Chapter 121: First-Time Examiner Faces a Dilemma, Quick Wit Resolves the Impasse

Lin Shiya sat at the desk, her fingertips brushing lightly over the smooth, jade-like rice paper. Outside the window, the wind stirred the bamboo, creating a rustling sound, yet the room was so quiet she could almost hear her own heartbeat. She took a deep breath; the scent of sandalwood lingered at the tip of her nose, but it could not soothe the heavy sense of responsibility weighing upon her heart. The imperial examination concerned the prosperity of the nation, and the selection of talent was of the utmost importance. Being the one to draft the questions this time, the significance of her task went without saying.

She stared at the blank space, as if facing an immense puzzle or gazing into infinite possibilities. She picked up her wolf-hair brush and dipped it into the thick ink, the darkness of the ink contrasting sharply with the purity of the paper. Slowly, she began to write. The character "Change" leapt onto the paper, written with such force that it seemed to penetrate the fibers, carrying with it a determination to break the old and establish the new. Once the character was finished, she did not immediately proceed to draft the questions; instead, she fell into deep contemplation. In this examination, she was not only to select scholars of great talent but also to drive a reform of the system and shatter the shackles of the past.

Suddenly, footsteps approached from afar. Lin Shiya set down her brush and looked up to see the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, Liu, walking slowly toward her. He wore his official robes with a solemn expression, each step steady and powerful, as if radiating an unquestionable authority. As he reached her desk, his gaze swept over the rice paper, and his brows furrowed slightly upon noticing the prominent character "Change." He did not speak at once but picked up the brush she had just set down, examining it closely as if scrutinizing an invisible opponent.

"Master Lin," Vice Minister Liu finally spoke, his tone carrying a faint, imperceptible pressure, "the imperial examination is a matter of state importance. Drafting questions requires caution and must not be done rashly. The precedents inherited through generations have their own logic and should not be altered lightly." He replaced the brush, his movements gentle yet filled with an unwavering force.

Lin Shiya looked at him calmly, not flinching under his tone. She understood that his words were not without merit, but her own thoughts were vastly different. "The Vice Minister is quite right; the examination should indeed prioritize stability, but stability does not mean remaining stagnant." She rose slowly and stood before him, her gaze firm and clear. "The world has changed; if we remain bound by old methods, I fear we will fail to select true talent."

Vice Minister Liu’s expression grew even more severe. He stared at her intently, as if trying to see through her. "What does Master Lin mean by this? Are you suggesting we break the rules of our ancestors and forge a new path?"

Lin Shiya did not answer. She picked up the paper with the word "Change" and held it up, saying calmly, "I simply believe that some questions can no longer measure true capability."

Vice Minister Liu’s eyes sharpened, and just as he was about to speak, Lin Shiya continued, "Perhaps the Vice Minister would like to see the questions I have drafted?" Her voice was clear and cool, like a mountain spring, carrying an undeniable strength. She spread out the rice paper in her hand, which, in addition to the prominent "Change," featured several carefully crafted questions. Each one broke free from the old patterns, carrying a breath of fresh air.

Pointing to one, she explained to the Vice Minister, "My Lord, please look at this: 'On the Changes in Agriculture and Commerce.' It does not merely test classical studies but asks the candidates to integrate current realities and discuss the path for agricultural and commercial development. This will help identify those who truly understand the suffering of the people and possess the talent to benefit the world." She pointed to another. "This one, 'On the Management of Water Conservancy,' aims to test a candidate's ability to solve practical problems, rather than merely engaging in empty talk and quoting classics." She spoke eloquently, drawing from ancient water engineering to current agricultural dilemmas, citing historical precedents with such conviction that every word struck the hearts of those present. Her voice was resolute, like a sharp sword cleaving through old chains, bringing the light of new ideas into the solemn hall.

Vice Minister Liu listened, his brows gradually relaxing, the scrutiny in his eyes slowly turning into contemplation. He was not a rigid man; he had simply grown accustomed to the old ways. Lin Shiya’s words allowed him to see new possibilities. These questions would not only test a candidate's knowledge but also their capacity for problem-solving—a quality undoubtedly more vital for selecting those who would govern the nation. He sighed inwardly, acknowledging that Lin Shiya was indeed a talent not to be underestimated.

"What Master Lin says is indeed reasonable," the Vice Minister finally said, his tone carrying a touch of appreciation. "The imperial examination truly needs to keep pace with the times and should not be confined by the past. The questions you have drafted are original and excellent."

Lin Shiya smiled faintly, like a spring breeze, yet with a hint of sharp edge that was hard to perceive. She scanned the surroundings, clearly capturing the varied expressions on the faces of others. Just as she was about to elaborate on her ideas, a loud, booming reprimand erupted like a thunderclap.

"Absurd!"

Old Scholar Chen strode in, furious, his beard trembling with rage. Pointing at Lin Shiya, he barked, "The imperial examination is a pillar of the nation! How dare you act so recklessly? You are destroying the very foundation of the exams! How can you change the rules inherited through generations at your whim?!" His voice was so loud it seemed to make the entire room tremble.

All eyes turned to Lin Shiya, the pressure like a tangible weight pinning her to the spot. The air seemed to freeze, the heavy atmosphere making it difficult to breathe. Old Scholar Chen’s roar seemed to herald a coming storm. Lin Shiya did not argue; she simply looked at him quietly, her eyes deep as the sea, showing no fear. She slowly raised the drafted questions once more.

"What do you think you are doing?" the old scholar bellowed, his eyes wide.

Lin Shiya remained composed, looking directly into his flaming eyes, and spoke clearly, "Old Scholar Chen, the purpose of the examination is to select talent for the country, not merely to cling to the old. The state of the world has changed, and the talent we require is different from before. How can we select those capable of governing and helping the people if we remain shackled to convention?" She paused, presenting the questions to everyone. "These questions are not designed to be unconventional for the sake of it; they are meant to test a candidate’s understanding of the current situation, their concern for the people, and their ability to solve real-world problems. Is this not what the imperial court needs most today?"

The old scholar was stunned by her series of rhetorical questions and found himself at a loss for words. He huffed and puffed, wanting to retort but unable to find a suitable argument. Lin Shiya’s points were logically sound, leaving him no room to challenge them. He could only grunt indignantly and sweep out of the room, leaving behind a stiff, retreating figure.

His departure did not bring relaxation to Lin Shiya. Looking around at the mountains of documents, she felt the weight of the tasks pressing down on her. Time was short, the burden was heavy, and she felt an unprecedented pressure. Her fingertips brushed the rough paper, bringing a sense of reality that made the weight on her shoulders even clearer. Outside, the sky grew dim, and the dim candlelight inside reflected on her weary face, making her look even more haggard. She rubbed her aching temples, took a deep breath, and buried herself once more in the files. The rustle of paper was exceptionally clear in the quiet room, sounding like the footsteps of her race against time.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

A knock at the door broke the silence. Lin Shiya looked up, rubbing her sore eyes. "Come in."

The door opened, and an attendant walked in, holding an exquisite wooden box. "Master Lin, this is..."

Before he could finish, Lin Shiya recognized the mark on the box. Her heart skipped a beat, and an inexplicable premonition washed over her. She took the box, her fingertips touching the cool wooden surface, and a strange sensation spread through her entire body.

"Who sent this?" Lin Shiya asked, her voice trembling slightly.

The attendant bowed his head and replied, "It was sent by... a gentleman who did not wish to reveal his name."

Lin Shiya slowly opened the box, and a faint scent of sandalwood wafted out, like a breeze on a spring morning, sweeping away some of the fatigue in her heart. Inside lay a letter, the paper delicate and smooth, emitting a subtle fragrance of ink. She carefully took it out and unfolded it. The elegant handwriting met her eyes, and a familiar warmth flowed between the lines, like a ray of winter sunshine lighting up every corner of her heart. In the letter, Murong Fu wrote in a relaxed tone about the snowy scenery of Northern Yan, skillfully weaving in words of encouragement. Every sentence revealed his support and trust, as if he were right beside her, whispering comfort.

A warm current flooded her heart, and the corners of her mouth lifted in an involuntary smile. She knew Murong Fu had been supporting her silently, and this wordless companionship gave her immense strength. She pressed the letter gently against her chest, feeling that warmth and finding the courage to face anything. She reignited her fighting spirit and poured all her energy into the final confirmation of the examination questions.

Outside, the night deepened, and the flickering candlelight inside cast a long shadow of her focused figure. She carefully weighed every word and phrase, repeatedly pondering the deep meaning of each question, striving for precision, fairness, and impartiality. Time slipped away second by second, and finally, as the sky in the east turned the color of a fish's belly, she completed her work. Looking at the thick stack of papers before her, she let out a long sigh of relief, a sense of liberation washing over her.

However, just as she thought everything was settled, her gaze suddenly stopped on one of the questions. That question, titled "On the Way of the Sovereign and the Subject," was one she had carefully designed to test the candidates' understanding of the relationship between a ruler and his officials. But now, looking at it again, a sudden sense of unease rose in her heart. She read the question repeatedly, and the more she read, the more the phrasing seemed improper. In the current political climate, this question could easily be exploited by those with ulterior motives, sparking unnecessary controversy or even becoming entangled in sensitive political issues.

Lin Shiya’s brows knit tightly together, a vague sense of crisis looming over her. She realized this question could become a huge hazard, a powder keg capable of triggering a massive uproar. She stood up abruptly, walked to the window, and pushed it open. The cold morning air hit her face, making her realize the severity of the situation even more clearly. She took a deep breath and muttered to herself, "This question... it cannot remain."

Suddenly, a series of urgent knocks sounded at the door, accompanied by the anxious voice of an attendant: "Master Lin, something is wrong!..."