"From the sound of it, this Capital Weekly is quite the marvelous thing. It spreads news through the city faster than wildfire. Hm... this Princess Sheng An truly is remarkable."
"Indeed."
"..."
"Congratulations, Your Highness."
Within the courtyard, a scholar surnamed Zhou had just delivered a passionate argument that left the other students blinking in astonishment. Yun Shu watched the scene unfold with a faint smile.
"Your Highness has become renowned far and wide."
"That may be a stretch," Yun Shu replied calmly, her expression unwavering even amid the scholars' reverent murmurs.
"Did Grand Preceptor Ye summon me here today merely to witness this display?"
"Of course not."
A flicker of quiet admiration crossed Ye Qing'an's gaze. His voice dropped to a respectful murmur.
"I ask only that Your Highness wait a moment longer."
...
In the imperial examination, the most critical segment was the policy argument.
As the scholars' discussions deepened, the conversation naturally shifted toward that topic.
One of them offered up a prompt—he claimed it had been a real examination question from his home province during last year's autumn trials:
"The Sage once said, 'Only when the people prosper should education be administered. Only when the populace is secure can governance prevail.'
In your opinion, should the priority be the administration of the people, or their moral education?"
What followed was a raucous debate. Seven or eight scholars quarreled their way into five or six different answers. They flung classical phrases back and forth with such fervor that Yun Shu's head was spinning.
And it was precisely at this moment that Ye Qing'an turned to her again.
"In Your Highness's view, which of these scholars made the most compelling argument?"
Yun Shu froze.
An excellent question.
This was like asking someone who failed both English and Physics to judge a quantum mechanics debate between two American professors.
In the past, she would've shrugged and admitted defeat with a quick "I don't know."
But now? She was someone who aspired to rule the empire. If she couldn't even follow the arguments of a few scholars, wasn't that rather disgraceful?
No wonder the ancients spent their youth buried in the Four Books and Five Classics. It wasn't just for virtue's sake—it was so they could understand the exam questions.
It seemed she would need to study those texts eventually. Nothing fancy—just enough to understand human speech would do.
But until then...
Yun Shu looked serene, her tone composed. "What does Grand Preceptor Ye think?"
"This humble servant believes... none of them are correct."
Yun Shu raised a brow.
So it was a trap all along. Good thing she was clever enough not to blunder into it.
She kept her expression neutral. "Why do you say so?"
"Because the scholar who proposed the question mentioned he hails from Kangzhou. That would mean the exam question also originated in Kangzhou."
Ye Qing'an either didn't realize Yun Shu had no idea what the scholars had been arguing, or he chose not to expose her. Instead, he explained patiently:
"There is no absolute right or wrong in policy arguments.
The key lies in whether the response aligns with the examiner's perspective.
The previous prefect of Kangzhou was dismissed from office because he attempted to flatter the Emperor by investing heavily in education. He established countless academies to recruit poor scholars, hoping to gain favor by promoting moral cultivation.
However, in doing so, he ignored the victims of a severe drought that struck that year. His negligence during the crisis provoked the Emperor's wrath. That is why he was removed, and the current prefect appointed.
In this light, the prompt—whether to govern first or educate first—becomes a political question. To support education is to side with the former prefect. To favor governance is to support the latter.
Now then, does Your Highness believe the current prefect would appreciate examinees who side with his predecessor—or with him?"
"Naturally, he would favor those who support him."
Yun Shu suddenly understood.
When framed this way, it all became so much clearer. All that quarreling over nothing... None of the scholars even grasped what was truly at stake.
"Your Highness must be wondering," Ye Qing'an continued, "why they would argue so heatedly, even knowing what the examiners prefer."
It was as if he could read her mind. Yun Shu didn't even need to ask.
"The truth is, they don't know. They've never heard of the Kangzhou prefects' affairs.
It is often said that poor scholars cannot match those born into noble families. And while that's true, the disparity does not lie solely in education.
More often than not, the difference lies in access to information."
Ye Qing'an stood with hands clasped behind his back, gazing through the narrow gap in the doorway at the arguing scholars within. In them, he seemed to see countless other poor students across the land, isolated and uninformed.
"Sons of noble houses have countless ways to learn about high-ranking officials—their histories, their policies, even the Emperor's preferences. With such insights, they tailor their essays to please the examiners.
That advantage is immense."
"So what Grand Preceptor means is, if poor scholars also had access to this kind of information, the gap between them and the nobility might shrink?"
"Exactly."
Ye Qing'an sighed when he saw Yun Shu understood.
"But it is no easy task. I—"
"It's not hard at all."
"...What?"
Ye Qing'an had indeed brought Yun Shu here hoping she might devise a solution, but he never expected her to declare it would be so easy.
For a moment, he could scarcely believe his ears. His gaze burned with sudden intensity.
"Does Your Highness already have a plan?"
"I do."
Yun Shu nodded innocently.
"We simply need to publish more volumes of Three Years of Imperial Examinations, Five Years of Simulations."
"The... what simulation?"
Ye Qing'an looked utterly lost.
"Is this a book?"
"Of course. A book."
It was a rare delight to see Grand Preceptor Ye, a man normally unshakable when discussing the imperial exam, look so bewildered.
Mimicking his earlier lecturing pose, Yun Shu clasped her hands behind her back and paced a few steps with mock gravitas.
"The court exam is held once every three years. So we collect all the provincial trial questions from the past three years across the empire. Alongside each question, we include annotated model essays—explaining why one answer scored high, and why another failed to rank at all.
This way, examinees can grasp which events shaped the empire during those years, and how the court responded. That is the Three Years of Imperial Examinations."
"As for the Five Years of Simulations, it's even simpler. We take significant events from the past five years and use them to design mock exam prompts. In plain terms, it's... targeted preparation."