Kays Translations

Chapter 274: Jin Had Feng Fu

When he woke up from his sleep, it was already late afternoon, with the setting sun slanting westward.

When Zhu Ping’an opened his eyes, he saw the question sheet for the first session of the metropolitan examination resting on the makeshift wooden desk beneath his inkstone. Apparently the supervising soldier had seen him sleeping soundly and had chosen not to wake him, simply placing the paper on the desk and weighing it down.

The questions were set by the metropolitan-examination examiners. Once appointed, Ming examiners entered the Gongyuan, which was immediately sealed and heavily guarded—no bird could fly out and no ant could crawl in. They remained inside until the examinations were over, the papers graded, and the rankings settled.

This was meant to preserve the secrecy and fairness of the metropolitan examination and prevent favoritism or leaked questions.

By precedent, the first session of the metropolitan examination contained the same number of questions as the provincial examination: seven in total, three from the Four Books and four from the Five Classics. This was the most important session in the eight-legged-essay system of selecting officials.

It was rumored that the chief examiner for this session was the historically famous Xu Jie, known for toppling Yan Song, a powerful official. Therefore, Zhu Ping’an was very interested in the questions Xu Jie might have crafted with painstaking effort and ingenuity.

Gently pushing aside the rabbit-fur blanket covering him, Zhu Ping’an got up, performed a quick wash, dried his hands, then tidied the desk, neatly arranging brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. He officially began his journey to leap over the dragon gate through the metropolitan examination.

Unfolding the exam paper, the questions for this round of the metropolitan exam appeared before his eyes.

If the first exam was the most important one in the whole metropolitan examination, then the first question was the most crucial of all. The quality of the eight-legged essay written for this first question would almost determine the entire outcome of the examination.

“Among the people of Jin, there was one named Feng Fu; Feng Fu rolled up his sleeves and got out of the carriage.”

This was the first question of this metropolitan examination. For most candidates, it was slightly different from the usual.

Typically, the eight-legged essay questions were chosen from the Four Books—a sentence, a few sentences, or even entire passages—with complete meanings, all emphasizing major moral or political doctrines, related to human ethics and governance. However, such well-formed questions in the Four Books were limited. To prevent candidates from guessing or copying topics, the so-called “fragmented” questions emerged. These were composed by arbitrarily joining or breaking parts of the classical texts to form a question.

Before this special metropolitan examination, such a fragmented question had appeared only once. Although unfamiliar, this fragmented question was relatively straightforward. It was an “emotionally coherent” fragmented question—meaning the beginning and ending parts made logical sense together and were easily understood.

So, examinees were only mildly surprised by it.

The question came from Mencius, Jinxin II: “In Jin there was a man named Feng Fu, skilled at fighting tigers. Later he became a gentleman. Once, in the wilds, a crowd was pursuing a tiger that had taken refuge in a corner, but none dared approach. When they saw Feng Fu, they ran to meet him. Feng Fu rolled up his sleeves and stepped down from his carriage. The crowd rejoiced, while the gentlemen laughed at him.”

Seeing this question, Zhu Ping’an paused and reflected briefly.

Zhu Ping’an recalled the context. Qi was suffering famine, and Chen Zhen told Mencius that the people hoped he would again persuade the King of Qi to open the granaries and relieve them, but wondered whether doing so again would be advisable. Mencius replied that it would make him like Feng Fu, and then told the story.

So, what were the gentlemen mocking Feng Fu for?

Zhu Ping’an pondered carefully. From Mencius’ tone, he did not seem to completely disapprove of Feng Fu’s actions, because “becoming Feng Fu again” actually received public support. It was only the scholars who mocked him.

Would Mencius truly refrain from persuading the King of Qi to help the people just because he feared being mocked by scholars?

Taking into account the current situation of the Ming dynasty—threatened by northern invaders and southern pirates, with frequent famines—Zhu Ping’an understood the question setter’s intent.

So, he ground the ink, spread the paper, and began drafting his eight-legged essay.

“At first, the man of Jin changed his course to follow goodness; in the end, he complied with others and lost himself.”

This was Zhu Ping’an’s opening line—the “breaking of the topic.” It meant: The man from Jin, Feng Fu, initially was able to change his fierce and aggressive ways and become a good and virtuous person. But later, for the sake of others’ safety, he lost his reformed self and once again became aggressive.

This opening both accurately summarized the main point of Mencius’ original statement and set the stage for the subsequent discussion.

Continuing to develop the topic, Zhu Ping’an wrote: Feng Fu had already become a good person, so why did he still go to wrestle the tiger? Mencius likely knew this story and used it as a metaphor for those wanting him to persuade the King of Qi again to open the granaries for famine relief.

After finishing this part, Zhu Ping’an put down his brush, rubbed his forehead with both hands, and fell into deep thought.

The first eight-legged essay could almost decide one’s entire metropolitan-examination result. Standing out among the best examinees in the empire was no easy task. Everyone here was a juren who had already fought through the lower examinations and the provincial examination; their eight-legged-essay foundations were solid.

To stand out—to attract the attention of the examiners among more than 5,000 essays and earn a good rank—writing a safe, standard essay wasn’t enough. Innovation was needed.

He had to make the examiners’ eyes light up.

After some thought, Zhu Ping’an suddenly curled his lips slightly, a gleam like a meteor flashing in his eyes.

Heh. Got it. Then he dipped his brush in ink and resumed writing.

In the middle and concluding sections of the essay, Zhu Ping’an broke from his usual analytical style and instead used vivid description. He depicted the crisis faced by the people before Feng Fu fought the tiger and then described Feng Fu’s tiger-fighting actions in an evocative way.

He still followed the paired and parallel structure required of an eight-legged essay, but replaced much of the abstract argument with vivid narration. Among more than five thousand papers, that approach would certainly make his essay stand out.

As daylight dimmed, Zhu Ping’an lit a candle, brightened the lamp, and wrote the final paragraph of his essay in a tone echoing Mencius’ sentiment:

“Alas! When Feng Fu first fought tigers, he did not know that he would later become a gentleman; once he became a gentleman, he did not expect to fight tigers again. The people now hope that I will again open the granaries at Tang—how is that any different from Feng Fu rolling up his sleeves and stepping down from his carriage?!”

The soldier assigned to supervise Zhu Ping’an’s exam room stared blankly at him writing diligently under the candlelight.

The examinee in the next stinking booth had already vomited seven or eight times, but this candidate didn’t seem affected at all. He ate well, slept soundly—and now, even while answering questions, his writing flowed like water, entirely unfazed by the stench from the adjacent restroom.

After finishing, Zhu Ping’an put down his brush and reread his essay. He nodded in satisfaction.

With this, it was certain that he would not return empty-handed from this metropolitan examination.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter