Chapter 1914 - Announcement of Results
Once political qualification was established, Zhang Yunmi examined the writing and argumentation. There were commendable elements—the analysis and arguments proved quite novel. Ordinary traditional scholars rarely possessed such insight. This was clearly the work of someone with at least some cultivation in "Australian studies." Such a person was inherently "actively seeking progress" and merited favorable consideration.
As for weaknesses, they amounted merely to limitations in the writing itself: some typos and grammatical errors. But the logic flowed smoothly, accessible even to readers with lower cultural levels. Therefore, excessive fastidiousness about prose elegance and word choice seemed unwarranted.
Zhang Yunmi delivered a stern criticism to the naturalized citizen cadres, instructing them that one could not judge matters based on personal likes and dislikes. The more challenging the situation, the more essential it became to maintain impartiality. Simultaneously, she addressed the defected old literati cadres: everyone was now an Australian official and should work together in sincere unity. The Senate supported "letting a hundred flowers bloom and a hundred schools of thought contend," but personal attacks were unacceptable. And as for those "four ways to write the character for chicken"—she herself didn't know them either! Thus, with both sides receiving equal reprimand, the matter was laid to rest.
Liu Xiang and the other senior officials attached considerable importance to this inaugural civil service examination. Though it qualified as a "local examination," given that the Senate would soon relocate its capital to Guangzhou, a substantial number of these civil servants would likely receive promotions to central ministries. Therefore, during selection, "reliability" from a political perspective remained the primary consideration.
However, upon reviewing applicants' personal information, the reliability concern proved unfounded. Of the 1,899 individuals who sat for the examination, only twenty-seven held former Ming xiucai degrees—slightly over one percent of total examinees. Not a single juren or jinshi appeared among them.
Before recruitment began, the Lingao Senate had engaged in heated debate about whether Ming dynasty juren and jinshi should be permitted to participate in the civil service examination. Many voices, speaking from a perspective of "purifying the ranks," insisted that such individuals absolutely must not be allowed to "infiltrate the revolutionary ranks."
"Infiltrate the revolutionary ranks," indeed! Liu Xiang thought to himself—these people were actively trying to distance themselves from the new regime!
Still, this distancing worked to their advantage. Though the absence of defecting juren or jinshi eliminated a potential propaganda coup that would surely have disappointed the publicity department, it also spared the Senate endless arguments and disputes.
Examining the registration data revealed that civil service examination candidates consisted mainly of tongsheng from community schools and private academies, along with small traders, shop assistants, and craftsmen who had studied for several years before engaging in various trades. Overall, they derived basically from the urban citizen class, with some rural households from nearby areas. Very few came from truly destitute backgrounds; most belonged to the urban middle and lower classes—confirming the old adage that studying requires capital.
Though all possessed some education, the vast majority of candidates lacked foundation in "Australian studies." Even though the aptitude test questions weren't particularly "modern," for many scholars who had spent their lives immersed in classics and eight-legged essays, the questions still resembled incomprehensible foreign texts. Liu Xiang estimated that those who answered correctly were probably just guessing.
To select talent as effectively as possible, the grading process didn't simply mark answers right or wrong and assign scores. Graders also categorized and screened each paper. Candidates who scored high on mathematics and logic questions were singled out—even if their scores in other sections ran lower, it didn't matter. For many candidates, their aptitude test score essentially determined whether they would proceed to the interview stage or even secure admission. Of course, if a candidate's essay proved too deficient, it basically precluded such examinees from entering administrative management positions.
Yuan Shuzhi remained ignorant of his examination fate, but his current mood was rather calm. He was already a man past fifty, his days numbered. If he failed to pass, he would simply become the teahouse's accountant and live out his remaining years in peace.
The Australian New Calendar year-end was approaching. Yuan Shuzhi kept busy helping with accounts while Zeng Juan went out collecting debts daily. On this particular day—year's end—the accounts had already been balanced. Yuan Shuzhi had eaten breakfast with little remaining to do, so he sat in the accounts room and picked up Dream of the Red Chamber to read.
Suddenly he noticed a commotion in the street. Many students were hurrying toward the Tribute Courtyard.
"Quickly, quickly, go! The Elders are about to post the results!"
At this outcry, the crowd erupted. Examinees' faces flushed with either anticipation or anxiety. Many people in the teahouse who had been washing up or having breakfast couldn't even wait to finish eating—they rose impatiently to join the stream of people rushing outside.
Suddenly Zeng Juan burst in, breathless. He drained the teacup on Yuan Shuzhi's table in one gulp, caught his breath, then announced loudly: "Old... Old Yuan! The results are posted!!!"
Hearing the words "results are posted," Yuan Shuzhi jumped to his feet. "Young Master Zeng, is it true?! Don't tease me!"
"Of course it's true! Today is December 30th! I had just stepped out when I heard people saying the Australian Song examination results were posted, so I immediately ran back to tell you. Let's go look together—I can't bear the suspense alone!"
"Good! Good! Good! I shall accompany Young Master Zeng!"
Yuan Shuzhi and Zeng Juan immediately departed for the Tribute Courtyard. Dashi Street, where the Tribute Courtyard was located, was already in an uproar. The area before the posting location was surrounded so densely by crowds that it was impenetrable. Not only candidates and their families had come; many idle spectators had gathered as well. Everyone wanted to witness what kind of "Australian spectacle" this first examination result announcement would produce! There were even quite a few parents with daughters of marriageable age, positioned at the entrance like hawks ready to pounce, watching for any "newly minted Australian jinshi" of suitable appearance and talent to snatch up as sons-in-law.
The posting location was on the wall screen outside the Tribute Courtyard—the same place where examination results had been posted throughout history. To symbolize breaking with the old and ushering in the new, Liu Xiang had specially ordered a colorful canopy erected overnight. Though the appointed hour had not yet arrived, the area beneath the colorful canopy was already packed with student candidates, each jostling for advantageous position. Having arrived late, Zeng Juan and Yuan Shuzhi could only remain at the outer edge.
Fortunately, the list had not yet been posted. Some students pressed their palms together, murmuring something—closer listening revealed prayers to gods and buddhas for blessings.
Creak—
The courtyard gates opened punctually at the si hour. Four people in Australian "cadre uniforms" emerged from within. Two held wide sheets of white paper, while the other two carried a ladder and a bucket of paste with brush. Those waiting outside couldn't help feeling secretly disappointed—the Australian ceremony proved far too simple! Never mind cannons and drums—at least there should be some formal ritual. Just four minor clerks coming out to paste sheets on the wall?
Even so, everyone immediately parted to make way. The four cadres approached the wall, set up the ladder, and began pasting up the notice.
A roster of black characters on white paper slowly unfurled. This format was unprecedented. Though provincial examination announcements weren't as elaborate as metropolitan examinations, at least they traditionally used red paper. Who ever heard of simply posting a sheet of white paper? Was this some Great Song legacy? Though puzzled, the candidates didn't care. Fame, fortune, and advancement moved hearts—even if it were purple paper with green text, the examinees wouldn't mind.
The moment the cadres stepped back, the crowd surged toward the roster with a tremendous whoosh.
Only then did everyone observe that this roster differed fundamentally from Ming dynasty format. Each entry was preceded by an examination number in those curly Arabic numerals, followed by the candidate's name, the position applied for, and their ranking within that position category. Knowledgeable spectators explained that this represented the list of those who passed the written examination. An interview stage still awaited—analogous to passing the metropolitan examination but still needing to undergo the palace examination.
Soon the crowd erupted in chaos. Cries of ecstatic joy and bitter sorrow rose in alternation. Some shouted euphorically: "I passed, I passed!" grabbing the shoulders of whoever stood nearby—familiar or not—and shaking them violently. Others burst into tears crying: "No, this can't be true!" and similar laments, wailing to the heavens, tears staining their clothes...
Yuan Shuzhi was too old to push through the vigorous young men, so he could only ask Zeng Juan to squeeze in alone. After Zeng Juan pushed into the crowd, he still couldn't penetrate past the outer ring. He stood on tiptoe, craning his neck, searching meticulously for his own name and examination number. He had only gotten halfway through the roster when he spotted Yuan Shuzhi's name. He immediately shouted:
"Old Yuan... you're on it..."
The roster read: Sanitation Bureau Administrative Position: Yuan Shuzhi, Aptitude Test 41, Essay 60, ranked first for this position in the written examination.
Before he could report the scores, Zeng Juan was shoved aside. Being short of stature, he was nearly suffocated by the jostling. Struggling to speak, Yuan Shuzhi outside grew even more anxious, shouting: "Young Zeng! Tell me! Did I pass or not?!"
Zeng Juan summoned all his strength, his voice emerging from deep in his throat: "Dammit! Old Yuan, you passed! Aptitude 41, Essay 60! First place for the Sanitation Bureau position!"
BOOM! Everyone who heard "first place" exploded with excitement! How capable must this person be! First place for the Sanitation Bureau position virtually guaranteed selection! Some low-scoring passers felt relieved they weren't competing for the same position as this formidable ancestor. Others who had failed clenched their fists, determined to seek out this expert for guidance before attempting next year's examination!
"I passed! I passed! I passed! Everyone look, number 1269—that's me!" Yuan Shuzhi clapped his hands and laughed toward the sky.
His face flushed with excitement, as though he had returned to eighteen years of age. The furrows on his face, bunched together from laughter, seemed filled with renewed vitality. Heedless of the surrounding crowds, he began loudly reciting:
A dragon stranded on the beach is mocked by shrimp; A tiger fallen from the highlands is bullied by dogs. The tiger lies deep in the mountains, listening to wind howling; The dragon rests in shallow waters, waiting for the tide. Where the ocean ends, the sky becomes the shore; Atop the highest peak, I am the summit. Like the sun rising in the east can rise again, The great roc spreads its wings and resents the low sky. Who hasn't had days as a tiger fallen on the plains? Wait until I rise again from the mountains!
Yuan Shuzhi babbled these half-poem, half-song phrases incoherently, looking as though the world's wind and clouds emanated directly from him, his brows brimming with triumphant joy.
Meanwhile, Zeng Juan had no leisure to listen to his recitations. He searched the list from top to bottom, then from bottom to top, but still couldn't locate his own examination number or name. Anxiety gripped him—fearful he had misread from too great a distance. Disregarding everything else, he burrowed deeper into the crowd, forcing his way to the very base of the notice and starting his search again from the top.
(End of Chapter)