Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 212 Ten Chapters on Protecting the Nation, Jiang Zhenguo!

"This is... the seventy-seventh chapter of the National Protection Manual?!"

The chief examiner, Tang Xiujin, Minister of War, suddenly narrowed his eyes, and his vermilion pen fell onto the desk with a "thud".

He suddenly stood up, his expression deeply moved.

"This"

Tang Xiujin's Adam's apple bobbed, and her voice trembled slightly.

He had also wondered, where exactly was the limit of Jiang Xingzhou's strength?
The purpose of writing down this "Ten Questions of the Great Zhou" was to allow Jiang Xingzhou to perform to the fullest extent, and also to see how far Jiang Xingzhou could go.

Unexpectedly, Jiang Xingzhou wrote seven more articles on protecting the country, and still did not stop writing.

"Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!"

Chief examiner Zhao Mingcheng's face flushed red, his hair and beard bristled, and he practically choked out the words through clenched teeth.

His voice was hoarse and shrill, as if someone had grabbed his throat but he was forced to shout.

"Writing ten articles to pacify the nation? A pipe dream! In this world, from ancient times to the present, has anyone ever accomplished such a feat?!"

He was furious at the sight of the strange phenomena in the sky.

I don't know what to do.
He paced back and forth between the examination rooms, his feet barely touching the ground, as if he wanted to rush into the examination room and snatch Jiang Xingzhou's pen.

But what can he do?
He had no right to interfere with the candidates taking the exams inside the examination room.

An article of national significance, once written, will transform into a dazzling brilliance, rising above the examination hall and proclaiming it to the world!

Slandering plagiarism?

joke!

Who in this world can copy a work that can "protect the nation"?

As for splashing ink, soiling the scroll, or destroying the scroll?
Delusion!

Each poem in the "Protecting the Nation" series is a masterpiece of literature, condensed from the essence of heaven, earth, and the Way.

Let alone splashing ink to stain it, even if you were to slash it with a scholar's sword, you wouldn't be able to leave a single mark!
"It's over... it's over!
If he were to actually write ten chapters, wouldn't he turn the Great Zhou Dynasty upside down?!

The chief examiner, Hanlin Academician Zhao Mingcheng, looked utterly desperate.

In the Great Zhou Dynasty, a land where the imperial examination system reigns supreme, Jiang Xingzhou's achievements in the examinations will surpass those of his elder brother, Chen Shaoqing, the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion and the Chancellor.

This will undoubtedly greatly shake the prestige and status of the Grand Secretary!

Imperial Examination Hall.

"I'm so sorry, Brother Zhang Heng!"

Jiang Xingzhou picked up his pen, sighed softly, and wrote Chen Zi'ang's most famous poem, "Jibei Chapter."

"Ascending the Youzhou Terrace"

[I see no predecessors, nor successors.]

Contemplating the vastness of heaven and earth, I am overwhelmed with sorrow and tears stream down my face.

Suddenly, a bluish-white aura rose from the examination hall in Jiangnan, soaring into the sky like a dragon breaking through the clouds, reaching straight to the heavens.

That boundless talent condensed into the phantom image of Jibei Tower, and the wind chimes on the eaves seemed to ring out with a clear, melodious sound.

In the phantom,

On the Youzhou Terrace, one can see King Zhao of Yan once building the Golden Terrace to recruit scholars; now, in the setting sun, only broken steles and overgrown weeds remain. A thousand years of rise and fall are contained in these twenty-two characters.

Now, everything has changed, and the world has transformed.

Jibei Dao Jieyuanzhang snapped his wolf-hair brush in his hand with a "snap," splattering ink all over his blue robe.

He stared blankly in the direction of the Jiangnan Examination Hall, “I climb Jibei Tower every day, and this poem feels so familiar to me.”

Why couldn't I have imagined such a masterpiece?!

A white-haired scholar, trembling, copied down the poem and picked up the scroll: "The whole poem does not mention the scenery, yet all things are present; it does not express feelings, yet sorrow is revealed."

"This is the highest realm of literature and the Way." Suddenly, he choked up and could not speak.

"I see no predecessors before me, nor successors after me—this is Jiang Xingzhou's eighth piece!"
Another heart-wrenching poem that speaks volumes about the nation's enduring legacy!

I saw an old official leaning against a pillar under the eaves, gazing at the sky, his frosty temples glistening with tears.

"Eight pieces! My writing spirit has collapsed!"

A young scholar was bent over his desk, wailing and weeping, his tears staining the Xuan paper.
The four characters “天地悠悠” (the vastness of heaven and earth) resonated like a great bell, stirring the hearts of all the scholars present.

In an instant, the imperial examination hall became a place of enlightenment.

Thousands of candidates saw their own lives reflected in this vast and poetic landscape.

"The Ninth Chapter!"

Jiang Xingzhou changed his brushstrokes, and with ink on the Xuan paper, wrote the Lingnan chapter—"A Gift to Zhang Ji When He Was Exiled to Lingnan."

This poem was originally a [Mingzhou] piece he gave to Zhang Ji. Now, rewriting it, he naturally picked it up effortlessly.

Moreover, after the Imperial Censor Zhang Ji, who had been demoted to Lingnan, was ordered to return to Luoyang to thoroughly investigate the Lantern Festival demonic incident, this poem became famous throughout the Great Zhou Dynasty, his talent soared, and he was even promoted to the ranks of [National Protector]!

Wherever the brushstrokes land, the ink shimmers on the paper, as if the miasma of Lingnan is surging, or a lone boat is sailing far away on a cold river.

The moment the poem was completed, the literary atmosphere in the examination hall surged like a tide, and a soft chant could be faintly heard – that was the unique resonance between heaven and earth of the [Zhenguo] poem!
"Unfortunately, it's no longer the first of its kind!"

Jiang Xingzhou shook his head, a hint of the past in his eyes.

All the candidates held their breath and focused intently. Some murmured the poem, some closed their eyes in deep thought, and some even trembled slightly with their fingertips, as if they could feel the desolate and lonely feeling in the poem.

"This poem... has unknowingly risen to the rank of [National Defense]?"

Someone gasped in surprise.

"When Zhang Ji went south, this poem was elevated in its own right..."

The examiner, Zhao Wen, the Vice Minister of Rites, couldn't help but sigh, "Poetry is used to name people, and people are remembered through poetry; it is truly mysterious."

This poem is more than just a test-taking piece—it carries the tumultuous life of Imperial Censor Zhang Ji and reflects the grand trends of the Zhou Dynasty.

"The tenth chapter—the last one!"

Jiang Xingzhou held his pen with his wrist suspended, his heart churning.

Countless timeless masterpieces, like a galaxy of stars, flicker and shine in his mind.

Li Bai's "The Road to Shu is Hard"? — No, this poem is too grand in scale and should be saved for a more important moment.

After a moment of contemplation, he suddenly smiled, and with a stroke of his pen like a dragon, he wrote Yuan Zhen's "Thoughts of Separation" on the plain paper.

"Thoughts of Separation"

Once you've seen the ocean, other waters seem insignificant; once you've beheld the clouds of Wushan, other clouds seem pale in comparison.

I'm too lazy to look back at the flowers, half for cultivating the Tao, half for you!

The final stroke, the instant of finishing—

"boom!"

The dome of the Imperial Examination Hall exudes a scholarly aura that surges like a raging sea!

In the direction of Sichuan and Chongqing, a vast ocean suddenly appeared, with waves surging and rising, and the majestic Wushan Mountains broke through the clouds, their peaks soaring into the sky.

Amidst the swirling clouds and mist atop the mountain, a faint, ethereal figure could be vaguely discerned, as if gazing back at the mortal realm.

"This, this is."

The jade ruler in the hand of Wei Shili, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, fell to the ground with a clang.

In the examination hall, all the candidates stood there, heads tilted back in disbelief.

Some people unconsciously reached out, wanting to touch the illusion in the air;
Some even covered their faces with their sleeves, which were already soaked with tears.

"Twenty-eight characters encapsulate the deepest emotions in the world."

The white-haired man's voice trembled, "Look at the clouds and rain over Wushan, it is clearly a realm where the soul of poetry is transformed!"

He gently set down his wolf-hair brush, and a ripple spread across the inkwell. Suddenly, he felt a sense of clarity in his heart. Outside the examination hall, a crowd of people who had come after hearing the news had gathered.

In complete silence, only the sky was filled with rosy clouds that dyed the entire imperial city crimson, as if the heavens themselves had draped this final masterpiece in a red glow.

"Ten chapters to protect the nation!"

Bashu Liu Chun's pen tip hovered over the paper, ink dripping down and spreading a dark gray stain on the exam paper.

He stared at the straight back of the man in the opposite examination room, feeling as if a wad of cotton soaked in bitter wine was stuck in his throat.

"The Bashu Chapter."

He murmured those three words, each syllable seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth, "Ten chapters to protect the nation. As expected of Jiang Zhenguo!"

The air inside the examination hall seemed to freeze.

A dead silence!
The Great Zhou Dynasty has ten circuits, and ten chapters to protect the nation!
The other candidates had already stopped writing; some were stunned, while others looked ashen-faced.

Those scholars who usually boasted of their exceptional talent were now reduced to clay and wooden sculptures.

Liu Chun suddenly remembered his first meeting with Jiang Xingzhou at the Confucian Temple in Luoyang.

At that time, he was still thinking that it was just a difference between the top scholars in Jiangnan and Bashu, just like the confrontation between Jiange and Huangshan—although they were of different levels, they were both the pinnacles of humankind.

But now.
He looked down at his own manuscript of the poem "[Mingzhou]", and the words he was so proud of now seemed so pale and laughable.

"turn out to be."

Liu Chun shook his head with a wry smile and gently placed the brush on the inkstone. "Even if all nine of us in the Great Zhou Dynasty were to combine our resources, we couldn't even catch up to his shadow."

Outside the examination room window, the last wisp of talent, transformed into the clouds and rain of Wushan, was gradually dissipating.

Liu Chun suddenly felt like a speck of dust in the clouds, thinking he was standing on high ground, but unaware that true magnificence lay far above the heavens.

"From this day forward, as long as Jiang Zhenguo lives, I will never again pick up a pen to write poetry!"

In a corner of the examination hall, someone burst into tears.

The crying seemed contagious, and it quickly spread throughout the examination hall.

These usually proud and arrogant talented men were now like pear blossoms battered by the rainstorm.

Brother Jiang!
To have met Jiang Zhenguo in this life is the greatest fortune of my life!

Liu Chun did not cry.

He simply sat quietly, gazing in the direction of the Jiangnan Examination Hall across the street, and suddenly bowed deeply.

This bow was a tribute to a true scholar who had excelled in the imperial examinations.

All ten candidates from the Great Zhou Dynasty failed the imperial examinations without exception when faced with the questions set by their hometowns: "Northern Frontier, Southern Desert, Guanzhong, Longyou, Central Plains, Jingchu, Lingnan, and Bashu".

This was an incredibly heavy blow to their mental state.

They were incredibly proud and arrogant to become successful candidates in the imperial examinations in their hometown, county, prefecture, or circuit!
Now, as they arrive at the examination hall, they can only gaze up at Jiang Xingzhou's retreating figure from afar.

At this moment, Jiang Xingzhou was like a saint in the eyes of the ten thousand candidates in this year's spring imperial examination!
In fact, the name "Jiang Zhenguo" had already been quietly circulating among many candidates.

However, the ten talented scholars of the Great Zhou Dynasty were always proud and arrogant. In private, who wouldn't sneer, "He's just the top scholar of Jiangnan Province. What makes him qualified to govern the country?"

now,

The other nine candidates had already been defeated.

The candidates from the Sichuan-Chongqing region became the last remaining force of resistance in the examination hall.

But before the ink on Jiang Xingzhou's Bashu chapter was even dry, they finally put down their pens in dejection.

The Ten Routes of the Great Zhou Dynasty: the vastness of the northern frontier, the grandeur of the southern desert, the profoundness of Guanzhong, the magnificence of Longyou, the magnificence of the Central Plains, the elegance of Jingchu, the wonder of Lingnan, and the ruggedness of Bashu.

Each path represents their proud homeland, and each piece represents the dignity of literature that they are determined to defend to the death.

Today, not a single person can safeguard the glory of their hometown.

Jiang Xingzhou, the top scholar of Jiangnan Province, wrote about it all in one stroke!

These proud sons of heaven, who were the pride of their respective counties and prefectures, were now in the examination hall, gazing up at that invisible figure as if looking up at a literary sage.

A scholar from Longyou suddenly burst into laughter, his laughter tinged with madness, "We scholars from the nine provinces of the Great Zhou have studied diligently for twenty years, and no one can match him even slightly in writing about their hometown!"

Above the examination hall, ten streams of literary energy intertwined to form a rainbow. The light shone on the faces of thousands, reflecting nothing but awe and submission.

At this moment, in the eyes of these once arrogant scholars, Jiang Xingzhou was no longer an ordinary person—

He is a poetic immortal walking among mortals, a literary saint whose pen has become a living embodiment of poetry, and the only person in all the ages in this examination hall, this spring examination, and the Great Zhou Dynasty to have "ten poems that protect the nation"!
It wasn't just the candidates in the examination hall who were stunned into silence.

Inside and outside the examination hall, the purple-robed officials of the three provinces and six ministries also underwent a dramatic change in expression.

These high-ranking officials, who had experienced the ups and downs of officialdom, were now losing their composure—some gripped their court beads tightly, their knuckles turning white; some trembled slightly, their foreheads beaded with sweat; and some unconsciously straightened their clothes, as if they were about to meet a great Confucian scholar.

They knew better than anyone what ten articles emphasizing national stability meant.

These veteran officials, who had fought their way up through the bloody path of the imperial examinations, knew all too well that "achieving the top honors in all three levels of the imperial examinations" was nothing more than a title and empty name, which sounded good in name only.

These ten national treasure poems and essays are worthy of being recorded in the Confucian Temple and passed down through the ages; each one is a true literary treasure!
Each piece is enough to establish a new school of thought, and each poem can serve as a model for future generations.

"This child."

Minister Wei Min's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse, "It seems a mere Vice Minister is not up to the task!"

Minister of Personnel Li Qiao stared intently in the direction of the examination hall, suddenly recalling the triumphant feeling he had when he passed the imperial examination decades ago and became the top scholar.

But at this moment, he felt a sense of unease—this young man's talent made even him, the Minister of Personnel, a high-ranking official of the second rank, feel suffocated.

The teacup in the scholar's hand had long since gone cold.

He gazed at the lingering aura of literature and light in the sky and murmured, "Since the founding of the Great Zhou Dynasty, throughout the ages, has such a figure ever appeared?"

Everyone knew perfectly well that Jiang Xingzhou's rise to power was unstoppable.

This is not simply passing the imperial examination; it is a new sun rising from the sea of ​​clouds, destined to illuminate this era.

Tomorrow at the morning court session, that figure in the green robe will surely stand at the pinnacle of the jade steps—and will certainly not stop at the bottom of the list of high-ranking officials.

Outside the red walls of the examination hall, a large crowd of people had gathered, drawn by the news.

"Ten articles to protect the nation!"

"That's terrifying! It's like the God of Literature descending to earth!"

"Isn't that right?"

"In the past, when the Grand Secretary achieved the highest rank in all three imperial examinations, everyone said it was because the God of Literature had descended to earth. Now, are there ten Gods of Literature here?"

The dense crowd was completely silent, all looking up at the pillar of literary energy that stretched from heaven to earth.

In this silence, a new miracle of "Ten Chapters to Protect the Nation" is being born in the Imperial Examination Hall of Luoyang.

The imperial examination will be over in a long time.

Grand Secretary Chen Shaoqing returned to his carriage, closed his eyes and concentrated, but the discussions outside the curtain pierced through like sharp needles.

"Jiang Zhenguo's poem is even more stunning than Lord Chen's 'Ode to Yumen' back then."

"That's not all! When Lord Chen took the imperial examination, his essay 'Zhen Guo' made him famous throughout the land. This guy wrote ten 'Zhen Guo' essays in a row!"

Chen Shaoqing clenched his fists tightly on his knees, his knuckles making a soft "click" sound.

His back was taut beneath the purple robe, and even his neatly trimmed beard trembled slightly.

"My lord, shall we return to the manor?"

The chief steward had barely opened his mouth when he was met with two sharp, piercing gazes fixed on the carriage wall.

Looking at the cloud pattern embroidered in gold thread on his cuffs, Chen Shaoqing suddenly found this design, a symbol of a prime minister's status, utterly ridiculous—

Twenty years ago, when he composed a poem in the Golden Hall, the "Wen Kui" plaque bestowed by the late emperor was still hanging in the Chen Clan Ancestral Hall. Now, it has become a measuring tool in the mouths of ordinary people!

"Wait here!"

When the word "wait" was forced out from between his teeth, the driver was so startled that he almost dropped his whip.

Outside the carriage curtain, Chen Shaoqing caught a glimpse of a scholar in the teahouse, bowing and worshipping in front of the examination hall. His devout appearance was just like that of a god of literature.

(End of this chapter)