Chapter 3: Proving Her Essay by Memory

The window paper on the western annex had a tear in one corner. The sun slipped through the gap and fell on the desk, catching a worn-out brush and glinting off its frayed tip.

Chen Baosheng picked up the brush. The tip had split into two. She pinched it with her fingernail, trying to force the bristles back together. It wouldn’t budge.

Concubine Liu sat by the window, mending clothes. Her needle flew. “Has the red paper gone up?”

“It’s up.”

“Madam Chen ordered it?”

“She did.”

Concubine Liu’s needle paused for a heartbeat, then resumed its rhythm. “The sun must be coming up from the west.”

“Yi-niang,” Chen Baosheng set the brush down. “How many years have you been in this courtyard?”

“Sixteen.” Concubine Liu didn’t look up. “Your father took me the year Madam Chen arrived, her third year in the house.”

“Sixteen years, and she hasn’t given you a kind face once.”

“She has,” Concubine Liu said. “A bolt of cloth for the festivals. Not a kind face, but not a harsh one either.”

Chen Baosheng didn’t answer.

She closed her eyes and reached for the book in her mind.

The book was still there. That page she’d turned earlier was gone now; flip forward, nothing but white. The line “On the day of the Prefectural Examination, a coffin will be carried before the gate of the Chen Family” sat etched into the paper like it was carved with a needle. It wouldn’t scrub off.

Flip forward—white pages, one after another, blindingly white.

“What are you spacing out for?” Concubine Liu asked.

“Thinking things over.”

“About what?”

“About that coffin.”

Concubine Liu’s hand jerked; the needle pricked her finger. “What coffin?”

“Nothing.” Chen Baosheng opened her eyes. “Just idling my mouth.”

Concubine Liu looked like she was going to press further, but a flurry of footsteps at the gateway stopped her. Chunxing pulled the curtain aside and rushed in, her face flushed bright red.

“Miss! Uncle Jingzhai is here!”

Chen Baosheng raised her eyes. “Which Uncle Jingzhai?”

“Uncle Jingzhai of the clan! He brought young master Baozhang, and Instructor Zhou from the school!” Chunxing was panting. “The moment Uncle Jingzhai walked in, he asked who ordered the red paper up. His face was so dark you could squeeze ink out of it. Eldest Miss is in the main hall, right now, pouring tea for Uncle Jingzhai herself.”

Concubine Liu stood up; the clothes in her hand dropped to the floor. “What does he want?”

“No idea. He’s in the main hall. Madam Chen has already gone over there.”

Chen Baosheng slipped the worn brush back into her sleeve and stood up.

Concubine Liu grabbed her arm firmly. “Don’t go. Uncle Jingzhai is the highest seniority in the clan. His son Baozhang is a licentiate, and he’s a Sponsored Candidate himself. If you go in there, you’ll take a beating.”

“If I don’t go, someone will tear that red paper down.” Chen Baosheng brushed off her hand. “Yi-niang, stay in the room. Don’t come out.”

She pulled the curtain aside and stepped out.

The sun beat down on her face; the blue brick floor was hot under her feet.

Five people sat in the main hall.

Madam Chen sat at the top, fingers twirling a string of prayer beads, her face a blank slate.

On the left sat Chen Jingzhai. He was in his fifties, thin as a rail, with a few bristles of a goatee and wearing a blue silk robe that had seen better days. He sat ramrod straight. Standing beside him was Chen Baozhang, about twenty years old, pale-faced, with his chin tucked up high.

On the right sat Instructor Zhou. He wore a blue cloth shirt, his hair graying at the temples, with a cup of tea in front of him that hadn’t been touched.

Chen Baochai sat on a cushion at the lower end, a round fan gripped in her hand. The orchid painted on the face of the fan was exquisite.

Chen Baosheng entered the hall, bowed to Madam Chen, then to Instructor Zhou, and finally curtsied to Chen Jingzhai. “Uncle Jingzhai.”

Chen Jingzhai didn’t answer. He just scanned her up and down with his eyes.

“Who ordered the red paper up?” He spoke, his voice low. He put heavy emphasis on the word *who*.

“I ordered it,” Madam Chen said.

Chen Jingzhai turned to her. “Sister-in-law, are you delusional?”

“The only time you said I wasn’t delusional was six years ago.”

“Six years ago, the Chen Family hadn’t produced a female First Place (An Shou)!” Chen Jingzhai slammed his palm on the table; the tea cup jumped. “What’s the county saying now? That the Chen Family is empty-handed, that we’re passing off a girl to save face! My Chen family has six generations of scholar-officials. Having a girl take First Place, where do the rest of the clan’s sons look in the world?”

Chen Baozhang spoke quietly. “Father, calm down.”

“Calm down!” Chen Jingzhai pointed at Chen Baosheng. “Ask her if that essay was written by her.”

The hall fell silent for a second.

Chen Baochai covered her mouth with her fan, letting out a soft laugh. “Uncle Jingzhai, I’ve said it before. My sister is just a girl. She can’t even recite *The Admonitions for Women* properly in her daily life. How did she suddenly write the essay for First Place?”

Chen Baosheng glanced at her.

“Sister Baochai, I can recite *The Admonitions for Women*,” she said. “But you, Sister, why weren’t you there on the day we registered for the County Examination?”

Chen Baochai’s face stiffened. “I—I”

“Baochai.” Madam Chen’s voice cut in. “Say less.”

Chen Baochai lowered the fan and shut up.

Chen Jingzhai let out a cold snort. He pulled a neatly folded paper from his sleeve and slapped it on the table.

“*Discourse on the Uncleaned Well*,” he said. “Baozhang wrote on the same topic last year in his private school. The draft is still sitting in my study. Your version is clearly a stolen copy of his old essay!”

Chen Baozhang’s expression flickered. He opened his mouth to speak, but his father’s sharp glare cut him off.

Chen Baosheng looked at the paper, then suddenly smiled.

“Uncle Jingzhai says I stole Brother Baozhang’s old essay?”

“Or what else?”

“Then please, Uncle, unroll the old essay. In front of Mr. Zhou, recite the opening argument.”

Chen Jingzhai hesitated.

Instructor Zhou set down his tea cup, reached out, and took the paper. He unfolded it and read.

Chen Baosheng didn’t watch him. She looked at Chen Jingzhai. “Uncle Jingzhai, what is the first sentence of the opening argument in my essay?”

“...”

“You haven’t read my papers,” Chen Baosheng said. “The County Examination involves blind grading and transcription. My original paper is sealed at the county yamen. This piece you’re holding is Brother Baozhang’s old draft. Uncle doesn’t even know what I wrote. How can you know I stole this specific piece?”

Chen Jingzhai’s face froze for a moment.

Chen Baozhang murmured, “Father, my essay wasn’t bad. Maybe she heard about the topic from someone...”

“Brother Baozhang.” Chen Baosheng turned to him. “Your essay’s opening argument was: ‘The well nourishes people by being drawn from, it does not lose its purity because it is not drawn from.’”

Chen Baozhang blinked. “How do you know that?”

“The second session of the County Examination used *Discourse on the Uncleaned Well* as the topic,” Chen Baosheng said. “Your essay failed; mine took First Place (An Shou). If you don’t believe me, let Mr. Zhou judge.”

Instructor Zhou put the paper down and coughed lightly.

“Brother Jingzhai,” he said slowly, “I came here today to deliver the sponsorship list for the Prefectural Examination. Since I’ve run into this mess, I’ll say a few words.”

Chen Jingzhai cupped his hands in a bow. “Please, sir.”

“The County Examination involves blind grading. I have seen the paper for First Place (An Shou),” Instructor Zhou said. “The opening argument was: ‘The well, unused but cleared; the man, unmet but refined.’”

Chen Baosheng didn’t blink. That was her sentence.

“This line ties ‘unused’ and ‘refined’ together,” Instructor Zhou continued. “The entire essay argues about ‘meeting fate vs. not meeting it,’ ending with ‘The scholar-official does not abandon his studies just because he is unmet.’ I remember Baozhang’s essay too. Its opening was ‘The well nourishes people...’ The whole thing kept circling around ‘nourishment.’ The scope was narrower by a whole layer.”

He paused, looking at Chen Jingzhai. “Brother Jingzhai, these two essays are not the same.”

No one in the hall spoke.

Chen Jingzhai’s face went from red to white, then to a sickly green. He grabbed the paper from the table, shook it, then dropped it.

“Even if it wasn’t stolen—” He changed the subject. “Even if she wrote it herself, a woman taking the exam is against the rules. The Prefectural Examination requires two Sponsored Candidates (Lin Sheng) to sponsor the applicant. I am the only Sponsored Candidate in the clan. If I don’t sponsor her, she can’t even enter the exam hall.”

As soon as this was said, a light sound came from the doorway. Concubine Liu had somehow positioned herself outside the curtain, holding the doorframe.

Madam Chen’s prayer beads started turning again.

Chen Baochai flicked her fan, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

Chen Baosheng looked at Chen Jingzhai. She counted three breaths.

“Uncle Jingzhai,” she said. “If you don’t sponsor me, I won’t beg you.”

Chen Jingzhai sneered. “If you don’t beg me, who do you beg? There are only a handful of Sponsored Candidates (Lin Sheng) in the county. Who dares to sponsor a girl and anger the Chen Family?”

“Uncle is right,” Chen Baosheng nodded. “So I plan to go take the exam myself.”

“*You*?”

“The rules for the Prefectural Examination say a Sponsored Candidate (Lin Sheng) sponsors your clean background, no false household registration, no impersonation,” Chen Baosheng said. “My name is Chen. The clan genealogy is in the ancestral hall. My father is a member of the Chen clan. My mother is from a respectable family. If Uncle won’t sponsor me, I’ll find someone else. There’s more than just Uncle among the Sponsored Candidates (Lin Sheng) in the county.”

Chen Jingzhai blinked.

Instructor Zhou suddenly burst out laughing, his beard twitching.

“Good,” he said. “I’ve been an instructor for thirty years. First time I’ve heard a girl recite the Prefectural Examination regulations so clearly.”

He pulled another document from his sleeve and placed it on the table. “If Brother Jingzhai won’t sponsor, I will.”

Chen Jingzhai shot to his feet. “Mr. Zhou!”

“I am the instructor of the county school. By rule, I can sponsor a junior candidate,” Instructor Zhou lifted his tea and blew on it. “Besides, I’m curious to see how far this girl can get in the Prefectural Examination.”

Chen Jingzhai stood there, chest heaving.

Chen Baozhang tugged at his sleeve. “Father, forget it...”

“*Forget it*?” Chen Jingzhai shook him off and pointed at Chen Baosheng. “Go take the exam! If you pass, I, Chen Jingzhai, will write my name backwards!”

“No need to write it backwards, Uncle,” Chen Baosheng said. “Just remember: today, this red paper was ordered by Madam Chen. It was earned by me, Chen Baosheng.”

Chen Jingzhai swept his sleeve and left. Chen Baozhang followed, but paused at the doorway, looking back with a complicated expression.

Chen Baochai also stood up, gripping her fan tightly. “See you later, Uncle.” She took two steps after him, then stopped, turning to look at Chen Baosheng.

There was no smile in that look.

The hall fell quiet.

Madam Chen twirled her prayer beads, watching Chen Baosheng for a while.

“You said earlier you’d find someone else to sponsor you,” she said. “You knew Mr. Zhou would sponsor you?”

Chen Baosheng shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

“Then why were you so confident?”

“I was gambling,” Chen Baosheng said. “Gambling that Mr. Zhou loves talent.”

Madam Chen stared at her, then let out a light laugh. “You have more courage than your father.”

She stood and walked toward the inner rooms. Two steps in, she stopped. “The expenses for the Prefectural Examination will come from the public funds.”

The door curtain dropped.

Instructor Zhou also stood up and pushed the sponsorship list toward Chen Baosheng. “Register at the county school in three days. Bring your household registration. Girl, one more thing from old man— the Prefectural Examination is ten times harder than the County Examination. You’ll need to practice more with this style of writing.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Instructor Zhou walked to the doorway, then suddenly turned back. “By the way, how did you know the opening argument of Baozhang’s essay just now?”

Chen Baosheng smiled. “I guessed.”

Instructor Zhou looked at her, shook his head, and left.

The sun was tilting west.

Chen Baosheng returned to the western annex. Concubine Liu held her and cried, then laughed, and finally wiped her eyes as she went to the kitchen to boil eggs for her.

She sat at the desk and spread out the sponsorship list.

That book in her head suddenly flipped a page.

She hadn’t turned it.

A line of words surfaced on the paper, fainter than last time, like looking through a layer of water—

“The Prefectural Examination results: seventh row.”

Chen Baosheng stared at the line, tapping her finger on the desk twice.

Seventh row.

She had counted the County Examination board; First Place (An Shou) was in the top row. The seventh row meant seventh place.

How many people were selected for the Prefectural Examination? She didn’t know. But she remembered the last time that line of words had appeared. It had said, “A coffin will be carried before the gate of the Chen Family.”

She closed her eyes.

“Seventh row,” she whispered. “Is that coffin on the seventh row, too?”

Outside the window, Chen Baochai stood on the corridor, watching through the window paper. She watched for a long time.

Her fan lay at her feet. She didn’t pick it up.