Chapter 66: All Doubts Dispelled (Part One)

The imperial examinations had never once crossed Li Xian’s mind before; he knew little of their intricacies and, had he heard Li Xian broach the topic with such careful seriousness in the past, he would likely have dismissed it with a derisive laugh. Yet, after more than half a year of experience as a provincial prince, Li Xian was no longer the naive youth he once was. Though he had not yet grasped the true importance of the examinations, he could not deny the accuracy of Li Xian’s analysis. During his brief tenure as a regional governor, he had often heard the grumblings of poor scholars about the current selection system, though at the time he had paid them little mind. Now, with Li Xian’s insight, everything became clear in retrospect. Of course, understanding that the examination system needed reform was one thing; whether Li Xian ought to be the one to propose such change was another. To him, it seemed as perilous as snatching chestnuts from the fire—how to reap the benefit without burning his hands became a matter requiring careful thought.

It was difficult—extremely so! Li Xian turned the matter over in his mind time and again, unwillingly admitting he could not find a perfect solution. Thus the issue of gain and loss became starkly apparent: to win the favor of impoverished scholars would inevitably offend the powerful aristocratic families, a zero-sum game that could not be avoided. The problem was, the moment he proposed such reform, before he could win over the scholars, he would have already antagonized the great clans. That alone was enough to make Li Xian hesitate. Even so, since the proposal came from Li Xian, he was unwilling to dismiss it outright, and could only ponder in silence how best to decline without giving offense.

“Seventh Brother, since you say the examinations must change, how exactly would you go about it?”

Though Li Xian had already decided in his heart to refuse, he did not wish to show his hand so soon. He weighed his words carefully and asked with deliberate caution.

“Brother, I have given this much thought and have some ideas. First, though our Tang army is powerful, our generals are aging and successors are lacking. Yet, among the common people, there are many men of talent. Why not draw upon them? Thus, I propose we establish military examinations to select officers. The subjects might include military strategy, mounted archery, foot archery, lance skills, and endurance. Those excelling in the county examinations would be deemed military scholars; in the prefectural, military graduates; and all military graduates would qualify for the triennial imperial examination, where those who passed would become military presented scholars and receive military appointments. In this way, we could select the finest officers for the army.

Second, the current civil examinations are overly complicated—besides the presented scholar exam, there are exams in classics, arithmetic, and technical skills. Instead of serving the nation, these only benefit the great families and should be abolished. I believe that arithmetic and technical exams can be retained for selecting specialized talent for the Ministry of Works, but the classics exam is a trivial pursuit, unnecessary for selecting officials and should be eliminated, replaced by the presented scholar exam. However, this too must be reformed: apart from retaining the procedures of the military examination, the subjects should be updated. Policy essays and classical argumentation should form the core, with poetry and rhapsody as supplements. The scale of recruitment should be greatly increased. If so, we need not worry about missing exceptional talents or lacking capable officials.”

Li Xian’s eloquence was remarkable; he spoke in a steady stream, without even pausing for breath. His arguments were coherent and practical; even though Li Xian had resolved not to accept the proposal, he could not help but be drawn in by its substance.

“Seventh Brother, you have written a fine essay. If it were my decision, I would surely support it. Alas…”

Li Xian hesitated for some time but could find no reason to reject the plan outright. At a loss, he could only sigh and shake his head, his refusal clear despite his unfinished words.

Li Xian’s gentle refusal was exactly as Li Xian had anticipated. The reason was simple: reform always comes at a price, especially reform that threatens entrenched interests—it would stir up a storm that could capsize the boat, and Li Xian was not yet in a position to withstand such waves. Besides, Li Xian never intended for him to present the proposal himself, so he was unconcerned by his reluctance. Certainly, Li Xian was well aware of the risks involved, but he had no choice. Even if he did not raise the matter, before long the Empress would, with much the same aim: to promote officials from humble origins and use them for her own ends. Since that was the case, Li Xian would not willingly let her reap all the benefit. As for the risks, to an idle prince like Li Xian, they were of little consequence—he held no office, no power, and thus had nothing to lose. As for being cursed, Li Xian cared little: a few insults would hardly cost him anything.

“Sixth Brother, if you could decide the matter, would this plan succeed?” Li Xian had his own intentions but did not reveal them immediately, instead smiling as he pressed the question.

“Hm, if so, it might be feasible. In the long run, it would benefit the state, but not in the short term. Forgive my bluntness—if I submit this plan, I will become a public enemy overnight and will be hard-pressed to cope. It is not unwillingness, but inability.” Li Xian, sensing that Li Xian was not giving up, grew anxious and simply stated his own view.

“That is well said, Sixth Brother, for I think much the same. The sages have said: if it benefits the state, one should risk life and death. I am but unworthy, yet am willing to act. I will submit the proposal and, if all is arranged, you can carry it forward. Let the blame fall on me—I do not believe a little infamy can harm me.” As soon as Li Xian finished, Li Xian clapped his hands and laughed heartily, speaking with passionate resolve.

“Oh? And how could this be?”

Li Xian was moved by Li Xian’s confidence—if he could benefit from the examinations without offending the noble families, it would be ideal. Yet, two doubts prevented him from deciding. First, how could the plan be executed to achieve those ends? Second, though he could not voice it, he wondered—why was Li Xian so eager to help him? For days he had puzzled over this question, but found no answer. Now, it resurfaced like a ghost in his mind, but he could not ask directly, so he only hinted at it.

“Did you not mention earlier that you would submit a proposal on the grain transport? Since others will benefit there, you should be compensated elsewhere. Father is wise and will not wrong you. Once the grain transport matter is settled, I will submit my proposal. Would that not go smoothly?” Li Xian, aware of the double meaning in Li Xian’s question, pretended only to understand the surface and replied cheerfully.

“Hm, that may be, but the matter is complex and must be handled with care. My ability is limited; I must consider it further. Perhaps we should discuss this another time?” Li Xian, always astute, immediately saw through Li Xian’s suggestion, but with the fundamental question unresolved, he was unwilling to commit. He hesitated and replied, his words carrying a hint of dismissal.

“Indeed. It is late, and you must be weary from your journey. I shall not delay your rest any longer.” Hearing Li Xian’s reply, Li Xian did not linger—some things cannot be explained in words, and even if they could, they might not convince. Better to let Li Xian come to his own understanding. With that, Li Xian rose, smiled, and took his leave.

“Seventh Brother, take care. I will not see you out.” Preoccupied, Li Xian did not press him to stay. He stood, nodded, and watched Li Xian depart, then began to pace the room, restless and agitated. Though he paced back and forth, his thoughts were muddled, yielding nothing. Frustrated, he returned to his chamber, hastily washed, and lay down fully clothed to brood. Before he knew it, he drifted into a half-waking, half-dreaming state…

“Outrageous! Who is making such a racket outside?”

Just as Li Xian was finally drifting into a restful sleep, he was startled awake by a sudden commotion. He bolted upright, his voice thundering in anger.

“Please forgive us, Your Highness!”

Though Li Xian had grown more composed over the past months, his temper could still be terrifying when provoked. The two young maids attending him were so frightened that they fell to their knees, trembling and kowtowing for mercy.

“Your Highness, are you all right?”

Hearing the disturbance, Zhang Che led several guards in. Seeing Li Xian so furious, most were flustered, but Zhang Che kept his wits and hurried forward to bow and inquire.

“All right? Hmph! What’s causing such chaos outside? Speak!”

Irritated and sleep-deprived, Li Xian glared at Zhang Che and barked his question.

“Your Highness, it’s Prince Zhou leading his men in martial exercises.” Zhang Che, knowing his master’s temper, instinctively shrank back but quickly explained.

“Martial exercises? At this hour?” Realizing it was Li Xian’s doing, Li Xian could not vent his anger and replied begrudgingly.

“Well…” Zhang Che paused awkwardly, then said, “Your Highness, it is already the fifth quarter of the mao hour.”

“Oh.” At this, Li Xian realized he had simply overslept, not that others had caused a disturbance. He shook his head, said nothing further, and fell silent.

“Your Highness, I have heard that Prince Zhou never neglects his training, even on the road. At every posting house these days, he has disturbed the entire station with his exercises. If you wish, I can ask him to be more considerate?” Seeing Li Xian’s face still dark, Zhang Che tried to please him.

“Hmph, is this a matter for someone of your station? Withdraw at once!” Though displeased, Li Xian did not lose his wits. He would not have Zhang Che actually go and antagonize Li Xian—if he angered him, relations could sour. Thus, he glared at Zhang Che and dismissed him coldly.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Zhang Che was no fool. He had only mentioned Li Xian to defuse Li Xian’s anger. Now, seeing he was dismissed, he quickly complied and led the others away.

“Wait—just now you said my seventh brother has been diligent in his training these days. Is that true?” Before Zhang Che reached the door, Li Xian’s suspicious voice called him back.

“It’s true. I have already sent people to confirm it.” Zhang Che did not understand why Li Xian was so intent on this, but he answered without hesitation.

“Oh?” Li Xian nodded absently, then, as if struck by a sudden thought, furrowed his brow. After a moment, his eyes brightened, his brow lifted, and he burst out laughing, filled with a sudden, almost joyful enlightenment. Zhang Che and the others, hearing this, were left utterly bewildered, unable to fathom what could be so amusing.