Chapter Forty-Two: The Prodigy's Selection (With gratitude to "I Love Monster Yingying" for becoming our leader)

When Zhang Yue heard Master Zhuang speak so, he smiled and asked directly, “Oh? Then, Master Zhuang, what benefits do you hope to gain from this?”

Master Zhuang found Zhang Yue’s words rather blunt. Still, he did not address it directly, but instead smiled and said, “Sanlang, let’s put the question of benefits aside for now. May I first ask, Sanlang, are you a disciple of Mencius?”

Zhang Yue smiled again, realizing Master Zhuang was still probing his background. Naturally, Zhang Yue understood that unless he demonstrated sufficient talent and learning, the other man would not believe that the "Three Character Classic" was truly his own work.

Thus, Zhang Yue replied, “I made it very clear in my Three Character Poem. At the beginning of life, human nature is inherently good. From birth, a person possesses compassion, a sense of shame, humility, and a sense of right and wrong—these four beginnings are innate in us and can be called the roots of goodness. Therefore, it is right to say that human nature is originally good.”

The idea that people are similar by nature but grow apart through habit has long been a Confucian tradition and needs no further explanation. The main debate lies between the doctrines of innate goodness and innate evil.

Confucius himself never claimed that human nature was wholly good or evil, but advocated that people should receive a proper education from a young age. Yet his grand-disciple Xunzi later proposed the theory of innate evil, which became the foundation for the Legalist school, while Mencius advocated the goodness of human nature—a position embraced by the later School of Mencius and the foundational claim of Neo-Confucianism.

Apart from the doctrine of goodness, Zhang Yue was no rote-learned transmigrator. For instance, in the Three Character Classic’s account of history, phrases like “The Yan Song dynasty rose, received the Zhou abdication,” followed by “passed through eighteen reigns, chaos between North and South,” down to “all history, ancient and modern, lies herein”—these dozens of lines were later additions, revised in the late Qing period. The original Southern Song version only went as far as “The Yan Song dynasty rose, received the Zhou abdication,” and Zhang Yue had carefully omitted the later parts, continuing instead with “recording order and chaos, knowing rise and fall.”

He considered himself quite meticulous, so he did not expect any major problems.

Master Zhuang’s expression now grew grave as he said, “I am enlightened. So Sanlang is truly a disciple of Mencius.”

“But what of this ‘Old Su at twenty-seven, began to strive, and study books’—what does it mean? Who is this Old Su? I have read all my life but know not which dynasty he belongs to.”

Hearing this, Zhang Yue glanced at his left and right hands, nearly giving himself a slap on the spot.

Who is Old Su? The father of Su Shi.

It was true that Su Xun only began studying in earnest at twenty-seven, but at this point, he had only just brought his two sons to the capital, gaining fame through Ouyang Xiu’s recommendation. That was a matter of this year and the next—yet Zhang Yue had already included his name in the Three Character Classic? That was careless!

But now, seeing no way out, Zhang Yue could only brazen it through. “Ha! Sir, you don’t know of Old Su?”

Master Zhuang was surprised. “There really is such a man?”

Zhang Yue smiled faintly. “Has sir read the ‘Heng Lun’?”

“I have not. What about the ‘Quan Shu’?”

“That I have read. And the ‘Ji Ce’?”

Master Zhuang looked bewildered and shook his head. Zhang Yue’s series of questions made him feel rather ignorant.

As long as you haven’t read them, I’m relieved. I haven’t read them either—only remember the titles.

Zhang Yue continued with an air of regret, “Old Su’s essays are such that, even should Liu Xiang and Jia Yi return to life, they would not surpass him. These are not my words, but those of Master Ouyang.”

“Ouyang of the capital?”

“Indeed. The name of Old Su has already spread throughout the capital long ago. For you to only now read his writings is already late. And not only him—if you ask me, the fame of the Three Sus will soon be known throughout the realm.”

“The Three Sus?”

Zhang Yue gave him a look as if to say, “You don’t even know that?” “He has two sons, both dragons among men.”

“I have been enlightened. Who would have thought that Sanlang, without ever leaving the county, would know of such men from the capital… truly…”

At this, Zhang Yue could only smile and say nothing.

“That’s right, Sanlang. You have named ‘The Great Learning, Analects, Doctrine of the Mean, and Mencius’ as the Four Books. What is your basis for this? Which classical source does it come from?”

Zhang Yue smiled. “It is merely my own suggestion. The Four Books, also called the Four Masters’ Books—the Great Learning from Zengzi, the Analects from Confucius, the Doctrine of the Mean from Zisi, and Mencius from Mencius himself. Thus I call them the Four Masters’ Books.”

Master Zhuang laughed, “I fear this would be fiercely debated in court. Many would contest it.”

Zhang Yue replied, “I have already said, this is but my own humble opinion.”

Master Zhuang smiled. “Sanlang, you may not know: in Han times, those who passed the filial and incorrupt examination were made officials; talented youths were made junior officials. Our dynasty continues this tradition and has a Divine Child examination!”

“In the reign of Emperor Zhenzong, there was a boy who could recite the Book of Changes at six, and the court granted him the title of Divine Child. In our dynasty, children of nine, ten, or twelve who become officials through the Divine Child exam are not rare at all.”

Master Zhuang smiled as if to point out a bright path for Zhang Yue. “Anyone who can compose such a poem is undoubtedly a prodigy. In my view, you can become famous with your Three Character Poem, submit it to the court, and you will be summoned to the capital for examination. Should you succeed, you will be granted an official post. In your poem, you even mention ‘Tang’s Liu Yan, only seven years, was selected as a prodigy, and became Corrector.’ This Liu Yan was appointed through the Divine Child exam.”

During the Tang, there was a regular Divine Child examination for children under ten; as long as one could master a classic, one could be made an official, hence there were often strapping “children” taking the exam. In the Song, the exam was changed to a special imperial selection, held only by imperial edict. Unlike regular exams, the imperial exam required recommendation. Song’s child prodigy exam candidates had to be under fifteen and recommended by local officials, finally to be examined by the Emperor.

For example, the famous Yan Shu passed at fourteen and was granted office through the Divine Child test. But the most extraordinary was Cai Boxi, who passed the prodigy exam at only three years old and was appointed on the spot by Emperor Zhenzong, who even composed a poem praising him: “The seven Min’s mountains and waters produce much talent; a prodigy of three emerges in this flourishing age.”

But the Divine Child exam was not without problems. The search for prodigies led many to overburden their sons, forcing them to memorize all Five Classics, faking ages, seeking connections for fame—all of which led to resentment against the system. Thus, from the child-prodigy-admiring times of Emperors Taizong and Zhenzong, by Emperor Renzong’s reign, especially among officials, enthusiasm had waned.

Generally, officials from the Divine Child exam were given posts but not actual responsibilities—in other words, the court gave them a stipend but no real work. For instance, Yang Yi of the Yang family from Pucheng was recommended by the Transport Commissioner Zhang Quhua and examined by Emperor Taizong, attaining office at eleven. Yet, it was only after passing the imperial examination in the third year of Chunhua that his official career truly began.

Still, Master Zhuang had indeed pointed out a path for Zhang Yue. Submitting the Three Character Classic to the county would benefit local education, and for the authorities, having such a text would be seen as an auspicious sign of a flourishing age. Zhang Yue could gain both fame and an official post.

But Zhang Yue knew his own limitations—his learning was still shallow, having memorized only up to the Book of Songs, with six of the Nine Classics yet to be studied. If recommended now, he would surely be exposed at the first test. He might be able to fool Master Zhuang, but not the high officials of the court. There was no need to rush; with another year or two of study, he would still be eligible for the Divine Child exam.

So Zhang Yue said, “Thank you for your kindness, sir. The Three Character Poem is a family teaching and not suitable for disclosure at present. How about this: I will write to my second brother for advice and give you my answer after.”

“If my brother agrees, I will gladly rely on your guidance.”

Master Zhuang pondered a moment. Zhang Yue’s reply was neither a refusal nor acceptance.

Master Zhuang smiled, “Sanlang, do you hesitate because you fear others will doubt that you wrote the poem?”

“Indeed, that is so. At my age, such a work is hard for others to believe. While the language is simple, outsiders would never think a twelve-year-old could compose it. If some begin to doubt, the suspicion will only grow, and the reputation of a prodigy would be tarnished—a flaw in the white jade, so to speak, and most regrettable.”

“What then, in your opinion?”

Master Zhuang stroked his beard and chuckled, “So, I have a humble suggestion—a somewhat presumptuous request. If Sanlang were to become my student, allowing me to polish your Three Character Poem, then any implausible points would become reasonable.”

So that was his true intention.

“Sir, you mean to collaborate on the Three Character Poem?”

Master Zhuang smiled, waving his hand, “I would not presume—but hope you might share some of the fame. And I must be frank: I am very close with Dean Li of the state academy; we often compose poetry together. If you are to be recommended for the prodigy exam, it is but a word from Dean Li.”

A village tutor close to the state academy’s dean? Such claims were not entirely credible.

Master Zhuang smiled, “No need to hurry, Sanlang; give it some thought.”

With that, Master Zhuang rose to leave.

When he reached the stairs, Zhang Shi had returned carrying the food box and urged, “Sir, you promised to stay for a meal—why rush off? Third Brother, persuade him to stay!”

Master Zhuang smiled, “I have matters to attend—I dare not linger. Sanlang, I will visit again in a few days.”

“Very well.”

With that, Master Zhuang left in haste, and in his distraction, stubbed his toe on the door on his way out.

Zhang Yue smiled faintly at the sight.

After seeing Master Zhuang off, Zhang Shi returned and asked, “Third Brother, what did the master say to you?”

Zhang Yue replied, “Recently, I wrote a poem and gave it to Ah Xi to show Master Zhuang. He wants to submit it to the state academy.”

Zhang Shi was astonished, “Such good fortune!”

“But I did not agree.”

“Why not? It’s such a great opportunity…”

Zhang Yue patted his stomach, “Brother, I’m hungry. Let’s eat and talk.”

Zhang Shi shook his head, “You always put food first. Help me set the table. Ah Xi, go upstairs and call mother down to eat. Third Brother, tell me the whole story…”

“Alright,” Zhang Yue replied absent-mindedly, then looked up out the window to see that snow had begun to fall.

A northern wind howled, blowing even harder now. Passersby on the street hurried home—the evening meal was near.

“Brother, today is bitterly cold,” Zhang Yue said, rubbing his hands.

“Of course! How could it not be cold at New Year’s? Look, it’s snowing. Snow is good—a timely snow promises a good harvest!” said Zhang Shi, pouring the food from the box into bowls.

Beside them, Zhang Qiu came skipping down the stairs, “Father, why does snow promise a good harvest?”

“Ask your Third Uncle!”

“Third Uncle?”

Zhang Yue said as he set the plates, “Because heavy snow kills the pests that eat the rice in the fields, so the crops will grow especially well next year.”

“Third Uncle knows everything!”

“Don’t flatter—did you call your mother down?”

Zhang Qiu shook his head, “Father, mother says she’s not eating.”

“That won’t do,” said Zhang Shi, setting things down. “Third Brother, help out. I’ll go upstairs and persuade your sister-in-law—really, where does her temper come from? And don’t forget to tell me about Master Zhuang.”

“Yes, brother, but mind your words and apologize to sister-in-law!” Zhang Yue began arranging the dishes, slipping a piece of goose meat into Zhang Qiu’s mouth.

Zhang Qiu beamed as he gnawed the meat.

Zhang Yue licked the grease from his fingers.

“At last, wife, you’re coming down. Third Brother, is the food ready?”

“All set!” Zhang Yue called out. Zhang Qiu wiped the grease from his mouth with his sleeve.

As Zhang Yue brought the food to the table, the wind and snow outside grew fiercer.

The hills surrounding the county town were now capped in white, while the slopes below remained green.

In this bitter cold, every household glowed with lantern light. The wind and snow drove people indoors, where families gathered at the table, sharing the festival together. The sound of toasts and laughter drifted from afar, and the spirit of the New Year gradually filled the air.

Ps: Thanks to book friend “I Love Strange Boy Yingying” for becoming the fourth patron of this novel!