Chapter 49: A Clash of Powers!

The students were hunched over their desks writing away, while the local townspeople waiting nearby instantly elevated their decorum by several levels. Even an old man whose voice could normally create ripples in the river now covered his mouth, suppressed his vocal cords, and spoke in whispers.

All occupations are ignoble, only studying is lofty. In the eyes of these people, education was the most noble pursuit, and they simply hadn't the heart to disturb those intensely focused students.

At that moment, the academy’s back kitchen brought out warm tea broth to distribute among the students present. Both sides received it, for the weather was still somewhat chilly, and sitting here for a full hour was indeed quite a trial.

Yet at this moment, the seemingly ordinary act of writing was like a battlefield plagued by the rustling of wind and the cries of cranes. No one wanted to lose. Even when the tea broth was delivered right to their fingertips, those writing students did not pick it up to sip, merely keeping their heads down and pushing forward with their pens.

This was, in truth, a spiritual confrontation. Although Hsia Lin felt no particular pressure, for these students, they carried upon their shoulders the honor and disgrace of the academy as well as their future prospects.

"Clang, clang, clang."

Scholar Qiu shook his handbell, signifying that the time for compiling and transcribing the exam questions had ended. The designated student representatives from both sides responsible for writing the political essays successively stood up and submitted their articles.

There are ten fundamental arts of the common people: fishing, hunting, farming, road and bridge building, forging, animal husbandry, planting, spinning, and mining. These ten industries are not only the foundation for the survival of the masses but also the cornerstone of national prosperity. Barring any unexpected circumstances, the political essays in most examinations centered around these subjects.

As for those critiquing current affairs or bantering through ancient and modern times—unless one happened to encounter a chief examiner who shared the same fiery indignation—they would inevitably be weeded out in the first round of grading. Especially now that the new policies were down, following the Six Ministries Joint Review System, a clear objective had been established throughout the Great Wei Dynasty: if one failed to enter the Ministry of Rites, Ministry of Personnel, Ministry of Revenue, or Ministry of Punishments through the Imperial Examination, the absolute bare minimum would be entering the Ministry of Works or the Ministry of War, wouldn't it?

Well then, what were those Six Ministries looking for? Who among them would want someone standing there flapping their jaws just to hurl curses? Naturally, they wanted people capable of raising questions, discovering problems, and solving problems. If it merely relied on scolding, who couldn't rant until smoke rose from the sun-drenched incense burner?

Therefore, everyone's primary focus in their political essays now leaned toward the ten fundamental arts of the common people, followed closely by military strategy, tax systems, and legal codes.

Why did Hsia Lin say that only those unrecognized by their times would chant poetry? To put it bluntly, truly formidable individuals had no time for poetry; the ones with leisure to chant poetry were mostly dissolute idlers. Cultivate yourself, regulate your family, govern the country, and bring peace to the world—in the final analysis, chanting poetry amounted to nothing more than the level of self-cultivation.

The six political essays lay before Scholar Qiu. He squinted, reading them word by word. At first, he wore a smile, his expression roughly implying, "I, a dignified provincial academy scholar, am actually reading political essays for you brats. How utterly laughable." Yet as his reading deepened, his expression gradually grew solemn.

Next, he even produced pen, ink, and his official scholar seal. At this sight, not only the students who had authored the essays, but even the spectators watching from outside began to wait anxiously and tensely.

One had to admit, this Scholar Qiu possessed genuine capabilities. After squinting and reading for a long time, he actually began to make corrections, using vermilion ink no less.

Upon seeing this, the hearts of quite a few people below began to pound fiercely. The academy scholar was the only person in the Great Wei Dynasty besides the emperor permitted to use vermilion ink. Though his official rank was not high, his status was exceptionally lofty, and he even possessed an official seal that allowed him to submit articles directly to the imperial center.

The privileges of an academy scholar were terrifying indeed. Sometimes, people were willing to spend a thousand pieces of gold just to promote a single essay. This was precisely why Old Zhang's fiancée's family, despite merely being academy scholars locally, could still be considered a flourishing and influential clan.

Yet today, this was merely an essay contest among a bunch of wild youths, yet it moved an academy scholar to employ vermilion ink. The significance of this went far beyond a simple challenge to a rival school.

Reading them down one by one, Scholar Qiu found the political essays from both sides simply breathtaking. Apart from occasionally circling a few misused or misspelled characters, he could find no parts that required modification.

There was just one oddity that made people feel strange: why did these two sets of articles... somehow feel as though they stemmed from the same lineage? Although their literary styles and brushwork differed, reading through them from start to finish gave the subtle impression that they were written by the very same person.

Yet this suspicion had no real basis. The topic was issued on the spot, the drawing of lots was completely random, and the articles were written right under his eyes. To claim they came from the same person would be overly paranoid; one could only say that the standards of both newly emerged academies were remarkably high.

Among the ten arts, both sides composed essays on six of them, and their crisp, capable execution even surpassed this year's top scholar's political essays. This forced Scholar Qiu to take them seriously. While the students took an hour to write their essays, Scholar Qiu spent an hour and a half reading them. Having started at seven in the morning, the time had now blinked away to nearly one in the afternoon.

The onlookers from the village had already swapped out in batches; aside from the students' parents who stubbornly stood guard, everyone else had long since been unable to endure it.

At that moment, the kitchen began successively serving food. Each person received a large porcelain bowl filled with freshly steamed rice, topped with freshly steamed chicken, cured sausage, and winter bamboo shoots braised with pork. The ingredients weren't particularly luxurious, but considering the current era, this constituted an exceptionally fine meal. Many people saved money for quite a while just to eat something like this at an eatery.

Cured sausage, no less... Fats and oils in this era were extremely precious and scarce commodities. But thanks to the New Year and the fact that Xinping Village had grown prosperous over the past two years, otherwise getting a stick of cabbage to eat would have been considered fortunate.

After finishing the meal, this first round had failed to produce a clear winner. Amidst the expectant gazes of both sides waiting for the result, he could only announce with a helpless sigh, "The political essays presented by both parties this time are brilliant in their own ways. With my meager abilities, I truly cannot determine a victor. However, I shall seal these six essays with my recommendation stamp and submit them to the Wenhui Pavilion, awaiting other scholars for appreciation and discussion."

This statement was essentially declaring a tie between the two sides. Hsia Lin, who was still holding his bowl and eating, was the first to speak up: "A tie, is it? Then Scholar Qiu has worked hard. Since it's a tie, let's start the next round immediately—right after I finish eating. As for you four so-called 'Top Scholars of Jiangnan', come at me together. I've found you eyesores for quite a while now, so hurry up and don't waste time."

The degree of humor in his words was 100%. The posture of him holding his bowl with his mouth covered in grease had a humor factor of 1000%. But at the same time, the expressions of the Four Scholars of Jiangnan—who had been provoked to the point of choking on their food and beating their chests in frustration—had a humor factor of 10,000%.

The scene instantly erupted into roaring laughter. Following that, the four scholars, who had always viewed themselves with extreme self-importance, grew somewhat irritated and unleashed a barrage of words upon Hsia Lin.

They were too embarrassed to utter anything unmentionable, merely repeating circular clichés: "Arrogant brat, ignorant of the immensity of heaven and earth," "Flaunting a clever pen to style oneself as romantic after writing a mere few articles," and "Merely blessed with a bit of luck, narrow-minded and incapable of achieving greatness," among others.

To Hsia Lin, these remarks felt entirely harmless. As for the art of hurling trash talk, Old Zhang—who was sitting nearby, picking the cured sausage and steamed chicken straight out of the outraged Four Scholars' bowls to eat—was vastly superior to them in every imaginable way.

At this moment, Hsia Lin stood up, bowed to Scholar Qiu, and then smiled, "May I ask Scholar Qiu to bestow the next topic?"

Scholar Qiu gave a cough, put down his bowl and chopsticks, and straightened his robes: "Since the political essays failed to produce a victor, let us proceed to the second round. As for the first round being political essays, the second round... well, since this is a match between you all, I shall not set a specific topic. You may choose one from literary talent and legal codes to make your test."

Hsia Lin offered a word of thanks, stepped back a few paces, and simply sat down on top of a table. "I can see that the four of you feel a certain amount of pressure facing me, and for me to enter the arena against you is somewhat beneath my dignity. Instead, I might as well select a few students from my own academy to come and meet you four great scholars."

His arrogant demeanor completely detonated the emotions of the four opposite him. Had it not been for their status, they would have long since burst into foul language. Yet Hsia Lin merely crossed his arms and sat there, showing no trace of tension or displeasure on his face as he casually pointed and named them: "Zhu Qi, Tang Yang, Song Chen, Zhou Huan, the four of you go. Remember to leave some face for our seniors; don't exhaust them too severely."

With that, he smiled at the Four Scholars of Jiangnan and said, "These four lads are simply the students responsible for sweeping the floors here in this rural academy. They come from impoverished backgrounds and haven't studied for many years. If you happen to lose to them later, make sure you don't cry and run home to your mothers."

Seeing him act with such audacity, the "Four Scholars of Jiangnan" could restrain themselves no longer. The four of them slammed their tables and stood up, wearing cold sneers: "If we win, don't blame us for tearing down your academy's plaque!"

"Even if you win, there's still one round left after this. What are you rushing for?"

Hsia Lin chuckled, casting a glance at the people he had named. He gave a gentle nod without uttering any further nonsense.

Yet the four individuals he had named were described by him with statements that were half-true and half-false. Although these four indeed came from poor families and had attended school for very few days—relying on work-study programs within the academy to barely maintain their livelihood—they failed to consider *why* such people were qualified to participate in work-study programs at the school run by Hsia Lin. Naturally, it was because the talents of these four were nothing short of peerless masterpieces. Hsia Lin simply couldn't bear to see such supreme talent buried, which was why he kept them by his side and personally instructed them whenever he had free time.

Among these individuals, one excelled in poetry and prose, another in political essays, a third in musical temperament, and a fourth in legal codes. They could be described as slumbering dragons trapped in shallow waters, certainly not figures ordinary people could afford to provoke.

As for those Four Scholars of Jiangnan, in Hsia Lin's view, they were a bunch of empty-headed phonies lacking any real substance—oh, and they lacked appearance too. The faces of those four were so unsightly, how could they possibly compare with these meticulously handpicked, primeval talents?

"The first time, you selected the topic first. This time, it should finally be our turn to choose, shouldn't it?"

Hearing this, Hsia Lin merely gave a light laugh, crossed his arms, and said, "By all means. Just don't blame Scholar Qiu for unfair judgment when the time comes. How about it, my four good brothers?"