IDWBE -Chapter 366 Looking Ahead

Everyone knew that under Prince He’s rule, titles like juren and xiucai meant nothing. No matter how vast your learning, it could not compare to a primary school graduation certificate stamped with a bright red seal.

As long as you could skillfully use the four basic arithmetic operations and understood a bit of elementary accounting, you could sit for the civil service examination—and successfully become an official.

In Baiyun City, the youngest town magistrate was only thirteen years old. Every day he scolded a group of gray-haired local elders in their seventies and eighties as if they were grandchildren. For a time, this became a spectacle in the city.

Senior officials like Shan Qi had not failed to object, but Prince He simply said, “This is called spending a thousand taels to buy a horse’s bones.”

After that, no one dared to remonstrate further.

Later, when the Sanhe forces took control of Nanzhou, Yuezhou, Yong’an, Wuzhou, and other regions, the local government offices were staffed either by primary school graduates or by capable clerks who could actually get things done.

As for the classically educated scholars brimming with literary talent—they were ignored.

The juren gentlemen were proud by nature. Official vacancies were rare and difficult to obtain, and with little hope of appointment, they passed their days fraternizing with local magistrates, composing poetry, frequenting brothels, and living leisurely, comfortable lives.

But the arrival of the Sanhe people shattered their stable prosperity.

Not only did the new administration establish town chiefs and village heads in rural areas, they even dared to grant three years of tax exemption in certain regions!

Outrageous!

Was Prince He out of his mind?

Did he not know that the court’s primary source of revenue was taxes?

Exempting taxes in one township or one prefecture was understandable. But exempting three entire provinces for three years—no one in history had ever done such a thing!

A muddle-headed prince like this, even if he ascended the throne, could never secure his foundations.

From then on, the good days of the xiucai and juren came to an end. Those mud-legged peasants not only stopped gifting them land—they even dared to demand the return of land previously given!

It was rebellion against heaven!

Whether in Yuezhou, Hongzhou, or Jingzhou, scholars had a hard time of it. The earlier rebellions had already caused heavy losses. And with numerous maids and servants to support, expenses continued while income vanished. Before long, many could no longer sustain themselves—especially those unskilled in managing property. Even their grand mansions had to be sold.

Prince He was even harsher than the rebel bandits!

They had thought to go weep and protest at the Provincial Administration Office—but what grounds could they cite?

That exempting peasants from taxes was wrong?

They genuinely feared those peasants might tear them apart.

In desperation, some had a sudden inspiration: if graduating from primary school was enough to become an official—and even easier than passing the imperial examinations and waiting for a vacancy—why not simply obtain a primary school certificate?

Where one led, others followed. Before long, it became a widespread phenomenon.

By now, in Yuezhou and Hongzhou, many schools were filled with bearded old men studying arithmetic and natural science alongside seven- and eight-year-old children—subjects they once scorned.

Though reluctant at heart, for the sake of livelihood and prospects they studied earnestly. After all, grade-skipping was allowed. As long as they obtained the primary school certificate, they could take the civil service exam!

They dreamed of starting as lowly clerks and rising step by step to the pinnacle of success.

There was precedent.

In Rao City, Prefect Gong Xinyi had once been a poor student who repeatedly failed the imperial exams. After enrolling in a modern school, he studied tirelessly—binding his books until the straps broke, hanging himself from a beam to stay awake, stabbing his thigh to keep alert. In just half a year, he obtained his primary school certificate.

He then sat for the civil service exam and ranked first in mathematics, earning the post of Prefectural Recorder.

Astonishingly, in only a year and a half he was promoted to Prefect of Rao City!

Many saw hope in his story.

If a man past fifty, with little scholarly brilliance, could become a prefect—why couldn’t they?

Since Yong’an and Wuzhou had not yet established modern schools, scholars from there traveled long distances to study in Nanzhou.

But Nanzhou had only a few schools—far from sufficient. Wealthier scholars therefore hired teachers from Sanhe to open schools in Wuzhou and Yong’an.

Thus, modern schools spread like wildflowers throughout Prince He’s domain—an outcome no one had foreseen.

“You really do have lofty ambitions,” Butcher Jiang said, unsure whether to mock or envy Wang Xiaoshuan. “Fine then, work hard. If you strike it rich, maybe I’ll benefit too.”

“Just you wait,” Wang Xiaoshuan laughed. “South of the West River, I’ll be the one whose word carries the most weight.”

“Hmph. In that barren place south of the West River where neither chickens lay eggs nor birds crap, anyone’s word carries weight,” Jiang retorted. “If you really plan to join the Military Command, transfer your business to me. Name a price—I’ll handle the rest.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Wang Xiaoshuan smiled.

He had his own calculations. He couldn’t abandon his business entirely. If things went badly in officialdom, he would still need a fallback.

“There’s an old saying: better to sleep beside a lonely grave than live in a wild temple,” Han Dongsheng, who had been silent, said with a chuckle. “With your temperament, you’re not suited for officialdom. You won’t even know when you’ve offended someone—and won’t know how you died. Better to stick to business. We may quarrel among ourselves, but no one’s going to take your life.”

“Another saying goes: thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—the wheel of fortune turns,” Wang Xiaoshuan shot back. “How can you be so sure I’ll fail?”

“First of all, your name won’t do,” Li Sanniang teased. “‘Wang Xiaoshuan’? No different from ‘Wang Er-Gouzi.’ What official ever had a name like yours?”

“That’s true…” Wang Xiaoshuan scratched his head. “Maybe I should change it like that bastard Sun Yi did. Wang… what should it be?”

He looked toward Liang Qingshu, the most learned among them.

Liang Qingshu smiled. “Just call yourself Wang Shuan. Adding that ‘Xiao’ makes it sound petty.”

“Wang Shuan… Wang Shuan…” He murmured it twice, finding it increasingly pleasing. “Not bad. From now on, call me Wang Shuan. If you call me Wang Xiaoshuan, I won’t answer.”

“Fine.”

It was no great matter; everyone agreed readily.

Zhu Ruorong added, “But changing your name’s troublesome. You’ll have to go back to Sanhe to amend your household registration and your graduation certificate. A lot of hassle.”

“That’s no problem,” Wang Shuan said cheerfully. “I’ll change everything when I go home for the New Year.”

As they chatted and laughed, they suddenly noticed a familiar group passing along the street.

“Wei—” Wang Shuan began, only for Li Sanniang to clap a hand over his mouth.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

He pushed her hand away, watching helplessly as Wei Yishan’s figure receded into the distance.

“Hmph. And you want to be an official?” Liang Qingshu laughed. “Shouting on the main street like that—should he acknowledge you or not? If he responds, it violates military discipline in front of his subordinates. If he ignores you, you’re embarrassed and your friendship suffers.”