Chapter Twenty-Six: Examination

Time rewinds to not long ago, near the library of the Su Residence. The hearths are ablaze, and a solemn atmosphere hangs in the air. All those in the Su family known for their learning have gathered here, and presiding over them is none other than Song Mao, the current prefect of Shenzhou—a scholar of distinguished rank, whose reputation for erudition is well established. The Su family’s students, well aware of his annual visits, have been thoroughly prepared under the tutelage of their instructors.

Money may not buy wisdom, but it can purchase books, and so the Su family’s library is spacious and dignified. If there was one wish Old Master Su harbored, it was that one day the Su family might truly become a household famed for its learned scions, where, generations hence, their descendants might look upon this library and remember the efforts of an ancestor who was but a merchant in his own time. Such aspirations seem imbued with a majestic gravity, and in old age, it is often these matters that occupy one’s thoughts.

The more mechanical portion of the examination has already concluded. The elder students were tasked with essays on statecraft, while the younger ones were tested on their understanding of the sages’ sayings. Model answers are unheard of; none can say with certainty what a line from the Analects truly means—every man has his own interpretation, and judgment is a matter of discretion. Yet a discerning evaluator can tell much: whether the teachers have drilled the students by rote, or whether the students possess originality and insight.

This year’s examination, however, differs somewhat from those past.

Now, after the initial test, a boy no more than nine or ten is summoned to the center of the library to answer Song Mao’s questions. The child is visibly nervous, stammering and uncertain in his responses, but manages to continue nonetheless.

“In the Analects… in the ‘Yong Ye’ chapter, it says… The wise delight in water, the benevolent delight in mountains; the wise are active, the benevolent are still; the wise find joy, the benevolent live long… It means… the wise seek the changes in all things, the benevolent… But the reason the wise pursue change is to seek the unchanging principle within all transformation, and though the benevolent seek no change, they can respond to all that changes by remaining constant. Wisdom and benevolence are, in truth, one… My teacher said… My teacher said, a benevolent person who does not know wisdom is not truly benevolent; a wise person who knows nothing of benevolence has understanding only of trivial matters. Uh… someday, they will suffer for it…”

Though this boy is but nine, honest and simple by nature, he struggles to put his thoughts into words, repeatedly falling back on “my teacher said,” and mixing in colloquial speech. Were this a formal examination, such an answer would not be distinguished, but the occasion now is different. Song Mao, nearly forty, with a countenance both proper and amiable, listens and nods approvingly.

“As Xunzi said, ‘A thousand transformations, ten thousand changes, yet the Dao is one.’ And Zhuangzi: ‘Not departing from the root is called harmony between Heaven and man.’ A myriad changes, yet the root remains—indeed. Little Hei, your teacher taught you this, did he not?”

Hearing this, the nervous boy brightens, relieved to find an easy answer. “Yes, Prefect, sir. Teacher once said, ‘All that is measured and weighed cannot escape the compass and square; all transformations never depart from their source.’”

“One cannot ask for more than ‘all transformations never depart from their source,’” Song Mao nods, then with a smile, “Was your explanation of ‘the wise delight in water’ also taught by your teacher?”

Little Hei nods. “Teacher mentioned it in passing. I… I don’t remember all of it…”

“Do you understand it?”

The child considers, shakes his head, then nods cautiously. “I… understand a little…”

“Haha, so it seems.” Song Mao laughs. “And what of your earlier explanations—were those too from your teacher?”

The child nods, then shakes his head. “Teacher… Teacher mentioned up to this part, but… but didn’t explain everything. Some of it… I thought of myself…”

Song Mao watches the boy’s hesitant nods and shakes, then exchanges glances with Su Chonghua and the others nearby. Old Master Su, observing, quickly notices something different. “Prefect, is there something unusual?”

“Congratulations, Elder Su. This child, and the one before, may achieve great things in the future.”

“Ah…”

Such praise from Song Mao is rare indeed. Old Master Su is delighted, though he masks his feelings and merely observes as matters unfold. Song Mao scans the gathered tutors and scholars, clasping his hands to Su Chonghua. “Brother Su, may I ask which teacher instructs Little Hei?”

He had previously met some of the teachers from Yushan Academy, but found none particularly remarkable. Now, he glances at a few unfamiliar faces. Su Chonghua hesitates, but at a look from Old Master Su, replies, “It seems he is not present. Both Little Hei and the child just now, Zhongming, are disciples of Liheng.”

Old Master Su is surprised, then pleased; Song Mao’s expression shifts as well. Sorting through the answer sheets, he selects five and hands them over. “Brother Su, examine these—are all these students taught by the same person?”

Su Chonghua checks the names and nods. Song Mao explains to Old Master Su, “The same question, the same teacher, the same curriculum—yet these five answers are all distinct, each with its own insight…”

There is no need for further words. Though Old Master Su lacks learning, he understands the implication. Song Mao surveys the assembly, then asks, “Brother Su, this Liheng—is he Ning Yi, the one of ‘Water Melody’ fame, Ning Liheng?”

“…It is indeed him.”

“A rare talent! He should be invited up to join us—how can we leave him among the spectators?”

All those on the platform are elders and middle-aged men. Ning Yi ought to be present, yet is nowhere to be seen. Old Master Su, his eyesight poor, scans the crowd and asks Su Boyong, “Where is Liheng?”

Su Boyong is already searching, shaking his head. “He… doesn’t seem to be here.”

Usually, during this second half of the examination, it is older students who are called forth. This time, however, two young children have been summoned. Though nervous, it is a mark of distinction, and those watching below are abuzz with whispers. Juan’er, who has come to see the excitement, encourages one of Ning Yi’s disciples: “See how amazing Hei and Zhongming are? If you’re called up, you must answer well—you can’t embarrass your teacher!”

The children, well-acquainted with Juan’er and Chan’er, grimace. “But, Sister Juan, I’m scared… it’s the prefect up there…”

“It’s not our own prefecture, and he won’t behead you—look how kind he seems. Hei and Zhongming were scared too… But if you embarrass us, I won’t let you off…”

Before she can finish, Su Boyong above has spotted Juan’er and calls her out with a smile. “Where is your brother-in-law?” Sent to find Ning Yi, Juan’er hurries out, even as, in the hall, Song Mao, intrigued by Ning Yi’s storytelling, asks Little Hei to recount one on the spot.

After composing himself, Little Hei tells the story before Su Tan’er and the others, who are all taken aback. Juan’er then asks Chan’er, “Where is brother-in-law? The elders are waiting, and I couldn’t find him in the courtyard.”

Chan’er is flustered as well. “But… brother-in-law went out early this morning… I’m not sure where he is…”

Having taught at Yushan Academy for several months, Ning Yi had heard from Xiao Chan about the annual examination, but true to his nature, he paid it little mind. In class, while telling stories to the children, he noticed the amusement, skepticism, and even criticism among his audience. Su Tan’er herself was puzzled and displeased, but Ning Yi discerned all these feelings and ignored them. If Xiao Chan ever asked how he viewed the examination, he would likely reply offhandedly, “If you can’t get through something like this, you might as well give up…”

He had few ambitions left, but once he set out to do something, all that remained was to wait for the result. After all he had experienced, vanity lingered, but it no longer dictated his actions. With those capable of understanding, like Elder Qin or Elder Kang, he might share his unorthodox thoughts and quietly enjoy their reactions. But with those of lesser understanding, to debate would only invite accusations of heresy—why bother?

Whether Ning Yi would watch the examination if he were home is uncertain; in any case, he left early that morning, unaware of how things would unfold. The Su family had been busy of late, and he had things of his own to attend to. Leisure had lasted long enough—it was time to find something to occupy himself. Whether his efforts would bear fruit, who could say? At the very least, he could prove that he—a modern-day entrepreneur—had once struggled for a good life, even in this era where even monosodium glutamate did not exist.

The image that came to mind was that of a pig in the throes of struggle…

As snow fell thickly from the sky, Ning Yi wandered idly, umbrella in hand, along the snow-covered streets. Dressed in a blue scholar’s robe, he would have made a fitting figure in a painting, his silhouette poetic against the snowy avenue. Shops flanked the road, their doors open for business, and people hurried by. A carriage rolled past, and at a street corner, several small vendor carts clustered. Behind one, a woman with an ill-fitting headscarf blinked in confusion at Ning Yi, who waved in greeting, prompting a bashful smile.

Nie Yunzhu’s uncharacteristic pancake stall was open for business; Ning Yi had long known the spot, but this was his first time visiting on a whim.

Today marked two significant events: the college entrance examination had begun, and Yao Jiaxin had been executed. On such a complicated day, Banana wishes to say: please, give me many, many recommendations.

Among the readers of Banana’s books, there must be some students taking the college entrance exam. I wish you all success. However, if you’re reading this blessing today, you’re probably not the best student. This leaves me with mixed feelings. In any case, reading is a way to relax and adjust one’s mood, and a little rest is meant to help you walk farther and steadier on your path. Banana wants to remind you: whatever way you choose to unwind, in life, you must work hard. Daydreaming gets you nowhere. Diligence and accumulation, with modest expectations, are the true path to happiness. This is not a slogan, but an insight gained from experience.

May all of Banana’s readers find happiness.

The most important thing bears repeating: please, give as many recommendations as you can!