Chapter Twenty: The Butterfly's Wings—The Path of the Top Scholar (Part One)

Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao had left. The attempt to recognize a godfather had failed, and the sworn brotherhood between Zhu Yang and Zhu Biao had come to nothing. Not only that, but Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao had given Zhu Yang quite a beating.

“Young Master, how are you feeling?” Liu Yuan asked, struggling to suppress a laugh.

“Get lost. If you want to laugh, then laugh…” Zhu Yang cursed. “That old Huang and his son are truly despicable. I gave them advice, and they turned around and beat me for it! All I wanted was to become sworn brothers—what’s the big deal, acting as if they’re suffering a great loss!”

“Exactly! That old Huang is really too much!” Liu Yuan echoed.

“Enough, get on with your tasks. Remember, timing is everything when you say those things. Don’t be too hasty!” Zhu Yang instructed.

“Yes, sir!” Liu Yuan wiped the smile from his face and replied with all seriousness.

...

At the capital garrison, Xu Huizu and Xu Zengshou had been staying there these past few days.

“Brother, do you think His Majesty will really…” Xu Zengshou made a gesture of a blade falling. The destructive force of the recent riot had been immense—over a dozen shops had been burned to ashes, and the rumors had touched Zhu Yuanzhang’s greatest sore spot.

The Crown Prince was Zhu Yuanzhang’s reverse scale.

A dragon’s reverse scale, touch it and he is enraged; a king’s reverse scale, to touch it is to invite death across a thousand miles.

Xu Huizu glanced at the soldiers drilling outside and sighed, “Alas, we must not disobey imperial orders. Those people have brought disaster upon themselves. I only wonder if Zhu Yang can escape this calamity, or else our third sister will surely grieve.”

“Yes…” Xu Zengshou gazed worriedly at the towering city walls across from him, silently praying that the summons would not arrive.

But his prayers were in vain.

An eunuch entered, followed by another carrying a box in both hands.

“Duke of Wei, Xu Huizu; Left Governorate Censor, Xu Zengshou—receive the imperial decree!” the eunuch announced in a loud voice.

“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Xu Huizu and Xu Zengshou are to immediately lead fifty thousand troops into the city, take over the outer defenses of the capital, and enforce martial law on the streets. Thus is Our command!” The eunuch finished the proclamation, then took the tiger tally from the box and handed it over for Xu Huizu and Xu Zengshou to inspect.

In the capital garrison, any mobilization required both an imperial decree and the tiger tally—one could not suffice without the other.

“We humbly accept the decree!” After inspecting the tally, Xu Huizu and Xu Zengshou hurried to the barracks and ascended the platform to muster the troops.

At the same time, the imperial guards stationed in the capital were placed on high alert, sealing the imperial city tight as a drum.

...

The sudden movement of the troops brought the escalating riot to an abrupt halt. Everyone cowered in corners, shivering with fear.

Those who had been rampaging through the city now buried themselves in their cellars, terrified of being seized by the authorities.

“By order of His Majesty, the palace exam will be held in ten days—registration begins now!” In the streets, a bailiff beat a gong and shouted the announcement, while another bailiff beside him carried a brush and paper.

“Hey, Old Wu, you’re on duty today?” a bold citizen poked his head out of his window and called to the bailiff.

“Haha—Old Yang, you’ve got guts! Daring to stick your head out and talk to me in front of the soldiers!” Old Wu looked up at Old Yang, then at the soldiers flanking the street, and laughed.

“Oh, I’ve got nothing to fear. His Majesty treats us commoners well, so what’s there to worry about?” Old Yang made a respectful gesture toward the imperial city. “But what’s all this about? Since when does the palace exam require separate registration?”

“You must not be up to date. Normally, the palace exam doesn’t need extra registration—if you pass the provincial exam, you’re in. But this year is different. Some scholars claimed they were disturbed by all sorts of problems, and that the top scorer stole their place.” Old Wu explained.

“His Majesty, being merciful, heard the officials’ petition and decided to show compassion to those scholars who failed. Anyone who protested their results can come and register with me for the palace exam—so they get another chance.”

Old Yang asked, “So what if someone protested but doesn’t actually register for the exam?”

...

“Protested but didn’t register?” Old Wu frowned and replied coldly, “That would be making a mockery of His Majesty—deceiving the emperor. That’s a capital offense—not only you, but your entire family might be executed! But I believe those scholars all have ability, so they should be able to outshine those who passed.”

“True, if they weren’t talented, they wouldn’t have dared protest, claiming the government deliberately posted shoddy exam papers and the like,” Old Yang agreed, nodding.

“Well, enough chit-chat, it’s getting late. I have to announce this on the next street!” Old Wu checked the time, shouting as he hurried on.

...

On the next street, Old Wu encountered another bold citizen, Old Zhang, and the same conversation played out once again.

But things didn’t end there. It seemed Old Wu had been quite the social butterfly in his youth—for on every street he visited, there was always someone bold and familiar with him, repeating the same exchange.

Soon, the entire capital knew: scholars who participated in the riots now had a chance to take the palace exam. If they didn’t go, it would be seen as deceiving the emperor—an offense punishable by execution of one’s entire clan. This left those who had not joined the riots regretful—they lamented not acting on impulse. Meanwhile, the riotous scholars were overjoyed; everyone knew the palace exam had no eliminations—anyone who attended would become a presented scholar, only the ranking differed.

They never imagined that missing the provincial exam could be so easily remedied—now, thanks to this mysterious benefactor who had bestowed beauty, wealth, or fame, they’d seized this once-in-a-lifetime chance.

One of these scholars was Zhou Yushan, yet he could not share their joy.

Originally a purchased licentiate from Shanxi, Zhou Yushan had bought his degree for a staggering three hundred thousand taels—just for the lowest rank.

In the early Ming, such an amount would have had Zhu Yuanzhang flaying the corrupt officials alive thirty times over.

After the exam, Zhou Yushan had come to the capital, resigned to his fate, not hoping for success—not even a last-place finish as in the county exam.

So three days ago, after seeing his name absent from the results, he went drinking with a courtesan he knew in the capital.

Just as he was enjoying himself, a man in blue entered.

“Who are you?” Zhou Yushan, caught in the act of undressing, hastily pulled up his trousers and shouted. One more second and his manhood would have been not just short but lacking entirely.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. I have an opportunity for you,” the blue-robed man said, taking a seat at the table and glancing approvingly at the courtesan.

“Get lost, I’m busy!” Zhou Yushan had no time for opportunity—he was about to return to Shanxi, having finally persuaded the courtesan to spend the night with him. Not even the offer of a ministerial post would distract him now.

“No need to rush.” The blue-robed man, unperturbed, produced a paper from his robe. “This is the courtesan’s deed of sale—I’ve already redeemed her for you. From now on, she’s yours whenever you wish.”

“Really?” Zhou Yushan, thrilled, reached for the deed. He had once considered redeeming her himself, but buying his degree had emptied his family’s fortune.

Besides, back home he already had a shrewish wife—if she found out he’d bought a courtesan, she’d kill him.

“Here, take it.” The blue-robed man handed over the deed without hesitation.

Zhou Yushan, delighted, embraced the courtesan and began to kiss her wildly.

“Ahem…” The blue-robed man coughed.

“Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away,” Zhou Yushan let go, embarrassed. “You’ve done me a huge favor—there must be something you want. Name it, and if I can do it, I will.”

“Straightforward!” the blue-robed man praised him. “It’s easy talking to clever people.”

“You’ve heard the rumors in the street—that Zhu Yang is the crown prince’s illegitimate son?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Zhou Yushan replied, inwardly lamenting Zhu Yang’s good fortune. If he were the prince’s son, he’d have all the pleasure boats on the Qinhuai River to himself, a different one for every meal.

“Tomorrow, go out and say, ‘Zhu Yang’s top scholar title was secretly arranged by the crown prince through the chief examiner.’ Then rally the scholars and the public to protest at the examination hall,” the blue-robed man instructed.

...

“Hmm? The crown prince?” Zhou Yushan eyed the blue-robed man suspiciously. Zhu Biao had a good reputation; many hoped he would ascend the throne soon.

“What are you trying to do to the crown prince?” Though Zhou Yushan was no exam-taker, he was sharp in other matters.

“My lord… cough… forget it, my Master Wang bears a grudge against the prince and wants to smear his name,” the man replied, pretending to slip.

“Wang…” Zhou Yushan caught his meaning, stared hard at the man, and refused, “Forget it. I won’t get involved in this. Find someone else.”

He was just an ordinary degree-holder—entangling himself in a succession struggle was unthinkable.

“Why? Look at the beauty before you!” The man gestured to the courtesan on the bed, her delicate shoulders bared, smiling shyly. “Do this well, and she’s yours forever!”

Zhou Yushan gazed at the woman he’d longed for, hesitated, but finally declined, “No. I won’t get involved, and I don’t want the courtesan.”

“Fine, since you refuse a toast, you’ll drink the punishment.” The man produced another paper from his robe.

“You…” Zhou Yushan’s face changed at the sight—it detailed the bribes he had paid to the county examiners.

“That examiner is close to Master Wang. Last night he mentioned it offhand,” the man threatened. “If you refuse, I’ll hand this to the Ministry of Justice. Such evidence is enough to wipe out you and your entire clan. Not only will you lose this beauty, you won’t even keep your shrewish wife!”

“You’re ruthless!” Zhou Yushan lunged for the paper.

But this time, the blue-robed man dodged with ease, not letting Zhou Yushan touch him.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Zhou Yushan conceded through gritted teeth.

“That’s more like it!” The man stroked Zhou Yushan’s topknot. “As long as you succeed, my master promised to secure you the title of presented scholar and later make you a magistrate. Then you’ll have wealth, beauty, and power.”

“Go and enjoy yourself,” the man said, handing Zhou Yushan the incriminating document. “Since you’ve agreed, there’s no going back. Even if this paper’s gone, my master can get another.”

...

From that day on, Zhou Yushan meticulously carried out the blue-robed man’s instructions. The original protest, with the addition of local toughs, soon escalated into a riot.

But once the capital garrison entered the city, Zhou Yushan knew his end was near.

“What? You say I can enter the palace exam?” Zhou Yushan, hiding in his inn, asked his fellow examinee in disbelief.

“Yes! His Majesty’s order was just read on the streets—everyone heard it!” his companion replied enviously. “I told you not to get involved, and yet it turned out to be a blessing. If only I’d been bolder and joined you, maybe I’d be taking the palace exam too!”

“But…” Zhou Yushan still doubted.

“No buts. Go and register! This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance!” his companion urged.

“What if someone impersonates a protester—registering without having actually protested?” Zhou Yushan asked.

“Impossible. His Majesty has ordered the Censors, the Ministry of Justice, and the Court of Judicial Review to verify everything, with the Embroidered Uniform Guard conducting secret investigations. Anyone impersonating a protester will lose their life!” his companion lamented. “If not for such strict checks, I’d try to impersonate one myself. But there’s no way now.”

“Is that so…” Zhou Yushan still felt uneasy, but couldn’t pinpoint the reason.

“Should I go find that blue-robed man?” he wondered. The man had left an address in case he needed anything.