Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

"Collect—the scrolls!"

As the evening drum fell silent, a shout from the official in scarlet robes sent a flurry of activity through the examination hall. One by one, the examination papers were closed, the seals were pressed firmly, and the adhesive paper was pressed tightly together, as if sealing the fates of a group of people into the paper as well.

Some people looked up at the sky, as if they had crawled out of the water; others still held onto their pens, their knuckles white, as if letting go would mean letting the road slip away.

Liu Bian stood in the shadows inside the hall, watching the last stack of scrolls being carried away, before letting out a soft sigh.

He then returned to the side hall and sat down at the table.

"Tomorrow at Chenshi (7-9 AM)," he whispered to Wang Ming, "have the teacher review the papers together. Let's find the ringleader first."

Wang Ming agreed and was about to leave when footsteps suddenly came from outside the hall—unhurried, yet carrying the unique etiquette of the palace.

A young eunuch entered the hall and prostrated himself on the ground:

"Your Highness, His Majesty has decreed that Your Highness must immediately proceed to the Zhangde Hall for an audience."

Liu Bian paused, his fingertips touching the ground.

It came faster than he expected.

-

Inside the Zhangde Hall, the incense burned faintly. Emperor Ling of Han leaned back on his couch, a lazy smile on his face, as if he had just finished watching a lively play.

"Bian'er is here?" He raised his hand, gesturing for her to come closer. "I heard you held a policy exam at the East Palace? It caused such a ruckus that the street outside the Imperial Academy was blocked."

Liu Bian bowed respectfully, his tone neither servile nor arrogant:

"Yes, Father. The examination is only for recruiting lecturers and probationary clerks, selecting capable people to meet the needs of the Crown Prince's studies and regulations."

Emperor Ling of Han chuckled: "I've heard about it before. That glued paper is quite novel; it doesn't bleed when you write, and the ink stays put. You certainly know how to play with things."

Zhao Zhong, who was standing beside the couch, twitched his eyelids and quickly stepped forward, adding oil in a shrill voice:

"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is young, so his mischief is to be expected. But this examination... it doesn't consider family background or recommendation. If the people at the Imperial Academy use this as an excuse to gather a crowd and start gossiping, it could cause a great disaster!"

Emperor Ling of Han waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away flies:

"Alright, alright, I didn't tell him to stop."

Zhao Zhong's expression changed, and he was about to persuade him again when he heard Emperor Ling of Han slowly say:

"However—the policy examination is one thing. Hiring lecturers and selecting a few capable clerks is fine. But do you intend to use it to find a 'great scholar'?"

He looked at Liu Bian, his smile fading slightly:

"The position of Grand Tutor is crucial to the succession to the throne, and I will choose it myself."

Liu Bian's heart sank, but he still answered steadily:

"Father's wise decision."

Zhao Zhong secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but his eyes remained cold.

Emperor Ling of Han tilted his head, seemingly asking casually:

"That Xun Yu by your side has been doing a lot of work for you lately. Now that he's here, let him have a look."

At the side of the hall, Xun Yu stepped forward, bowed, and said, "Your subject is here."

Emperor Ling of Han glanced at him: "Do you have anyone to recommend you?"

Xun Yu raised his head, his voice clear yet extremely steady:

"Your subject dares to recommend one person—Xun Shuang. He is well-versed in classical studies, renowned throughout the land, and his virtue is exemplary. He is suitable to serve as the Crown Prince's tutor."

"Xun Shuang..." Emperor Ling of Han narrowed his eyes. "I've heard of him. Some members of the partisan faction also called him 'pure and useful.'"

Zhao Zhong immediately interjected, smiling obsequiously:

"Your Majesty, the Xun family is certainly a prestigious one. However, the position of Grand Tutor should be filled by the most stable, reliable, and knowledgeable about palace etiquette. This old servant dares to recommend someone—Ma Ridi. Uncle Weng is unparalleled in literature and scholarship in his time, and having been in the capital for many years, he understands Your Majesty's intentions best."

"Ma Ridi?" Emperor Ling of Han was genuinely intrigued this time. "I remember, his memorial was well-written, and his calligraphy was excellent. Alright, summon both of them."

He sat up a little straighter as he spoke, as if he had finally changed from "watching the excitement" to "watching the outcome":

"Tomorrow, in the Zhangde Hall, I will personally ask him. Whoever answers to my satisfaction will become the Grand Tutor."

Liu Bian lowered his eyes, but he already understood: Zhao Zhong hadn't swallowed his anger; he had simply changed his method of twisting his wrist.

The next day, a strong wind was blowing outside Zhangde Hall.

The hall was more solemn than usual. Two seats were set up in front of the imperial couch, one to the east and one to the west. Behind the seats were tables with only a scripture, a cup of tea, and an inkstone.

The side hall was lined with eunuchs, palace attendants, and secretaries, and even several renowned scholars were summoned to listen in.

Liu Bian sat in a side seat, with a small table in front of him, but no paper or pen were placed there—he was not an examinee today, but the crown prince being used as an "exam question".

A voice announced this from outside the palace.

Xun Shuang entered the hall first.

He was old, with slightly graying temples, dressed simply and elegantly, his steps unhurried, yet his back remained ramrod straight when he bowed.

"Your subject Xun Shuang pays his respects to Your Majesty."

Ma Ridi then entered the hall.

Ma Ridi had a sharper air about him, with a scholarly air about him, yet also a hint of unyielding angularity. He also bowed respectfully.

"Your Majesty, I'm going to bow to your Majesty."

Emperor Ling of Han nodded with a smile:

"Both of you are great Confucian scholars of our time. Today I will not listen to your mutual praise or insults. I will only ask you three questions: the way of the Grand Tutor, the essentials of the classics, and the methods of educating the heir apparent."

As he said this, he pointed at Liu Bian:

"Those who answer well will become Grand Tutors; those who answer poorly, I will not blame—but do not mislead my Crown Prince."

Zhao Zhong smiled sinisterly from the side, like a net quietly being unfurled.

Emperor Ling of Han's first question went straight to the heart of the matter:

"Why is the position of Grand Tutor established? What is he teaching the Crown Prince?"

Ma Ridi answered first, his voice clear and resonant:

"The Grand Tutor is above the Three Dukes. He does not merely impart texts and sentences, but also corrects the heart and straightens the conduct. He teaches the Crown Prince with the classics, takes rites as the guiding principle, and music as the harmony, so that the Crown Prince knows the dignity of the Son of Heaven and the importance of guarding the ancestral temple."

He cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, his words flowing smoothly and steadily:

"The Crown Prince is young, so 'respect' should be the top priority. Respect means not acting rashly, not speaking recklessly, and not being swayed by external things."

These few words of "respect" were most pleasing to Emperor Ling of Han—meaning no trouble, no escaping disaster.

Xun Shuang, however, was in no hurry. He waited until Ma Ridi finished speaking before slowly opening his own mouth:

"Uncle Weng said that 'respect' is fundamental. Your subject dares not disagree."

"However, the responsibility of the Grand Tutor is not only to uphold the Crown Prince's 'respect,' but also to teach the Crown Prince 'decisiveness.'"

He looked at Liu Bian, then at Emperor Ling of Han, his tone low, yet each word resonated like an imprint:

"The Crown Prince resides in the Eastern Palace and will inherit the throne in the future. If he only knows respect but not decisiveness, he will let powerful and influential people make decisions for him when things happen; if he only knows etiquette but not law, he will let powerful and influential people act in his place when things get tough."

"The Grand Tutor should teach him to 'know his place, understand what is important and what is not, and determine what comes first'—so that he can hold the reins himself and not be held by others."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Although the words were not named, the mention of "Quan Xing" was like a gust of wind passing through the palace beams, causing Zhao Zhong's eyelids to twitch on the spot.

Emperor Ling of Han narrowed his eyes, showing no anger but rather a hint of interest: "Continue."

The Analects says: "If you govern the people by laws and regulate them by punishments, they will avoid punishment but have no sense of shame. If you govern them by virtue and regulate them by rites, they will have a sense of shame and moreover become good." You each tell me: Should we prioritize virtue or punishments in governing a country?

Ma Ridi gave a brilliant answer:

"Virtue comes first, then propriety. Punishment is secondary. When virtue is established, people will naturally transform; when propriety is practiced, customs will naturally be correct. Punishment should not come first, otherwise the people will fear and not be close, and superiors and inferiors will distrust each other."

He paused slightly at this point, as if intentionally or unintentionally suppressing the winds of the "new law":

"If we establish new systems using criminal law, it may damage the foundation of Confucianism and shake people's hearts."

Xun Shuang gently shook his head:

"I dare not say that punishment takes precedence over virtue. But I dare not say that virtue can be separated from the law."

He raised his hand, lightly tapping the scroll with his fingertips, his tone as calm as if he were stating common sense:

"Virtue is like the sun, illuminating all things; law is like a plumb line, measuring straightness and crookedness. Without the sun, all things are cold; without the plumb line, all things are in chaos."

"Your Majesty governs the world with virtue, and all officials look up to you. But for virtue to be implemented, there must be laws and regulations. If disaster relief is carried out without laws and regulations, grain will be stolen; if the selection of officials is not conducted according to procedures, reputation will be based on personal feelings."

"When the Grand Tutor teaches the Crown Prince, he should teach him: virtue is the heart, and law is the hand—only when the heart is upright and the hand is steady can one avoid making mistakes."

When Emperor Ling of Han heard the words "If disaster relief is not carried out in accordance with regulations, the grain will be stolen," his eyes twitched slightly, as if he had suddenly remembered something—Luoyang had been plagued by disasters in recent years, and he was not unaware of the many shady dealings involved in the relief grain, but he simply did not want to delve into it.

The third question finally came down to "the method of educating and training successors".

Emperor Ling of Han put down his teacup, his voice slowing down:

"You all speak so eloquently. But let me ask you the truth: the Crown Prince is young, and while he is indeed intelligent, how should he be taught to both study the classics and understand state affairs? Should he be made to memorize more texts, or should he be given more practical tasks?"

Zhao Zhong subtly raised his chin beside him—this way of asking the question was most likely to elicit the response, "The Crown Prince should remain calm and not act rashly."

Ma Ridi naturally followed through and answered:

"The classics are fundamental, and the chapters and sentences should be thoroughly understood. The Crown Prince should first establish a solid foundation before discussing practical matters. The affairs are numerous and complex, which can easily damage one's integrity. Moreover, the palace officials have their own responsibilities, and the Crown Prince only needs to understand the general principles and should not delve too deeply into them."

His words were carefully chosen and watertight: "Your Highness, don't meddle too much, lest you cause trouble."

Xun Shuang suddenly countered with a question, his tone still respectful, yet sharp enough to send a chill down one's spine:

"What Uncle Weng said is true. If a time comes when 'the ministers do not act as ministers,' how will the Crown Prince conduct himself?"

The hall fell silent.

The power of this statement lies not in its literal meaning, but in the way it subtly lifts a corner of a black cloth—who in the palace are the "ministers," and who are the "non-ministers"? Everyone has their own answer.

Ma Ridi's brow twitched slightly, as if he wanted to retract his words into the context of classical texts:

"The crown prince has a teacher, a tutor, and three high-ranking officials to assist him—"

Xun Shuang, however, calmly continued:

"A master can teach a person books, and an assistant can do things for them. But if they do things for a long time, it becomes a habit; if they do things for a long time, it becomes a power."

He turned to Emperor Ling of Han and bowed deeply:

"Your Majesty is wise and knows that the most difficult thing to regain is to seize power. I believe that the key to teaching the Crown Prince is not to let him 'meddle more,' but to let him 'know how to manage.'"

"The way to manage people is not to let them fight for power, but to let them learn the rules first."

He paused, as if driving a nail into the hall:

"Let him learn from paperwork, from sealing and keeping records, from the importance of accountability—so that he knows: what to ask, and to what extent to ask; who to use, and to what extent to use; what to say, and when to stop."

"In this way, the crown prince neither acts rashly nor is he blinded by others. He neither acts arrogantly nor is he led astray."

Emperor Ling's smile slowly faded.

He stared at Xun Shuang, then suddenly asked a question that sounded like casual conversation but wasn't:

"Are you teaching the crown prince to 'guard against others'?"

Xun Shuang neither dodged nor evaded, and his answer was extremely clever:

"Your subject instructed the Crown Prince on 'rectifying names'."

"When names are correct, a subject is a subject, a son is a son, and an official is an official. When names are incorrect, powerful and influential people will disregard the emperor's orders, and the strong and powerful will disregard the law—that is truly impossible to guard against."

Upon hearing the phrase "a usurper acting on behalf of the emperor," Zhao Zhong's face finally broke down, and his eye twitched.

But Emperor Ling of Han smiled in silence.

That laugh wasn't like the laugh of someone watching a spectacle; it was more like the laugh of someone who had suddenly heard "he actually understands."

He raised his hand and pointed at the two of them:

"Ma Ridi's writing is competent, and his reputation is good. But when I choose a tutor for the Crown Prince, I don't just want someone who can write and speak well."

He looked at Xun Shuang and slowly said:

"I need someone... who can explain the scriptures in a way that is both proper and practical."

One sentence decided the outcome.

Zhao Zhong's face turned pale. He wanted to speak, but Emperor Ling of Han silenced him with a single glance.

"Issue the decree." Emperor Ling of Han waved his sleeve lazily, yet it was as if he had issued an ironclad order: "Xun Shuang shall be appointed Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince and enter the Eastern Palace to tutor him in the classics. Ma Ridi—remain as Grand Counselor and continue to serve me."

Xun Shuang prostrated himself on the ground and kowtowed: "Your subject obeys the decree."

Ma Ridi bowed in response, but a complex emotion flashed in his eyes—a mixture of resentment and relief: in this game, it wasn't about who lost, but who was in greater danger.