Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 79 2rd

When the literary gathering ended, Lu Chuan became the focus of everyone's attention.

The scholars who had been surrounding Zhou Ziqian did not immediately approach him to chat, but the look they gave Lu Chuan was no longer one of disdain.

Several students who were quite famous in the academy even slowed down and nodded slightly to Lu Chuan as they passed by.

"Qingyang Luchuan..."

At the head table, several retired officials were exchanging opinions in hushed tones.

"Prefect Shen has recommended a remarkable person. Let's see if he can really decide the fate of the nation with a single stroke in next month's prefectural examination, just like he did today."

The news spread very quickly.

However, the recognition of Lu Chuan's name did not bring him only praise.

Inside a mansion on the east side of the city, Lin Zhirun, who had just lost the debate, stood with his head down in front of a dignified middle-aged man.

"You mean, Lu Chuan exposed your hidden strength with his theory of canal construction?" The middle-aged man put down his teacup.

"Father, it is your fault for being incompetent." Lin Zhirun bit his lip, his eyes filled with resentment.

The next morning, Lu Chuan, still dressed in a plain blue shirt, stepped into Shengwen Garden once again.

Compared to the hustle and bustle of the first day, Lan Yue Pavilion was much more solemn today. The seats were spaced further apart, and the tea and snacks on the tables had been removed, replaced by heavy stone inkstones and neatly arranged Xuan paper.

Lord Chen sat at the head of the table, wearing a moon-white robe today.

"Yesterday, everyone discussed profound theories and expressed their thoughts. However, it is not enough for scholars to have insights alone; they must also have the writing skills to apply their knowledge to practical matters. Today is the second day of the literary gathering. We will not debate, but only write essays on assigned topics."

With a wave of his hand, two pageboys slowly unfurled a scroll bearing only two powerful characters:

"Relief"

As soon as the question was posed, a collective gasp filled the room.

This question is too difficult.

Compared to romantic notions, the topic of relief involves agriculture, finances, transportation, and official coordination, testing the candidate's understanding of practical matters.

For those spoiled rich kids who only know how to study by rote, this was undoubtedly a bucket of cold water poured over their heads.

"Using this as the topic, with a two-hour time limit, compose a poem and a memorial." Lord Chen struck the bell. "Let's begin."

Lu Chuan sat down, placed his right hand naturally on the ink stick, and began grinding.

During the gathering, some people had already begun to write.

Although those scholars from the prefectural city were unfamiliar with practical matters, they had been guided by famous teachers since childhood and were very familiar with the patterns of such questions.

For a time, the pavilion was filled with words praising the benevolence of the Holy Dynasty and the boundless grace of the Emperor, piling up ornate language to vividly depict a famine.

Lu Chuan also began to write.

"Relief is about saving lives and helping hearts."

His "fu" is titled "Fu on the Refugees".

He doesn't begin by discussing benevolence and morality, but by addressing the starving dead. With words, he tears away the veil of shame. He writes about the dryness of eating withered grass, the horrific scene of exchanging children for food, and the absurdity of magnificent carriages brushing past withered corpses on the official road.

The elders who had been talking quietly behind the screen suddenly fell silent.

Lord Chen, who was in charge of patrolling the area, walked slowly behind Lu Chuan. After just one glance, his hand, which was holding his long beard, suddenly trembled, and his fingertips subconsciously broke off a few strands of his beard.

Lu Chuan wrote extremely quickly.

When he wrote about "shortcuts," that is, specific disaster relief strategies, his writing style suddenly changed, becoming extremely pragmatic and incisive.

Instead of quoting vague and ethereal sayings of sages, he directly listed the losses along the grain routes from the prefectural city to the various counties.

He wrote: "The relief provided by prefectures and counties is ostensibly to help the people, but in reality it enriches the officials."

He proposed three countermeasures:

Firstly, it is called "work relief instead of relief." Disaster victims should not sit idly by and wait for handouts, but should have canals and roads built so that people can make a living and the town can have a foundation.

Secondly, there is the "joint liability for price gouging." Any grain merchant who hoards grain will not only have their property confiscated, but the local officials in charge will also be held jointly liable.

Thirdly, it was said to "go directly to the villages." This bypassed the corrupt clerks in the county government and instead had the grain supervised by respected elders from each village.

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye.

When the chime sounded again, many scholars had cold sweat beading on their foreheads.

The page collected the scrolls one by one and finally presented them to Lord Chen and the several elderly men who were giving their comments.

On the second floor of Lanyue Pavilion, the prefect, who had been hiding in the shadows, could no longer contain himself and slowly strolled downstairs.

Lord Chen looked at Lin Zhirun's first.

The old man shook his head slightly: "He has abundant spiritual energy, but he is unaware of human famine. This is the 'words of a noble person,' which cannot avert disaster."

Let's look at Zhou Ziqian's next.

Lord Chen nodded: "It's up to standard. If he were the head of a county, he would be good at maintaining the status quo but not good at expanding the territory."

Finally, he placed his hand on the very bottom of the stack of papers.

That was Lu Chuan's exam paper.

Lord Chen only read half a page before slamming the scroll shut. He turned to look at the prefect, his eyes revealing a complex mix of emotions—shock, relief, and even a hint of worry.

"My lord, please take a look."

The prefect took the examination paper and, upon reading it, his originally composed expression gradually turned solemn.

"Is this Lu Chuan really from a peasant family?" The prefect's voice was very low.

"This young man is someone who has truly walked that arduous path," Lord Chen sighed.

"‘The relief provided by the prefectures and counties is ostensibly to help the people, but in reality it enriches the officials…’" the prefect repeated this sentence in a low voice. "He really dared to write that. This not only stripped the skin off those clerks, but also completely exposed the true face of the local officials."

Lord Chen gave a bitter smile and stood with his hands behind his back: "But sir, every single thing he said, every single one of them, is true. When I was in office, I also saw those so-called disaster relief grains, which were laundered and embezzled at every level. By the time they reached the disaster victims, they were lucky to get even a handful of old grains. This child's proposal, which went directly to the villages, may be somewhat idealistic, but it is a powerful remedy to break the deadlock."

At this moment, the scholars inside the pavilion did not disperse; they were exchanging glances in small groups.

Lin Zhirun was pale. He stood not far away, watching the prefect and Lord Chen looking at the exam paper with grim expressions, and knew in his heart that he had lost again.

His policy essays spoke of divine mercy and the unity of officials and the people; the words were beautiful, and the intentions were good, but they did not reflect the reality.

The prefect slowly put away the scroll, not returning it to the page, but instead slipping it into his sleeve.

"Old Chen, this young man's talent far surpasses what is merely 'top scholar'," the prefect said in a low voice. "But if this essay gets out, I'm afraid he'll be devoured alive by those with vested interests before he even enters the examination hall."

Lord Chen's eyes sharpened: "Your Excellency means..."

"I'm taking this exam paper with me." The prefect glanced back at Lu Chuan. "Let's see how it goes in next month's prefectural exam."

When the literary gathering ended and Lu Chuan stepped out of the gate of Shengwen Garden, he found that the steward at the gate was looking at him in a completely different way.

Lu Shouye was still under that big locust tree, but today he was accompanied by several curious peddlers.