The man was wearing the academy uniform of the Anhe Academy and appeared to be in his twenties.
Fang Zichen only felt it was unlucky, and his fists were fucking itching again. His expression looked extremely unfriendly, and he was tall. If it were someone else, they should have recognized the circumstances and acted wisely, not daring to talk back anymore, but this scholar was arrogant and presumptuous.
"What, you want to hit me?" He sneered: "I'm afraid you don't have the guts. Do you know what the punishment is for hitting a scholar who has earned an official rank?"
According to convention, only a Xiucai can be considered as having an official rank, truly recognized by the court. But in Daxia, although a Tongsheng was not comparable to a Xiucai and didn't have the same rights or status as a Xiucai, was still regarded as a member of a preparatory scholarly class. This placed a Tongsheng a step above ordinary commoners or merchants. If one were to assault such a person without cause, the consequences depended on the victim's response. If the Tongsheng chose not to press charges, the matter might end there. But if he decided to pursue the matter officially, the assailant could face jail time, with a few days in prison being a light sentence. The greater fear was being sentenced to dozens of heavy strokes, a punishment that could easily leave a man half-crippled for life.
"I don't know!" Fang Zichen directly kicked the man in the kneecap: "I have to hit you to find out."
The scholar fell to the ground, his knee hurting so much he couldn't get up immediately.
People ahead heard the commotion, just glanced back, but didn't pay it much mind. Right now, the most important thing was checking the results, any other drama had to take a back seat.
"You..." the scholar pointed at Fang Zichen: "You wait for me. Once I'm on the list, I'll make you pay."
Fang Zichen cursed: "Point, point, point, point your damn finger. Point at me again, and I'll cut your hand off."
Last time, that Wu Desheng was the same—couldn't win a fight, couldn't win an argument, so he spouted threats telling him to wait. But he'd waited so long, and hadn't seen him come for a reckoning.
These people, they've studied until they're stupid, no real ability, but still feel superior.
Only an idiot would be afraid of them.
"Husband..." Although Zhao Ger knew he was venting anger on his behalf, he still tugged at him: "Don't hit people."
As soon as he finished speaking, noise erupted from the front.
Three yamen runners with large knives hanging at their waists walked over, beating a gong.
The results were being posted.
"Step back, step back," the runners shouted loudly: "The government is posting the results. All idlers must step back immediately. Do not obstruct."
The crowd stepped back a few paces, automatically clearing a path. No one caused a disturbance until the red list was posted and the officers left. Then the crowd surged forward again, pushing and squeezing.
The scholars, who had originally been very refined, elegant and easy-going, properly dressed, were now pushing and shoving each other, their hair becoming messy from the crowding, their shoes getting trampled black.
"...I passed... I passed, I finally passed the exam!"
"...Why isn't my name there?"
"Brother Li, look again carefully."
"Fifty-third place, hahaha, I tested into fifty-third place!"
"Our ancestors are blessing us..."
Cries and laughter came from the front in turn.
Zhao Ger's palms were sweating now, his heart pounding. He really couldn't wait any longer. He lowered his head and prepared to charge into the crowd like a rocket.
For this county exam, a total of fifty-six candidates were accepted.
It seemed like a small number, but this was just for one county. The prefecture had dozens of counties under it—added together, the number became impressive.
The names on the red list, except for the top three, were written densely together for those behind.
Some people finished looking, found their names, but lingered, unwilling to leave, wanting to gaze upon it further. Those who couldn't find their names, refusing to believe it, afraid they might have missed it, looked again several times.
The people inside wouldn't come out, those outside couldn't see, feeling anxious, nervous, and thoroughly annoyed.
Fang Zichen stood out like a crane among chickens, a head taller than everyone else. His eyesight was also good. With a casual glance, he saw his name.
He pulled Zhao Ger back: "No need to look."
Zhao Ger: "Huh?"
"I passed," Fang Zichen said. As soon as he finished, the scholar who had just been kicked sneered beside him.
"What boastful words."
Fang Zichen wasn't a student from the academy. The private schools run by Xiucai in the town, the students there, due to previous 'academic' exchanges, were mostly familiar faces, even if not close acquaintances.
Fang Zichen was an unfamiliar face, presumably not a student from Anhe Academy, nor from other private schools.
This scholar believed that he and several of his classmates from the academy were quite learned, yet they had failed the exam several times in a row. For someone like this to say such a thing, wasn't it just boasting?
The village chief, He Daleng, and Uncle Liu were standing right under the red list at that moment. The three of them, as if by agreement, had made their way to the county gate in the middle of the night.
Almost as soon as the county gates opened, the three rushed to the government office entrance.
They waited for almost two shichen (4 hours), until the sky was just beginning to lighten.
Although they felt the probability of Fang Zichen passing wasn't high, the village chief hadn't been able to sleep since the day before.
Uncle Liu and Aunt Liu were even more nervous than Zhao Ger.
He was the only literate and promising young man in the village. In fact, the outcome mattered more to all the villagers than it did to Fang Zichen himself.
The clan leader had originally wanted to come too, but he was old and afraid of getting hurt in the crush. Persuaded by his family, he had to let the village chief act as his representative, to report back to him as soon as the results were seen.
But these three men were largely illiterate. The village chief recognized a couple of characters, but having always called him 'Fang boy (Xiaozi)', he only recognized the character '子' (zi). If Fang Zichen had managed to pass by luck, his name should be near the end. But he had looked over the last two rows and hadn't seen any name containing '子'.
The three men had been staring dumbly at the red list for a long time. Not seeing the name, they didn't know if Fang Zichen was on the list or not.
Probably not.
They had already reached a conclusion in their hearts, but still...
He Daleng saw a young man next to him who was grinning from ear to ear, looking thrilled. He timidly called out: "Little brother..."
Having passed, the young man was in a good mood. He smiled: "What can I do for you, uncle?"
"Can you help me find a name?" He Daleng asked.
Many of those who came to see the results were family members of the candidates.
Many of these family members worked the land for a living and were largely illiterate.
"Of course," the young man said warmly: "What's your son's name?"
"..." He Daleng swallowed: "It's Fang Zichen."
As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the other man's eyes suddenly widen. His voice rose, as if startled, but not quite.
"You said his name is what?"
Others nearby also looked over. The village chief, He Daleng, and Uncle Liu were a bit confused.
He Daleng mumbled: "Fang... Fang Zichen!"
The scholar took a deep, slow breath, raised his hand, and pointed to the very top of the red list, the first row, first column, the largest name. He said: "He's right here. He passed. Moreover, he's ranked first."
Village Chief: "..."
He Daleng: "..."
Uncle Liu: "..."
No comments:
Post a Comment