Chương 91: Book 2 Chapter 5: Expectations

"… and thus, reveals the root of good government. The state is not ordered primarily through punishments and laws, but through the moral rectitude of the ruler and his ministers. When those above are upright, the people below naturally follow. If a ruler governs by punishments alone, the people may obey outwardly but harbor resentment within. However, if he governs through virtue, the people feel shame when they err and strive to improve themselves.

Just as grass bends when the wind blows across it, so the common people incline toward the conduct of those above them.

"In conclusion, to govern is truly to rectify: to make the self upright, to ensure that names correspond to realities, and to lead the people through virtue. When the ruler stands as a model of correctness, none under Heaven will dare to depart from the path of righteousness. Such is the profound meaning of the Master's words." Mo Jian finished his answer, feeling a little parched.

He was accustomed to lecturing people (read: Bai Ning), but speaking in such flowery terms for so long while keeping a straight face took its toll. Still, he reassured himself, that had been an excellent answer. The examiner would have to be impressed.

"Hmm…" one of the shadowy examiners murmured. Mo Jian suppressed a wince. That was not an impressed "hmm." It was more of a judgmental, distinctly unimpressed "hmm." Which, he felt, was unfair. His response to the prompt-"The Master said: 'To govern is to rectify. If you lead the people by being correct, who will dare not to be correct?' Explain the meaning of this passage." - had been, by any reasonable measure, extremely good.

He had cleaved closely to the expected interpretation: that moral example forms the foundation of good governance. He had spoken at length of how rectification must begin with the ruler before flowing downward to the subjects. He had quoted the right passages and gestured at the right ideas. In fact, the question itself had been fairly predictable.

The Four Canonical Texts discussed the hierarchy of moral influence extensively; virtue above law, moral example above punishment, and so on through the usual hierarchies. Privately, Mo Jian thought the whole edifice a load of elegant nonsense. He doubted any ruler in living memory had been genuinely preoccupied with moral obligation, still less with just rule. But it sounded well on paper, and so it had to be said. So, what, exactly, had warranted the dissatisfied " hmm?"

The examiner who had hmm'd did not elaborate. Instead, the leftmost examiner, who had remained mostly silent until now, took the opportunity to ask the next question.

"Candidate, that was well spoken." Nowhere in the examiner's tone was any praise evident.

"You have argued that if a ruler leads through correctness, the people will follow. Very good." They paused.

"Yet history is full of upright men who ruled badly, and wicked men who ruled well. How do you reconcile this?" Ah. Now that was a proper question. Mo Jian considered his options very carefully.

"Well," he began, "the Master speaks of the ideal condition of governance. If virtue is perfectly embodied, the people will naturally incline toward righteousness. Failures arise not because the principle itself is flawed, but because virtue is incomplete." He continued, "Suppose a ruler is virtuous but weak, while another is harsh but effective. Which governs better? That is not merely a rhetorical question. In the short term, harsh methods may impose order. But without virtue, such order cannot endure.

Only moral authority creates lasting stability." The room fell quiet again. Then-"Hmm…" Mo Jian was beginning to hate that hmm. Besides, what else could he have said?

If he answered that yes, wickedness could produce good governance, provided it was properly directed, he would be contradicting the Four Canonical Texts in the middle of an imperial examination, which was either a mark of impressive intellectual daring or grounds for immediate disqualification, depending entirely on the disposition of the examiners behind that table.

On the other hand, if he affirmed the passage too wholeheartedly, the examiners would simply press him on practical governance and expose his answer as naïve idealism. So, he had been forced to tread the narrow middle path, hedging carefully between the two extremes, less because he believed in it, and more because the question had been designed that way. In fact, he was beginning to suspect that these examiners were less interested in the Classics and more interested in tormenting examinees.

For a brief moment, he wondered how Bai Ning was faring. Hopefully her own round was going better than his, because he was starting to suspect that his strong score in the second round might be quietly countermanded by whatever marks he managed to scrape together here. …………………………………………………………… A couple of examination rooms over, two of the three examiners were crying. They were not dabbing at the corners of their eyes, or clearing their throats with dignified emotion.

No, they were openly, unreservedly weeping, in the manner of people who had witnessed something that had shaken their fundamental understanding of the world. The third examiner was holding themselves together, but only just. Their brush had not moved for some time. Bai Ning, the examinee responsible for this scene, stood before them with her hands folded and her expression caught somewhere between polite gratitude and profound unease. She had given many such answers while studying under Mo Jian.

He had never reacted like this; his usual response being a brief nod, occasionally a "not bad," once memorably an almost-smile that he'd immediately suppressed as though it had escaped without permission.

"Such beauty," one examiner managed, voice thick.

"Such an insightful way of weaving interpretations. Truly, my eyes have been opened."

"Ag-agreed," the other sobbed, blowing a ponderous sniffle into the sleeve of their robe. Bai Ning smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head. She had simply selected the relevant passages, arranged them in a sensible order, and spoken them clearly. She had not done anything, to her knowledge, that warranted tears. For a moment, her thoughts drifted to Mo Jian's own interview.

If the examiners questioning her were this overcome, the ones interviewing him must be in an outright frenzy, probably demanding to become his disciples on the spot, weeping and prostrating themselves at his feet. Hmm… perhaps when this round was over, she should exaggerate how well it had gone. Not lie, precisely. Just… manage the details. It wouldn't do to let him grow insufferably smug. The only reason she lagged behind her teacher, she reminded herself firmly, was that he was significantly older.

Not because he was smarter. She was fairly sure about that. ……………………………………………………………………… Mo Jian, meanwhile, was discovering that silence could be an extraordinarily oppressive thing. The three examiners sat behind their long table like carved idols, their faces completely obscured in shadow. No one spoke. No one moved. The only sound in the room was the faint scratch of a brush as one of them made a note.

Mo Jian maintained the respectful posture expected of a candidate, with his back straight, hands folded, and eyes lowered just enough to be deferential without appearing evasive. Inside, however, he was counting. Three breaths. Five breaths. Eight. This was deliberate. They were letting the silence stretch, the way a fisherman lets the line slacken before tugging again. Finally, the middle examiner set their brush down.

"Candidate," they said calmly, "you speak very well of virtue." Mo Jian felt an immediate and profound distrust of any sentence that began that way.

"Yes, Examiner."

"You argue that moral authority creates lasting stability." The examiner tapped the table lightly with one finger.

"Yet the state is not governed by moral authority alone. There are taxes to collect, armies to provision, criminals to punish, officials to supervise." If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Another pause.

"Tell me, if virtue is sufficient, why do we require laws at all?" Ah, so that was the new direction of the trap. Mo Jian resisted the urge to sigh. If he said laws were unnecessary, he would sound like a naive philosopher who had never seen the inside of a government office. If he said laws were primary, he would be contradicting the very orthodoxy he had spent the last quarter hour praising. Which meant, of course, that the only acceptable answer was the one that agreed with both positions simultaneously.

He was beginning to feel less like an examination candidate and more like a man being asked to carry water in a sieve, then judged for the dampness of his hands.

"Laws," he said carefully, "are the instruments of governance, while virtue is its foundation. A house requires both pillars and a roof. Without pillars, the roof cannot stand. Without the roof, the pillars serve no purpose. In the same way, virtue establishes legitimacy, while laws provide structure. When virtue prevails, fewer laws are needed, because the people regulate themselves. When virtue declines, laws multiply, but their effectiveness diminishes." He paused briefly before continuing.

"Consider the early reign of Emperor Wen. His reduction of punishments, his personal frugality, his reluctance to burden the people were not merely symbolic gestures. They produced genuine stability, and that stability endured beyond his reign into that of his son. One could argue that virtue was the primary force, and institutional mechanisms the secondary one, behind that stability."

"One could also argue," said the left examiner, "that Emperor Wen inherited a relatively pacified realm and had the luxury of ruling gently precisely because the hard work had been done before him."

"One could," Mo Jian agreed.

"Though I would note that the same argument could be applied to almost any ruler who governed well in a time of peace. If we discount peaceful reigns as merely lucky inheritances, we are left with only rulers who governed in chaos, and governance in chaos is a poor test of virtue's efficacy, since chaos itself distorts all outcomes." Silence again. Then-"… Hmm." Mo Jian's eye twitched.

At this point, he was beginning to suspect that the examiners had gathered beforehand and sworn a solemn oath to respond to every answer exclusively with that single syllable. ………………………………………………………………………. The examiners were weeping again. Bai Ning had just finished answering the question " How should a minister serve his ruler?" with "… a minister's loyalty is like a shadow, and it follows without seeking glory; yet if the shadow grows long, it warns the sun of its setting." She had thought it a reasonable answer.

Perhaps a little poetic towards the end, but not unreasonably so. The examiners did not appear to share her restraint. Two of them were now openly weeping, and the third, the one who had managed composure on the previous question, had given up entirely and joined them. Bai Ning stood very still and waited for it to pass. It did not immediately pass. She thought, not for the first time, that there was something deeply wrong with this room. Her previous answers had drawn similar reactions. When she had said, "…

when the emperor's virtue shines like Heaven's mandate, ministers follow not out of fear but out of order… therefore a ruler's policies must be founded in clarity, conveyed in practice, and judged not by images but by the welfare of the people," the examiners had nearly wept then too, only barely restraining themselves in favor of praise that had gone on for an uncomfortably long time.

She had a quite healthy view of her own abilities – Mo Jian's voice rang somewhere in the back of her head, muttering something pointed about the word healthy – but this was different. She was selecting lines from the Four Canonical Texts that she had memorized and arranging them coherently. That was the examination. These men were behaving as though no one had ever done it before. Perhaps the interview round was simply a formality.

Yes, the scores would ultimately come down to the first two rounds, and this was just a box to be ticked. That was a much more satisfying explanation than the alternative, which was that she had somehow ended up in a room with the three most emotionally fragile examiners in the entire capital. Finally, one of them gathered themselves. The voice was still slightly unsteady, but the words came through.

"No more questions. Just… no more. You pass." A breath.

"In fact, I will personally make the case for you to be awarded the Top Scholar distinction this year. Such brilliance, such insight, it deserves to be shared with the court…" They trailed into muttering. Bai Ning smiled, nodded deeply in thanks, and made her exit before anyone could start crying again. ……………………………………………………………… Mo Jian was exhausted. Scratch that, he was well past exhausted.

He was sinking into the mire of impossible fatigue, having fallen from the sky and crashed into the tree of tiredness, hitting every energy-sapping branch on the way down, and was now sinking near its roots, wondering if moving was worth the effort. Still, he kept speaking.

"… and the supply chains of the fourth platoon were easily destroyed by the nimble and fleet-footed Yuan contingent, leaving the entire army group to get bogged down in the Mere of the Dead Men. Army commander Yun Cha, seeing the situation deteriorate, ordered a forced march to preserve as many troops as possible, resulting in only a tenth of the army group managing to escape a month after the attack, with nine-tenths dead.

Thus, the lesson learned from this campaign is not merely about strategy, or terrain, or luck. It is about preparation, foresight, and the ability of subordinates to act decisively when leadership falters. A commander's virtue, planning, and attention to detail determine not just victory, but survival itself. Even the bravest troops and most capable officers cannot compensate indefinitely for failures at the top." He paused, letting the weight of the words hang in the dim examination hall.

The air felt thick, almost tangible, as though the story itself pressed down upon him.

"Therefore," he continued, voice steadier than he felt, "the ruler, the general, the minister, all those in positions of authority, bear the ultimate responsibility for the outcomes under their charge. Yet those immediately beneath them, those entrusted with execution and counsel, must embody virtue and competence. Through their diligence, they can preserve the state, the army, and the people, even when the highest authority falls short." He finished, and now all that remained was the dreaded "… Hmm."

Sure enough, a beat of silence, and then-"Hmm." Behind his back, Mo Jian's hands spasmed. He felt the irresistible urge to throttle the examiner making that despicable sound. But no, he was calm, cool, and collected. Rational. He would not be brought low by one measly examination.

"I think we have all that we need," the rightmost examiner said, leaning forward and turning their shadowed head toward the others. The left one nodded. But the middle one-"Hmm." Mo Jian saw red for an instant. He was just about to unleash the Netherworld Scorpion, consequences be damned, when the meaning of the last sentence sank into his weary brain. It was over. This hellish interview round was finally over. He could have wept.

It took another minute for the examiners to wrap up, but when Mo Jian finally stepped out into the hall, he felt like a man on death row given back his freedom. The dull wooden walls and low ceiling suddenly seemed as welcoming as a celestial pavilion. The silence; the complete and total absence of that wretched syllable, was enough to loosen something in his chest. He didn't care how the round had gone; he was done, and that was all that mattered.

As he made his way toward the exit, he spotted Bai Ning slouched against the wall a corridor away, looking bored in the elaborate, performative way she sometimes adopted when she'd been waiting longer than she considered reasonable. She spotted him and straightened immediately. He blinked for a moment before realizing: her interview must have ended before his. Which made sense. His examiners had been demons in disguise; hers had likely been human.

"What took you so long? I thought yours would end first." Mo Jian paused. He weighed the sentence carefully. Did she know his interview had gone poorly? No, she probably meant something else and he was just misreading her words. Time to probe carefully.

"It just dragged on. They couldn't get enough." Nothing he said was technically a lie; he had just phrased it… intelligently. Bai Ning nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose that makes sense. They were probably too enamored to let you go. My examiners were weird too. They kept crying." Once again, Mo Jian was forced to wonder if he had suffered permanent brain damage from that harrowing experience. Her examiners… cried? What did that even mean? But, did he want to know? Not really. If he never had to think about this day again, that would be far too soon. So he redirected the conversation.

"Forget about that. We're done with the examinations, and it can take up to a month before the results are posted. Any plans in the meantime?" He had some ideas himself, but Bai Ning might have a more practical suggestion. She hummed, a sound that made Mo Jian twitch despite himself, though thankfully it went unnoticed.

"We can check on Xiao Hua," she said.

"There are likely sects in the capital that would be willing to take her in, with an appropriate donation. She's smart enough that she'd do well in one." That was actually a good idea. But practicality demanded a question.

"And where will we source the money for this 'appropriate donation'?" Mo Jian asked dryly.

"In case you've forgotten, we barely have enough to cover rooms for the month." Bai Ning smiled, leaning closer and lowering her voice conspiratorially. Her expression shifted into something that Mo Jian recognized as her virtuous suggestion face; composed, earnest, and entirely unconvincing.

"There are a hundred gambling parlors in this city if we look hard enough. And you could easily turn a profit at any of them, Master. It's for a good cause," she added, with the air of a woman who had never done anything remotely unscrupulous in her life. Mo Jian snorted, unmoved.

"And right after we sat an exam lauding the virtues of morality and justice. Tsk, tsk. Seems you need more time pursuing the Canonical Texts, disciple." Bai Ning shuddered theatrically.

"No, thank you. If I never have to look at those books again, it would be best. Though… with our plans and the inner examination…" She trailed off, and even Mo Jian swept his spiritual senses around to ensure no one was listening. Best not to speak of such matters openly. Still, it was not a bad suggestion. Making money would be useful down the line, and bolstering their ratty finances was never a bad idea. On the other hand, that could wait. He had another, more pressing thought.

"How would you feel about going to see Xu Chuanli again?" he asked carefully, aware of Bai Ning's poor first impression of the man. Truthfully, his own impression was equally low, but that gate supervisor was one of the few somewhat influential cultivators they "knew" in the city. A visit could help them understand their surroundings better and get a feel for the undercurrents of the city. True to form, Bai Ning's face contorted in disgust, as if she were smelling something unpleasant.

"Ugh, that guy? He'll spend the whole time trying to flirt with me and making bad jokes. Do we really have to?" Mo Jian nodded sympathetically.

"We really should. It will be instructive. And besides, if you dislike him so much, just be firm and tell him to keep his distance. We only need one visit, not a friendship." Bai Ning's expression suggested she found this framing deeply unpersuasive. But she didn't argue further, which meant she'd accepted it.

"One visit," she said.

"One visit," he agreed. The sun had begun to drop toward the capital walls, washing the wooden corridors in long, amber light. Around them, the last of the other candidates were drifting out in ones and twos, their voices low with the peculiar exhaustion that follows sustained performance. The city hummed faintly beyond the examination compound's outer gates, full of its usual noise and possibility and indifference. Mo Jian allowed himself a small, tired smile. The examination was behind them.

Whatever came next, at least no one would be going hmm.