Volume One: The Warden and the Scholar Chapter Nineteen: An Unavoidable Acceptance

This was the expression on Huang Ming’s face at that moment.

It was as if ten thousand alpacas thundered past in a stampede.

Such was the state of Huang Ming’s heart.

The result delivered by the messenger from Huang Jin was simply absurd beyond belief, catching him utterly off guard.

Wasn’t he promised a near-certain place in the Embroidered Guards? How had it, in the blink of an eye, turned into an appointment for him to study at the Imperial Academy?

What kind of reward was this? Was this not mockery in disguise?

Moreover, this decision wasn’t made by some obscure official, but was settled after deliberation between the Emperor, Yang Tinghe, and other high ministers of the court. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed!

What virtues or abilities did he, Huang Ming, possess? As such a minor figure, having made only the smallest contribution, how had his name reached the Emperor and the Grand Secretary, and even warranted their concern for such an arrangement?

Did that make sense? Was it logical?

Countless grievances churned within Huang Ming, and he felt he would suffocate if he could not voice them. Yet bound by circumstance and status, he could utter not a word, and could only sit there with a peculiar expression, silent for a long time.

“Ahem…”

After waiting a good while without any reaction from Huang Ming, Huang Bingkun, who had come especially to deliver the message, at last could not help himself and spoke in a low voice: “Young Master Huang, this comes at the command of His Majesty. The Ministry of Rites will soon issue the relevant documents, and the Imperial Academy will send your decree of appointment, so…”

“I understand. I’ll do as I’m told. I won’t make things difficult for my father,” Huang Ming finally came to himself and nodded his assent.

Only then did Huang Bingkun breathe a sigh of relief: “Young Master, you needn’t worry. You’re still young. A few years of study at the Imperial Academy can only bode well for your future prospects. What’s more, you’ve caught His Majesty’s attention—this will be of great benefit to you down the line.”

“Is that so?” Huang Ming’s mouth twitched; inwardly, he thought, who would believe that?

Though his time in the Ming Dynasty had been brief and he was still ignorant of many things in this era, he knew well enough what the Imperial Academy represented.

If this were the Hongwu era, gaining entry to the Academy as a reward for one’s merits would have been a tremendous honor and favor. At that time, graduates of the Imperial Academy could immediately secure important posts in the court, and even those who withdrew were considered more distinguished than the successful candidates of the civil service examinations.

But that was more than a hundred years ago. Since the reign of Hongwu, the imperial examination system in the Ming Dynasty had become ever more refined, and the situation had fundamentally changed.

By now, the entire civil officialdom of Ming was almost wholly monopolized by examination graduates. The loftier and more critical the position, the more it was reserved for the jinshi of the top two lists—those who excelled in the final palace examination. Even the third list of jinshi, and the provincial graduates who failed the metropolitan examination, were unqualified for the highest offices.

As for what he was about to become—a student at the Imperial Academy—well…

Such students were inferior in both status and reputation, not even as well regarded as the lowest degree-holders and child pupils. In the current officialdom, students of the Imperial Academy had almost no place at all.

Though the Academy still existed and accepted a handful of students each year, aside from a rare few of exceptional talent, most were simply passing the days idly. More often than not, it was the most hopeless sons of nobles or officials who were sent there, as a means to feign respectability, though in truth, they had no future to speak of.

To expect Huang Ming to be among the rare few who achieved scholarly success was to ask the impossible.

Since starting work in his twenties, he had not opened a textbook outside his field—what scholarly ability could he possibly have now? Let alone master the Four Books and Five Classics that formed the core of the curriculum—he had not the slightest foundation in them.

In short, this arrangement thoroughly disrupted Huang Ming’s plans, leaving him with the gnawing suspicion that he was being deliberately targeted.

Yet, how could someone like Yang Tinghe, the Grand Secretary and chief minister, be bothered to plot against an insignificant figure like him, just because he was Huang Jin’s son?

Huang Ming could not make sense of it, but in the end, he could only accept the reality.

After assuring Huang Bingkun that he would comply with the court’s arrangements and report to the Imperial Academy as instructed, he sent the man on his way.

…

That evening, after nightfall, Yang Tinghe returned home in his sedan chair, having spent the day occupied with cabinet affairs.

As the de facto head of the Ming Dynasty, Yang Tinghe had far too many affairs of state to decide. In order not to betray the trust placed in him by the court and the people, he was always cautious and diligent, never daring to slack for a moment.

Even at home, after his evening meal, he would busy himself in the study until midnight before finally resting.

On this night, however, his work was interrupted. There was only one person in the household who dared to intrude at such a time—his son, Yang Shen.

Yang Shen, now over thirty, was not at all like the typical young master of a high official’s family. Not only was he highly capable, but his credentials were outstanding: he was the top scorer in the imperial examinations of the sixth year of Zhengde, with an even higher starting point in officialdom than his illustrious father.

For ten years, relying on his own talents and his father’s influence, his career had advanced smoothly, and now he was a most esteemed official in the Hanlin Academy, a lecturer at the imperial lectures, a true close minister to the Emperor.

Because of this, Yang Shen carried himself with a certain pride, which only his father could temper.

“Father, this is the ginseng soup just prepared in the kitchen,” Yang Shen said upon entering, setting the bowl softly on the desk.

Yang Tinghe did not even look up, continuing to write for a while before pausing to ask, “You didn’t come just to bring me soup, did you?”

“Nothing escapes you, father…” Yang Shen smiled. “I heard that after today’s court session, someone brought up the matter of that Huang Ming’s reward. Then, at your suggestion, the decision to admit him to the Embroidered Guards was overturned, and he was sent to the Imperial Academy instead?”

Yang Tinghe glanced at his son, half amused, half not. “So, this suits your wishes?”

“I was only concerned that excessive reward for this man might compromise your greater plans, so I advised restraining him…”

“Not to avenge Zhou Huang’s loss of face?”

Yang Shen blushed slightly, but replied, “There is some truth to that as well. After all, we are of the same cohort… Zhou Huang studied for ten long years, only to be outmaneuvered by the son of a lowly eunuch—that is truly a disgrace to the literati. We must not allow him to become arrogant…”

Yang Tinghe sighed lightly, “You’re still too impulsive. Affairs of court should not be conducted in this fashion.

“This time, I hadn’t even intended to make an issue of it—a post in the Embroidered Guards is a trifling matter. If it were given to him, so be it.”

“Then why the change of heart, father?” Yang Shen asked, genuinely curious.

“Because of Xu Guangzuo. He actually wished to promote that youth as well. That is not a good sign—I had to preempt further developments.”

“Even Xu Guangzuo?” Yang Shen was greatly surprised.

Who was Duke Xu Guangzuo? That he should take notice of a mere youth, the son of a eunuch?

“No need to dwell on it. It’s a trifle—Huang Ming is but a minor figure, not worth your concern.”

After a pause, Yang Tinghe continued, “If he has any sense, he’ll accept the arrangement and quietly become a student at the Imperial Academy.

“As for you, what matters most now is preparing for the final imperial lecture of the year. On the fifteenth of next month, His Majesty will have you deliver it. Don’t allow yourself any mishaps.”

“Rest assured, father. I will devote myself fully,” Yang Shen replied, straightening his bearing.

…