Chapter 290: Chapter 119: Mr. Sheng (Part 3)

The old man seemed to be recalling something from his past. His expression grew somber, a visible sadness washing over his face.

He fell silent, and the others didn’t dare disturb him. They all drank their tea quietly, listening to the boisterous discussions filling the teahouse.

The scholars in the teahouse were all talking about Mr. Sheng, the Magistrate of Xinghuai Prefecture.

Mr. Sheng’s given name was Sheng Mingchuan.

He was among the first group of Advanced Scholars after the new dynasty was founded and the civil service examinations were reinstated. From the moment he passed the highest examination, his life took off as if blessed.

He became an Advanced Scholar at twenty-five, was selected as a scholar the following year, and was appointed as an editor at the Hanlin Academy, officially beginning his career in government.

Starting from a prestigious and scholarly post in the Hanlin Academy, Sheng Mingchuan went on to serve as an Imperial Censor, a Supervising Secretary, a Magistrate, and the Governor-General of Liangjiang, among other positions. Everywhere he went, his administrative achievements were outstanding.

He was an honest official who was sympathetic to the common people. He was particularly skilled at flood control, reorganizing the grain transport system, and reforming the salt administration. He was one of the new dynasty’s most renowned and pragmatic officials.

At that time, Sheng Mingchuan’s accomplishments were immense, his reputation grew daily, he had hundreds of disciples, and his friends and allies were spread throughout the imperial court.

Perhaps even Heaven couldn’t bear to see Sheng Mingchuan’s continued success. He was returning to the capital for an audience with the Emperor, having been commended for implementing the "Salt Voucher Law" that allowed common people to buy affordable salt. On his journey, desperate salt smugglers took a huge risk and retaliated by smashing the hull of his ship.

Sheng Mingchuan was lucky to survive, rescued by a loyal servant. But his eldest son, who was traveling with him, could not be saved in time and was stabbed in the heart by a salt smuggler.

When his body was recovered, it was already bloated and disfigured from the water.

Witnessing the tragic death of his only son, the one in whom he had placed such high hopes, Sheng Mingchuan fell gravely ill. Disheartened and disillusioned, he submitted his resignation.

At the time, Sheng Mingchuan was not yet fifty, still in the prime of his life and career.

But with his eldest son’s death, life lost all meaning for him. He built a secluded hut and lived as a hermit, detached from worldly affairs for over eight years.

It wasn’t until the birth of his younger son that Sheng Mingchuan came out of retirement, thinking of the child’s future.

Alas, the late Emperor had passed away and the current Emperor had ascended the throne. With a new ruler comes a new court. Sheng Mingchuan, who had been heavily favored during the late Emperor’s reign, had to accept the fate of serving as a fourth-rank Magistrate in the remote Xinghuai Prefecture.

To speak of this Mr. Sheng’s life was to speak of a legend.

And after taking office as the Magistrate of Xinghuai Prefecture, Mr. Sheng launched bold and sweeping reforms. He promoted education, repaired irrigation systems, rooted out corruption, and introduced better seed varieties, truly living up to his conviction to work for the people’s well-being.

The man’s knowledge was vast; one could say he was well-versed in everything from astronomy to geography. His literary talent, in particular, had often earned the late Emperor’s highest praise.

An official like this, when setting an exam, was bound to ask profound questions. A superficial answer or two would hardly meet his standards.

And indeed, that was the case.

Although the prefectural examination had, since ancient times, merely been a screening for entry-level students, with Mr. Sheng presiding, its difficulty surpassed even that of the academy examination, leaving the students trembling with anxiety.

The students were deeply worried. "I wonder what kind of questions the Lord Prefect will set this time."

"The Lord Prefect needs his own political achievements. If our answers on the prefectural exam are too abysmal, it will reflect poorly on him before the Emperor. If only for his own career, Mr. Sheng won’t make it too difficult for us."

"Hard to say. Mr. Sheng doesn’t tolerate any imperfections..."

"What’s the use? He’s getting on in years, and there’s no one in his family to hold things up. His only son, the young one, is just five years old this year..."

The speaker stopped just short of saying that Mr. Sheng was a paper tiger. When he died, it would be like a tree falling and the monkeys scattering. His young son couldn’t possibly protect such a large family estate; it would just be devoured by his clansmen. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

So what if he’s a Lord Prefect with immense achievements?

Who knows, for the sake of the property in his name, his young son might not even keep his life. A hundred years from now, there won’t even be anyone to burn incense at his grave. In that sense, he’s worse off than poor scholars like us.

How fortunes change—thirty years on the east bank of the river, thirty years on the west...

As soon as these words were spoken, the teahouse fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

A scholar rose to his feet in anger. "You don’t hit a man in the face, and you don’t expose his sore spots when you insult him! Who is so vile? Show yourself and let’s debate right and wrong face to face!"

Naturally, no one stood up. After all, they were all here for the prefectural and academy examinations. Who would dare to so casually offend their "parent official"?

Back in their hometowns, they had to flatter and revere even the Lord County Magistrate. Here in the Prefecture, they might dare to gossip about the Lord Prefect, emboldened by the crowd, but to actually stand up and be identified... they wouldn’t dare, not even on pain of death.

For a long while, there was no movement in the teahouse. Gradually, one scholar stood up and led the way out.

’This is a place of trouble. We’d better leave quickly. If word of today’s incident reaches the Lord Prefect’s ears and we get implicated, wouldn’t that be an injustice?’

The large teahouse, which had been packed to the brim just moments ago, gradually emptied until only two or three tables of customers remained.

Zhao Jing’s table was one of them.

They didn’t leave because they had a clear conscience. Besides, their corner was near the staircase, and a waiter had just been taking tea upstairs. They had a witness who could prove that no one at their table had said anything improper, so they weren’t afraid of being held responsible.