I traveled back to the Qin Dynasty, and the First Emperor begged me to become his empress.

Chapter 500 Preparations for the Imperial Examination

King Wei was stunned, and the courtiers in the hall were in an uproar. To let Wei follow Qin's example and establish an imperial examination system? This was tantamount to undermining the foundation of the royal family and high-ranking officials—it should be noted that in Wei's court, even the position of a county magistrate was hereditary, held by members of the royal family.

"Imitate the Qin state?" The noble officials objected in unison. "We are descendants of the Ji clan, how can we learn the barbaric laws of the Western Rong?"

Wei Ziyuan looked at them and suddenly laughed, his laughter filled with endless weariness: "Descendants of the Ji surname? Last year, when the Qin army captured Dai County, King Jia of Dai said the same thing. But the Qin army's iron sword doesn't care whether you are of the Ji surname or not. Now, the Qin's imperial examination is like an iron sword. We can't avoid it, we can only learn how to use it—otherwise, in the future, I'm afraid there won't even be anyone left to argue in the court."

July sunlight streamed through the caisson ceiling of the palace, casting dappled shadows on the ground. King Wei glanced at the opposing nobles and officials, then thought of the scholars rushing to Xianyang, and suddenly felt a tightness in his throat. He finally waved his hand, his voice as soft as a sigh: "Then let it be as the Chancellor of Wei has suggested. Tell those candidates… if they truly pass the examinations, don't forget that they are from Wei."

As Wei Ziyuan withdrew after receiving his orders, the setting sun cast a long shadow of him. He recalled the secret letter from the Xianyang Academy, in which Crown Prince Ji wrote at the end: "Father, today I saw the launch of the newly cast giant ship of Qin. Half of the craftsmen on board are remnants of Han and Zhao. They say that it doesn't matter where you work, as long as you can eat your fill and be respected, you can settle down there."

A hot wind blew from the direction of Hangu Pass, carrying the scent of salt, iron, and ink. Wei Ziyuan knew that the Wei court might struggle between etiquette and reality for a few more days, but those footsteps carrying book chests toward Xianyang had already trod a path of no return on the July earth.

Early August in Xianyang felt like being thrown into a furnace. The sound of ramming earth at the Gongyuan (Imperial Examination Hall) in the south of the city shook the ground. The craftsmen, shirtless, had beads of sweat rolling down their dark backs. With each hammer blow, yellow earth and sweat mingled, leaving dark marks on the newly expanded east courtyard wall.

In the nearby streets and alleys, the footsteps of scholars coming and going formed a dense net, and the bamboo slips in their book boxes clattered together, making a crisp "tap-tap" sound that drowned out the cicadas chirping in the treetops—the cicadas' chirping was already annoyingly noisy, but now it was suppressed by this denser sound.

Lü Zhi stood behind the large desk in the main hall of the examination hall, where the lists of candidates were piled up like a small mountain, the edges of the bamboo slips brittle from the sunlight. Her fingertips gently brushed over the top one; the small red-ink annotation of "Han Zhang Cang" still carried the scent of ink—she had specially marked it yesterday, having heard that this native of Han was well-versed in law and had copied regulations in the old government office in Xinzheng. A faint trace of sweat remained where her fingertips had touched. She raised her hand to wipe her forehead, only to find that the stray hairs at her temples were already soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to her cheeks like damp paper.

The copper kettle on the corner of the table was half full of water. Watching the slowly sinking tassel, Lü Zhi realized with a start that she hadn't had a single sip of tea since dawn. In the rough porcelain bowl beside her, the tea had long since gone cold, and a few withered tea leaves lay at the bottom, like the taut strings of her heart.

With a creak, the wooden door to the main hall was pushed open, and a wave of hot, dusty air rushed in. Left Chancellor Kui Zhuang entered, his robes billowing in the hem. He had just returned from the construction site in the east courtyard; the hem of his official robes was stained with yellow mud, and his very scent carried the stench of rammed earth. Hearing the noise, Lü Zhi quickly put down the register and stood up, her robe sweeping across the table, raising a fine cloud of dust.

"No need for formalities." Wei Zhuang waved his hand, his voice hoarse, clearly having shouted for a long time under the scorching sun. "How is the inventory of the cells in the west wing going?"

Lü Zhi picked up a booklet from the side and handed it over. Inside were several sketches of the examination cells, with the positions of the partitions marked in vermilion: "Reporting to the Prime Minister, all three hundred examination cells in the West Courtyard have been inventoried. Each cell is three feet square. As you previously instructed, a one-inch thick wooden partition has been added, which can separate the students sitting next to each other and also block the wind. A small four-inch square window has also been opened in the corner of the wall. Although the heat is hard to dissipate, at least some air can be let in—the weather was cool when the first examination was held last March, and this year the examination is held in September during the hot autumn season. We can't let the scholars get sick from being cooped up inside."

Kui Zhuang took the booklet and flipped through a couple of pages. His gaze fell on the mark on the sketch that read "the small window is five feet from the ground." His lips twitched slightly. "Well thought out." He casually flipped to the list of candidates and his fingertip paused on the name "Chu Zhongli Mo." There were small characters written in red ink by Lü Zhi: "Skilled in calculation. He once served as the grain officer of the Chu camp. He calculated the transport of military grain, and the error did not exceed ten shi."

"You even investigated these?" Wei Zhuang looked up at Lü Zhi, his eyes filled with approval. "Looks like you've been staying up quite late these past few days."

Lü Zhi smiled and said, “We must find out more about the backgrounds of these scholars from other places. Zhongli Mo was appreciated by Xiang Yan for his outstanding mathematical skills when he was in the Chu camp. Later, because he was of commoner origin, he could not be promoted, so he took our imperial examination. Wouldn’t it be a pity if such a talent was ruined because of our oversight in the examination process?”

Kui Zhuang nodded, then moved his fingertip to the name "Wei Liu Sheng," his brows furrowing slightly: "This year, there are too many scholars from various states, with Wei accounting for 30%, and many more coming from the Imperial Academy of Liang. These people are used to writing in the tadpole script of Wei, so if their handwriting is messy when they answer questions, the examiners will not be able to read it clearly, which will inevitably be unfair."

"I have also thought of this." Empress Lü Zhi pulled out a roll of hemp paper from her desk. On it were written the four large characters "Examination Instructions" in neat Qin clerical script. "This was compiled by someone a few days ago. It clearly states everything from the requirement to use Qin clerical script for answering questions, the division of policy essays into three sections: 'Introduction, Main Body, and Conclusion,' to the prohibition of bringing food and candles into the examination cells. Yesterday, I had the officials distribute it to the candidates at the various inns and also posted copies at the entrance of the examination hall so that they could familiarize themselves with it in advance."

She paused, picked up one of the annotations that read "Half a point will be deducted for a soiled answer sheet," and said, "Last year, a student accidentally spilled ink while answering the questions and almost fainted from crying. This year, we're making it clear in advance, both as a reminder and to put their minds at ease—at least they know that the rules are out in the open and that we're not deliberately making things difficult for them."

Just as Wei Zhuang was about to nod, a series of hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. Chunyu Yue, the Director of the Department of Rites and Literature, walked in, his face redder than the sun outside, and beads of sweat on his white beard. As soon as he entered, he bowed to Wei Zhuang, his tone anxious: "Your Excellency, something has happened!"

Lü Zhi quickly handed Chunyu Yue a bowl of cold water, which he took and drank in one gulp, the rough porcelain bowl creaking in his hand: "There are just too many scholars this year! We thought expanding the examination hall would be enough, but who knew that even the inns in Xianyang City would be full! The 'Welcoming Guest Inn' in the south of the city started setting up thatched huts in the courtyard the day before yesterday, and yesterday even the dilapidated temple in the west of the city was occupied by scholars who slept on straw mats—the two hundred temporary dormitories we built earlier, when we counted them this morning, already had more than three hundred people crammed in, and even the passageways were piled with book chests!"