APSIL -Chapter 106 Recruiting Students—Special Admission or Entrance Exam?

There were very few people in the Directorate of Ceremonial (Silijian). Its buildings were few, its establishment modest, and there were no obsequious young eunuchs standing beneath the eaves, waiting for some senior attendant to bark an order so they could rush to perform every imaginable errand.

From the entrance to the eastern side room at the very back, Zhang Shou encountered exactly three living things besides Lü Chan: a groundskeeper sweeping the courtyard, a gardener tending flowers… and a dog.

Not a fluffy white lapdog dozing at someone’s feet, but a massive hound with sleek, glossy fur, jet-black eyes, and sharp fangs visible whenever it parted its jaws. Though not a mastiff, it stood nearly as tall as half of Zhang Shou himself. He had absolutely no doubt about its fighting ability, so he wisely refrained from trying to pet it.

The dog followed behind him with remarkable intelligence all the way until Lü Chan led him to the eastern room. Only then did it lazily wag its tail, abandon both men, and stroll back toward the outer courtyard.

Seeing Zhang Shou glance after it with interest, Lü Chan lowered his voice.

“That’s Black Moon, the Old Ancestor’s favorite. It never leaves the grounds of the Directorate. It’s a good thing you didn’t walk inside on your own earlier, Doctor Zhang. Otherwise, it would’ve pounced on you immediately. Only the Old Ancestor can command it.”

At those words, Qiao Hu and Yang Hao instantly broke into cold sweats.

They had raised dogs back in the countryside, but never one so enormous and ferocious—more terrifying than a wolf. Just imagining themselves barging in and being chased by that beast left their legs trembling.

Fortunately, I knew better than to trespass, Zhang Shou thought with relief. Breaking into someone’s property is illegal, after all.

He silently congratulated himself before remarking that, as expected, a remarkable master kept a remarkable dog.

At that moment, Chu Kuan’s familiar voice drifted out from inside.

“Lü, who have you brought?”

“It’s Doctor Zhang, Old Ancestor.”

Moments later, footsteps approached, and the door swung open.

Chu Kuan himself stood there, smiling warmly.

Zhang Shou returned the greeting with a respectful salute, then got straight to the point.

“I won’t beat around the bush. Yesterday, with His Majesty present at the Imperial Academy, it wasn’t convenient to ask. Today I’ve come personally to collect the students you promised me.”

Lü Chan was stunned.

The young scholar who had spoken to him so politely moments earlier was addressing Chu Kuan—the powerful Senior Brush Holder of the Directorate—as casually as though speaking to an acquaintance.

What surprised him even more was Chu Kuan’s reaction.

He merely paused before laughing and ushering Zhang Shou inside.

“Easy enough! Come in, Doctor Zhang… Lü, bring out the good tea!”

Although the Directorate looked sparsely staffed, there was certainly no shortage of attendants to serve tea.

Lü Chan instantly understood.

The Old Ancestor clearly had something important to discuss in private.

After preparing one of the tribute teas and personally overseeing its brewing, he carried the tray into the study.

Just as he entered, he heard Chu Kuan speaking.

“Doctor Zhang, tell me honestly—isn’t this infuriating?”

By the time Chu Kuan finished explaining, Zhang Shou had already grasped the entire situation.

“So the people you found…”

“…that accountant Yan Fang, who was dismissed from several employers because he kept exposing falsified ledgers and embezzlement…”

“…a few impoverished scholars making a living writing letters for others…”

“…and everyone else turned out to be household servants belonging to noble families or government officials?”

Lü Chan’s hands shook so badly that the teacups rattled against the tray.

He hurriedly set everything down and quietly poured tea.

Chu Kuan sighed.

“These days every student at the Imperial Academy wants only to study the Confucian classics. Hardly anyone studies mathematics anymore.”

“But wealthy officials all maintain household servants who’ve studied the Ten Mathematical Classics since childhood to manage accounts.”

“That alone wouldn’t matter.”

“But if you hadn’t handled things perfectly outside Master Ge’s residence, by now the entire capital would be saying that Ge Yong’s disciple was competing with poor scholars and servants over students!”

He sighed again.

“You know perfectly well how difficult the Ten Mathematical Classics are. No one masters them through reading alone.”

“They require talented teachers.”

“Back when the Imperial Academy still had a mathematics department, what happened to those graduates?”

“None of them had successful official careers.”

“Every last one was hired away at generous salaries to become private tutors.”

Zhang Shou accepted the tea from Lü Chan with thanks before smiling.

“So the ministers have their servants study mathematics to keep accounts, manage businesses, and oversee estates?”

“Exactly!”

Chu Kuan nodded vigorously.

“In their eyes, a refined institution like the Imperial Academy has no need whatsoever for mathematics.”

Zhang Shou wasn’t surprised.

Even in Europe, the earliest mathematicians employed by nobles were little more than accountants managing private wealth.

Only after finance and commerce exploded did mathematical talent become highly prized.

Pure mathematics attracted only enthusiasts.

It became valuable when connected to money.

Under Chu Kuan’s hopeful gaze, Zhang Shou calmly set down his teacup.

“So…”

“…you’re telling me the students I wanted are unavailable?”

Chu Kuan couldn’t tell whether the young man genuinely didn’t understand—or was pretending not to.

He stressed each word.

“Doctor Zhang, do you expect Academy students—whether tribute students, hereditary admissions, or fee-paying scholars—to willingly study alongside household servants?”

“I can tell you every one of their names.”

“I might even force their masters to hand them over.”

“But I cannot put them into the Imperial Academy!”

“Then don’t.”

Zhang Shou answered as though Chu Kuan had merely stated an obvious fact.

“Bring me Yan Fang first.”

“And those few scholars without degrees.”

“As for recruiting students…”

“…I’ll prepare three examination questions.”

“Please ask my teacher, Master Qi, and Master Chu to post them throughout the city.”

“Anyone who solves them may come to the Imperial Academy for an interview.”

Chu Kuan blinked.

“…Interview?”

“Exactly.”

“To prevent people from submitting answers someone else solved for them.”

He smiled.

“Isn’t openly recruiting from the whole capital far easier than stealing servants from influential households?”

“And if those servants truly wish to study…”

“…I already told them when I delivered the books.”

“They’re welcome to visit my teacher’s residence.”

“My teacher and I are both happy to answer questions.”

“They don’t necessarily need to enroll at the Imperial Academy.”

After thanking Chu Kuan once again for helping locate people, Zhang Shou rose to leave.

He even politely declined Lü Chan’s offer to escort him.

Instead, he followed Black Moon out of the compound as though the enormous dog were serving as his guide.

Watching the departing figure, Chu Kuan narrowed his eyes.

“What do you think of Doctor Zhang?”

Lü Chan hesitated.

“His temperament…”

“…seems easygoing.”

“Gentle.”

“Kind.”

“He doesn’t appear to have much of a temper.”

“No temper?”

Chu Kuan chuckled.

“That’s because you didn’t see him at Moonlight Tower, when he argued Xu Fengyang—the self-proclaimed greatest essay critic in the capital—into complete humiliation.”

His smile quickly faded.

“You probably don’t know.”

“This morning he sat together with Qi Jingshan and Chu Ying at Zhigong Tower.”

“Minister of War Lu Wan personally went there to seek advice.”

“I suspect…”

“…the secret correspondence between the traitor inside the Ministry of War and the conspirators in Linhai Camp has already been deciphered.”

Lü Chan’s eyes widened.

“But…”

“…didn’t Grand Tutor Ge and Masters Qi and Chu fail yesterday?”

“Which proves that mastery has nothing to do with age.”

Chu Kuan let out an irritated breath.

Originally, he had planned everything carefully.

He would first complain about how difficult it had been to locate suitable students.

Then he would use his influence to force those noble households to surrender their mathematically trained servants.

In doing so, Zhang Shou would owe him a considerable favor.

After all, these servants genuinely possessed years of mathematical education.

How could a teacher teach without students?

And why did Chu Kuan want that favor?

Because inside the Imperial Library lay countless writings left by the Founding Emperor.

Some they could understand.

Others were utterly incomprehensible.

Even Western scholars could decipher only fragments.

Generation after generation, the eunuchs who considered themselves heirs to the Founding Emperor’s legacy had died full of regret.

Perhaps Zhang Shou could succeed where everyone else had failed.

Even if the Emperor forbade it, Chu Kuan could secretly make copies for him.

But now…

His carefully prepared favor had gone entirely to waste.

How was he supposed to ask for help later?

Meanwhile, Zhang Shou walked leisurely toward the exit.

Looking at Black Moon happily wagging its tail…

Then at the two boys, now considerably more cautious than before…

His mood remained excellent.

Why would he antagonize the entire class of powerful officials for the sake of a group of people whose abilities were uncertain and whose characters were questionable?

Had he gone mad?

Why use backdoor admissions when he possessed the far superior weapon of open examinations and interviews?

If those servants truly appreciated the books he’d delivered and genuinely wished to study, they could come later.

Only then would he gradually judge both their ability and their character.

That was far wiser than having Chu Kuan dump them all into his care immediately.

Even if the recruitment failed…then Lu Sanlang could simply become the sole Prefect of Jiuzhang Hall.

As long as that little chubby genius shone brightly enough…

Wouldn’t talented students naturally appear in the future?

There was plenty of time.

He wasn’t in a hurry.

Ever since suffering a painful setback years ago…he had learned one lesson well.

Never rush.

Just as Zhang Shou stepped through the gate, someone shouted loudly from outside.

“A-Shou!”

He looked up.

Riding a fiery red horse and dressed in brilliant crimson, Zhu Ying galloped toward him like a streak of flame.

Zhang Shou blinked in surprise.

Then he heard the next sentence—one that left him completely dumbfounded.

“Hurry! Come with me to see my mother!”