Chapter Twenty-Five: The Palace Examination Begins

In the small courtyard, Zhu Yang was reading when Liu Yuan hurried in from outside. “Young master, the imperial court has just posted a notice—Duke Cao, Li Jinglong, has taken his own life!”

“What about Prince Qin, Zhu Shuang?” Zhu Yang set down his book and looked up.

“He’s been demoted to commoner status and will soon be escorted to Fengyang for house arrest. However, His Majesty hasn’t stripped Zhu Shuang of his princely title but instead transferred it to Zhu Shangbing, Zhu Shuang’s eldest son, allowing him to remain in Chang’an to handle the affairs of the fief,” Liu Yuan reported in full detail.

After listening, Zhu Yang smacked his lips thoughtfully. For someone like Zhu Yuanzhang, who valued family ties so deeply, to confine his own son and execute his nephew’s son must have shattered his heart.

Yet, for Zhu Yang, this outcome was far from ideal.

“To ease His Majesty’s pain a little, arrange for Li Wu to go to Fengyang. When Zhu Shuang arrives, have him take action—let Zhu Shuang reunite with Li Jinglong sooner, lest Li Jinglong grows too lonely waiting for him,” Zhu Yang said, stroking his chin.

It was Li Jinglong who had started the rumor, and though Zhu Shuang’s schemes had targeted the crown prince, Zhu Yang had been their first victim. Since Zhu Shuang had shown no concern for Zhu Yang’s fate, Zhu Yang saw no need for mercy.

Moreover, with Li Jinglong gone, how could Zhu Shuang be left to wander this world alone? Otherwise, wouldn’t Li Jinglong be terribly lonely?

“And send word to our agents in Ryukyu—tell them to accelerate preparations. The plan for Luzon is nearly complete; it’s time to reap the harvest,” Zhu Yang instructed after a moment’s thought.

As the date of the palace examination drew near, the task set by his adoptive father was almost finished. There was little reason to linger in the capital any longer.

Besides, recent events in the city had left Zhu Yang with a faint sense of unease, as if someone were plotting against him behind the scenes.

And Li Jinglong’s death made the future hard to predict, especially regarding the Jingnan Campaign in the first year of Jianwen’s reign.

Zhu Di was fierce, but without the bumbling help of his adversaries, the campaign’s success was far from certain.

With this in mind, Zhu Yang prepared for both outcomes: if Zhu Di succeeded, he would proceed as planned to North America and establish his own empire; if Zhu Di failed, he would first secure Ming and then turn to the Americas. “Imperial Ming Unfallen Empire” might sound awkward, but with time, the name would become familiar enough.

As for Zhu Yunwen, Zhu Yang always felt that his best option would be to disappear or perish in the flames.

After making all the arrangements, Zhu Yang picked up his book once more and immersed himself in study.

The exams he had endured before crossing into this world had left a profound mark on Zhu Yang. Even now, he often felt as if, should he fail, a stern teacher would be waiting in the office to scold him—or worse, summon his parents.

The mere thought of such a scene was enough to send chills down his spine.

Day by day, the palace examination approached, eagerly anticipated by all the scholars.

Before dawn, Zhu Yang, led by a eunuch, arrived at the Hall of Reverent Heaven, the venue for the examination.

Though the palace examination consisted of a single essay and lasted but one day, the rituals were elaborate. As dictated by the Ministry of Rites, all examinees had to undergo roll call, distribution of papers, formal bows, and ceremonial courtesies before receiving their test sheets.

To everyone’s surprise, Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang himself did not appear, with officials announcing that he was indisposed with a cold. The crown prince, Zhu Biao, was also absent, reportedly busy with urgent military matters.

Zhu Yang had hoped to catch a glimpse of Zhu Yuanzhang to see if his face was truly as exaggerated as the rumors claimed, but now he was denied the chance.

With a tinge of regret, Zhu Yang turned his attention to the grand hall.

The Hall of Reverent Heaven stood at the heart of the southern palace axis of the Nanjing Imperial Palace, its roof a grandeur of heavy eaves, perched upon three tiers of Han-style steps, with nine bays across its façade and five in depth. The main hall was flanked by the Left and Right Central Gates. Before it lay a vast courtyard, with the Literary Pavilion to the east and the Martial Pavilion to the west. The main front gate was the Hall of Reverent Heaven Gate, flanked by the Left and Right Crimson Gates (later renamed the East and West Corner Gates). Beyond these, the Left and Right Wing Gates stood, and to the south, the Inner Five-Dragon Bridge.

The later Hall of Supreme Harmony in Beijing was modeled after this very hall in Nanjing; after the Manchus entered the pass, they renamed it the Hall of Supreme Harmony, also known as the Golden Throne Hall.

At this time, the Nanjing palace was lauded as the “world’s foremost palace,” and nearly all the architectural styles of the Ming and Qing era could trace their origins to its designs.

Sadly, after Zhu Di ascended the throne, he had the Beijing palace built in the style of Nanjing’s, using the old Yuan dynasty palace as a foundation.

From then on, the Nanjing Imperial Palace gradually fell into disuse.

Later generations could glimpse its legacy only in the remnants of its foundations.

With a sigh, Zhu Yang lamented the countless architectural marvels lost to the passage of time in Chinese history. Unless one could travel through time, people could only see digital reconstructions on their computers.

If all the famous buildings of five thousand years had been preserved, future generations would need no written words—just by beholding those structures, they would understand the brilliance and splendor of Chinese civilization.

Alas, there are no “what-ifs” in this world, only scattered ruins.

…

“The ceremony is complete!”

With the resounding declaration of a Ministry of Rites official, the pre-examination rituals concluded, and Zhu Yang, along with the others, took his place at the exam table.

A squad of imperial guards approached, bearing the exam papers.

The palace examination had begun.

Breathing in the fragrance of ink, Zhu Yang unfolded his test sheet and found the essay question as expected:

“In ancient times, rulers succeeded one another, unifying the realm and bringing order and clarity through laws and music, governing with a light touch. Why, then, is there no peace? The young and strong are sent to war; turmoil besets China within, while barbarians threaten without. Mares foal among the ranks, banners wave year after year on the frontiers. Is this due to a ruler’s love of war, or the ceaseless provocations of the barbarians? History shows how difficult such times are! Now I wish to cease distant campaigns and govern in peace, yet fear that if the barbarians multiply, within decades they will become a threat to China. In this moment, it seems a chance is being lost—will this not be a cause for regret? Since the time to advance or halt is not yet decided, I ask you scholars: which course is advisable, which is not? Advise on how best to secure peace within and repel threats without; I shall personally review your counsel.”

This question centered on national defense strategy and statecraft.

It began by reflecting on how ancient sage-kings, after unifying the world, established order and enlightenment, able to rule with ease.

Then it turned to the current predicament: years of border warfare had left the people unsettled and hampered the nation’s economic development. Was this the result of the ruler’s bloodthirstiness, or the relentless harassment of neighboring tribes?

Now, the emperor wished to seize the opportunity to pacify the borders, but the people could not settle into productive lives; if he ruled peacefully, he feared the barbarians would grow in strength and become a future menace—then, he would regret missing this chance. At this crossroads, the emperor was undecided, and called upon the scholars to devise a plan for securing peace within and repelling threats from without, promising to personally review their proposals.