PFC Chapter 631 Examination of Officials from 6 Countries 3
Chapter 631 Examination of Officials from 6 Countries 3
"In the past, I was an official..." Many people's eyes wandered, lost in memories. Many of them did indeed deal with money, grain, and criminal matters all day long, worrying about spring famine and autumn floods, and adjudicating disputes among the people. But in the eyes of their superiors, how could those tedious paperwork compare to a well-written eulogy or a perfectly timed tribute? Their "practical work" was never a ladder to promotion, but merely the bottom line for not making mistakes, or even "mundane affairs" and "lowly tasks."
Zhao Bo sat blankly on the straw mat. Wei Zhuang's words were like a heavy hammer, striking the cognitive barriers he had built up over sixty years. He recalled how, when he was a county magistrate, he had been so anxious about the spring famine that he couldn't sleep at night, personally going to the countryside to inspect the disaster and discussing with the old farmers about replanting miscellaneous grains; he had also been troubled by the inheritance dispute between two brothers, going through countless old contracts and visiting the elders in the neighborhood; he had also stood on the flimsy dike, looking at the surging river with deep concern, organizing laborers to reinforce the dangerous sections.
His painstakingly devised solutions, meticulously documented in official reports, often went unanswered, receiving only a dismissive "I know" from his superiors. What his superiors preferred to hear were auspicious omens appearing within the territory, and praise for the "simple and honest customs" brought about by his educational efforts. Over time, he too learned to focus his energy on where it was truly needed.
But now, the Qin state, this new dynasty that is about to unify the world, has laid bare this most insignificant and trivial problem, the one that "shouldn't" be discussed in such a serious manner, on the very court that could determine their future and destiny, and is asking in such a solemn manner: "How should we deal with it?"
An indescribable surge of emotion, mixed with bitterness, realization, and a belated excitement, suddenly welled up in Zhao Bo's eyes. He quickly lowered his head, using the act of tidying up papers to conceal his momentary loss of composure.
So these are the "real matters"? So those painstaking efforts he once considered beneath him are now being treated with such seriousness here? Placed in a position more important than poetry and classical texts?
He took a deep breath and gripped the pen tightly. The nib dipped in ink, trembled slightly, but finally fell. He didn't write any elaborate opening; he went straight to the first question:
"With consecutive years of locusts and droughts, the first priority is to ensure the safety of the people and prevent them from fleeing."
First, immediately take stock of the grain stored in the Ever-Normal Granary and the Charity Granary, calculate the number of days the grain can last, suspend non-urgent operations, and save grain and fodder.
Secondly, they sent officials with documents, gold, and silk to neighboring counties and even neighboring countries to purchase grain, promising to offset it with future taxes or the salt and iron monopoly.
Thirdly, the government implemented a work-for-relief program, organizing displaced people to dredge waterways, build roads, and repair government offices, providing them with daily rations so that they had food to rely on, preventing them from causing chaos and ensuring that production was not disrupted.
Fourth, report to your superiors, perhaps requesting the allocation of funds from the Imperial Treasury, or persuading wealthy merchants in Xianyang to lend money, promising interest or future profits from monopolies…
The pen moved swiftly and steadily across the paper. Those coping strategies buried deep in his memory, those practical experiences he had once considered worthless, now flowed forth like a spring.
He forgot that he was being examined, forgot about the fellow examinees around him, and forgot about the prime minister sitting high above him as the chief examiner. It was as if he had returned to his days as a county magistrate who was worried about the people of the region, and was drafting a document to reassure the people overnight.
Inside the examination hall, the rustling sound of writing gradually merged into a continuous chorus. The initial restlessness and doubt were slowly replaced by a strange focus. Some frowned in deep thought, counting the provisions on their fingers; some wrote furiously, pouring out their years of experience in solving cases into simple succinct pieces; some wrote and stopped, revising repeatedly, striving for thoroughness.
Those former officials from different vassal states and backgrounds were now drawn back to the area they knew best—not the high halls of power, but the far reaches of the countryside, the real hardships of the people and the challenges of governance.
Kui Zhuang exchanged a glance with Yao Jia. Yao Jia nodded slightly and said in a low voice, "The princess's method, though abrupt, hits the nail on the head. Those who can answer these questions well may not be great scholars, but they are certainly capable officials who understand the hardships of the people and are willing to do practical work. However..."
He glanced at several people who looked hesitant and couldn't bring themselves to write, and thought, "I'm afraid there are quite a few people who only know how to flatter and fawn, but are completely ignorant of this practical matter."
Kui Zhuang's gaze swept across the audience, lingering briefly on several candidates who were writing swiftly and intently. He said softly, "Only by removing the dross can we eliminate the dross and retain the essence. However, I wonder how many hearts this 'fire' can ignite, and how many paths it can illuminate."
The examination lasted for a full three hours. When the final drumbeat sounded, many felt as if they had just woken from a dream, looking at the papers filled with writing, their expressions complex—a mix of relief, trepidation, and an unprecedented sense of accomplishment. The examiners began collecting the papers, and a soft sigh and a sigh of relief filled the examination hall.
Zhao Bo handed in his exam paper and stretched his stiff wrists. As he walked out of the examination hall, the afternoon sun was a bit dazzling. He squinted and saw many fellow examinees gathered in small groups under the locust tree outside the gate, discussing amongst themselves.
"This is unheard of! Examining these things, where does that leave the classics? Rites, music, poetry, and books are the true path to governing a country!" A former Confucian official from the State of Qi said indignantly, waving his sleeves. The cuffs of his official robes were worn, but he still retained a trace of the arrogance of his former country.
“I think this is more like the way to test people who are actually doing things,” another middle-aged man, who looked more capable, said in a deep voice. He came from Wei, with dark skin and rough fingers, clearly someone who spent his life working in the fields. “When I was the Registrar of Households in Wei, I spent my days checking money, grain, and land, and dealing with these kinds of disputes. It’s much better than testing people on those abstruse classics. At least I know that those who pass are truly capable.”
"Hmph, easy for you to say." The lean Qi official reappeared, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Do you know that someone has already pulled strings and probably already knows the question? I personally saw a carriage drive into Lord Yao Jia's residence last night!" His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for everyone around to hear.
Zhao Bo did not join the discussion. He walked alone to the old locust tree, took out the newspaper that had been worn soft from his sleeve, unfolded it, looked at the discussion on "fair selection of officials", and then looked back at the solemn gate of the examination hall.
Sunlight filtered through the locust leaves, casting dappled shadows. In the distance, several men in official robes were speaking quietly with the assessment officials, one of them seemingly slipping something to them. Zhao Bo's heart tightened.
The assessment might just be the first hurdle. The small flame that had ignited in his heart because of the exam questions was inevitably overshadowed by rumors of "pulling strings" and witnessing that suspicious scene. Could the princess's blueprint for the new policies truly penetrate these barriers of reality? How much of the word "fairness" could be upheld in the face of money and power?
He didn't know the answer. But he knew that his answers on locust control, case adjudication, and flood prevention were the most solid and conscientious he had written in decades. Even if he ultimately failed to be selected, even if the so-called "fairness" was just a mirage, at least in this moment, he rediscovered the original intention he had when he first became an official.
He put away the newspaper, straightened his clothes, and slowly walked towards Shangguanli. His shadow stretched long in the setting sun, but his steps were more determined than when he came.