. Yet Chen Congxin, Zhao Guangyi’s chief strategist, suddenly spoke, “Your Highness, while the troublesome task of verifying candidate identities should not be passed to the Crown Prince, I believe you could assign him another difficult duty.”

“What duty?” Zhao Guangyi immediately asked.

“Overseeing communication between candidates and the outside world,” Chen Congxin said in a low voice. “According to our laws, once candidates enter the examination hall, if they need to send messages to their families or require writing materials, food, or clothing, they can have servants relay these through the door. Many opportunistic candidates exploit this to bribe attendants and smuggle prohibited items into the exam…”

“Brilliant!”

Before Chen Congxin finished, Yao Shu and Dou Cheng applauded enthusiastically. “Excellent idea, Master Siqi! Corrupt exam officials accepting bribes to smuggle contraband into the exam hall is even harder to prevent than proxy candidates. Assigning this task to the Crown Prince means any slip-up will be his responsibility.”

Lately, Zhao Guangyi had grown increasingly displeased with his unscrupulous nephew. Hearing this, he smiled broadly and said lightly, “So be it. I hope my nephew will do his utmost to eradicate this persistent evil from the provincial exams.”

Having settled on this plan, the provincial exam quickly arrived. On the afternoon of the eighth day of the fifth lunar month, Zhao Guangyi and deputy examiners Yang Zhaojian and others gathered at the Qisheng Academy to prepare for the opening of the Wuchen-year provincial exam of the Kai Bao era. Zhao Dezhao, adhering to contemporary exam protocols, brought only one attendant, Wang Zhifa, to participate in the three-day, two-night examination as a deputy examiner.

Once all examiners assembled, Zhao Guangyi, accompanied by Chen Congxin, addressed the assembly, expressing gratitude for his brother Zhao Kuangyin’s trust in appointing him and the deputies to oversee this crucial talent selection ceremony. He urged the deputies to monitor the exams strictly, guard against all cheating, and help the court select truly capable individuals.

After this, Zhao Guangyi suddenly shifted tone and smiled at his nephew Zhao Dezhao, saying, “Dezhao, as the deputy chief examiner appointed by His Majesty, I plan to entrust you with an important responsibility. I hope you will carry it out flawlessly and bring honor to our Zhao family.”

“May I ask, uncle, what responsibility?” Zhao Dezhao calmly inquired.

“Supervising all communication between candidates and the outside,” Zhao Guangyi replied casually. “After the gates close, any messages candidates wish to send to their families or any items brought from outside must be monitored by you, ensuring no prohibited materials sneak inside.”

Before Zhao Guangyi finished, Yang Zhaojian, Wang Hu, and Wang Yisun exchanged knowing glances, inwardly pleased. “Good,” they thought. “The Crown Prince has this thankless task, so it’s none of our concern. Preventing bribed exam officials from smuggling contraband? Dream on. Those slippery officials will find every trick in the book to make money.”

With a seasoned official like Liang Zhouhan as advisor, Zhao Dezhao was well aware of the various exam abuses of the era. Hearing his uncle’s trap, he did not hesitate. “Uncle, forgive me, but I am unworthy of such a heavy responsibility. I humbly request that this duty be shared by all examiners.”

“Why so modest, nephew? Such a minor task hardly requires everyone to share it,” Zhao Guangyi smiled.

“Uncle, I do not seek to shirk, but it is beyond my capacity,” Zhao Dezhao replied earnestly. “The provincial exam lasts three days and two nights. If I alone bear this duty, I will have no chance to rest. As a mortal, how could I sustain vigilance throughout without error?”

Seeing his nephew would not be ensnared, Zhao Guangyi relented. After swift consideration, he said, “You have a point. Then let it be this way: you will oversee the prohibited items checks during the two nights, allowing yourself rest during the day. Daytime inspections will be rotated among the other examiners.”

He added firmly, “You are young and vigorous, able to endure the night watches. No more excuses—this is decided.”

As both junior and deputy, Zhao Dezhao had no choice but to nod obediently. “I accept the order.”

Zhao Guangyi grunted in reluctant satisfaction, then produced a sealed scroll from his sleeve. Placing it before Confucius’s tablet, he said, “These are the exam questions I personally composed. They shall be offered to the Master overnight and publicly announced after the candidates have arrived this evening, so that everyone may answer them tomorrow morning.”

At last, Zhao Dezhao’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Yet, after a moment’s reflection, he clenched his teeth and forced himself to remain calm, thinking, “Stay calm. The questions have not yet been officially released. My Uncle Che Shen still has a chance to intervene. I must wait patiently for the last moment to act, then leave him no escape.”

Unaware of his devious nephew’s thoughts, Zhao Guangyi quietly instructed Chen Congxin as the crowd dispersed: “Deploy more men to watch those servants delivering items to candidates at night. At the first sign of contraband, arrest them immediately, and make sure the blame falls squarely on my nephew!”

Chen Congxin readily agreed. Zhao Guangyi’s expression softened slightly as he ordered, “Rest well now. The gate to the Dragon’s Gate opens soon. Whether we can effectively prevent proxy candidates depends on tonight.”

That night, Zhao Guangyi’s capable subordinates did not disappoint. Under his repeated orders, Chen Congxin and others summoned sharp-eyed officers from the Kaifeng prefecture. Despite great difficulties, they uncovered more than ten proxy candidates—an achievement far surpassing previous provincial exams and much to Zhao Guangyi’s pride.

At dawn the next day, at the hour of Mao, Zhao Guangyi, Zhao Dezhao, and the other five examiners assembled once more in the main hall of the Qisheng Academy. Under watchful eyes, Zhao Guangyi personally removed the sealed scroll that had been offered to Confucius overnight. First, he publicly verified the wax seal was intact and untampered, then unrolled the scroll and read aloud the carefully chosen exam topics:

“Essay: On the utmost loyalty and righteousness in law and reward! Policy question: Governance in harmony and the revival of the realm! Poetry: Observing the waters of the Yellow River!”

Proud of his selections—far more imposing than the questions previously posed by his rival Zhao Pu—Zhao Guangyi’s expression betrayed a hint of triumph. Yet unexpectedly, Zhao Dezhao suddenly spoke loudly: “Send word at once to the exam hall. Inform all candidates that the Astronomical Bureau miscalculated the auspicious time. Today’s exam is canceled. Candidates should return home and await a new date from the court!”

Chaos erupted immediately. Yang Zhaojian, Wang Hu, and others exchanged startled glances. Zhao Guangyi was dumbfounded. Zhao Dezhao shouted angrily, “Why hesitate? Wang Zhifa, go to the exam hall at once and announce the cancellation. Tell the candidates to disperse!”

Wang Zhifa, ever loyal and obedient, did not hesitate despite Zhao Guangyi’s silence and lack of authority to halt the exam. Striding out, he loudly proclaimed to the gathered candidates, “By order of the Great King, the Astronomical Bureau miscalculated the auspicious hour. Today’s exam is canceled! Disperse!”

The candidates erupted in uproar. Zhao Guangyi, both shocked and furious, roared at Zhao Dezhao, “You madman! What right have you to cancel today’s exam? Do you know the consequences?”

Zhao Dezhao said nothing but produced an envelope from his bosom. Opening it, he unfolded a letter and held it up: “Uncle, look at this.”

Stepping forward in anger, Zhao Guangyi scrutinized the letter and gasped in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes hard, stunned beyond comprehension, staring blankly as if his soul had fled.

“The exam questions! These are the three questions for this subject!”

The first to shout was Wang Yisun, representative of Zhao Pu’s faction. Pointing at the letter in Zhao Dezhao’s hand, he exclaimed, “These questions were personally set by the Second Prince. How did they come to the Great King? Who leaked them beforehand?”

“Great King, where did you get these questions?” Yang Zhaojian of the neutral faction swiftly recovered and asked urgently.

“I bought them at the exam building for one hundred strings of cash,” Zhao Dezhao answered solemnly. “At first, I thought it was a con, but I never imagined all three questions were genuine!”

Zhao Guangyi and Chen Congxin stood agape, mouths nearly dislocated, utterly bewildered. Yang Zhaojian acted decisively, turning to Wang Hu and Wang Yisun: “Scholars Wang, this concerns the court’s dignity. We must accept the Great King’s proposal: blame the Astronomical Bureau, cancel today’s exam, and reconsider the matter carefully.”

Wang Hu, also neutral and unwilling to show favoritism, supported prioritizing the Song court’s reputation. Wang Yisun, eager to see Zhao Guangyi humiliated, readily agreed. The examiners hurried outside, loudly announcing, “The Astronomical Bureau miscalculated the auspicious hour. Today’s exam is canceled!”

Only then did Zhao Guangyi slump to the ground, pale-faced and inwardly agonizing, “How will I explain this to my elder brother?”