Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

Xu Yanmiao’s thoughts shifted again to the recent humiliation:

[The envoy from Mengman is bold! After arriving in the capital, he’s been idly dragging the Ministry of Rites officials out to the suburbs for horse-riding and archery, leaving them sore and aching every day. They’re all avoiding him!]

[Tsk tsk, today he couldn’t find anyone, so he’s going crazy, saying Da Xia’s riding and archery skills are nothing special and boasting that he’s invincible in these disciplines. So arrogant.]

[Too bad the old emperor probably doesn’t know about this, or he could slap him back and I could enjoy the spectacle.]

Xu Yanmiao’s thoughts were full of regret.

The generals shared the sentiment.

What a pity! No excuse to destroy a country.

The burly generals were hunched over their small desks, holding brushes in one hand and scratching their heads with the other.

How were they supposed to write this summary?

The old emperor silently judged: Nonsense!

[Let’s borrow the “infantry and cavalry nightmare” from a certain ancient text and say I read it somewhere.]

The old emperor took a deep breath, his eyes blazing as he stared at Xu Yanmiao.@@novelbin@@

Truly a “little Bai Ze”!

What on earth was this “nightmare”?

[It’s thanks to this thing that tanks were developed.]

What’s a “tank”?

The ministers of Da Xia were utterly confused.

But Xu Yanmiao didn’t seem inclined to satisfy their curiosity. He was busy writing his answer.

Finally, Xu Yanmiao submitted his test.

As he handed it in, he noticed that many people seemed to sigh in relief.

?

[So many slackers?]

Xu Yanmiao thought he was late in submitting, but it turned out those sighing were just relieved someone else had turned in their paper first—they were nervous about being the last.

The old emperor, evidently feeling he’d given enough time, didn’t want to wait any longer. The next moment, Xu Yanmiao heard him declare: “Time’s up.”

The examination hall instantly erupted with groans of despair. Many hadn’t finished writing, their faces turning pale.

The old emperor calmly stated, “The Prime Minister and the six ministry heads will first review the submissions. As for those who did not complete their papers, the Jin Yi Wei will inspect them one by one. If the content appears substantial, they may be granted an extension. However, if only an introduction or a few lines were written, then…”

A sudden thought of the Mongolian provocation crossed the emperor’s mind, and he added, “They’ll go outside and practice horse stance. For officials ranked third-grade and above, half an hour; for fourth-grade and below, 45 minutes; and for ninth-grade and below, 15 minutes.”

Several officials dejectedly shuffled out, including one of the second rank.

“What are you looking at!” The Deputy Commander of the Left Army clenched his fist and waved it menacingly.

Never seen a military official fail a written exam, have you?

The civil officials, unwilling to offend this rough and tough man, quickly avoided his gaze. With a heavy snort, the deputy commander strode out… to practice his horse stance.

The six ministry heads swiftly began reviewing the reports from the imperial tour. However, Xu Yanmiao’s report was delivered directly to the emperor’s desk. To avoid suspicion, it was buried among several dozen others, appearing utterly ordinary.

The emperor endured several dull reports, his eyes skimming over their uninspired content, his pen moving swiftly. Finally, he reached Xu Yanmiao’s report.

At that moment, Xu Yanmiao’s inner monologue rang out: [Finally, it’s my turn. Darn it, why does it have to be the emperor reviewing it? If it were the head of my department, they might have been more lenient.]

The Minister of Personnel felt perplexed.

Has my reputation for leniency spread to the lower ranks? Or does only Xu Yanmiao know?

As he pondered, he glanced at a random report under review, quickly marked it with a mediocre grade, and set it aside.

If this were the modern day, it would likely come with a side note: decent handwriting, +10 points; adequate word count, though unremarkable content, +30 points; proper formatting, +10 points; clean and tidy presentation, no corrections, +5 points; sure, let’s round it up to 60.

Meanwhile, the Minister of Personnel subtly listened for any hints from Xu Yanmiao about his report.

[I wonder if it will pass… It should, right? After all, that tactic is incredibly effective. It wasn’t just useful in World War I; even in World War II, with tanks on the battlefield, it still proved its worth, albeit less dramatically than in World War I.]

The gathered officials—especially the military officers—felt a surge of excitement.

So, what is it? What is this ultimate weapon against cavalry?

“Xu Yanmiao,” the emperor finally called out.

Upon being informed by the Jin Yi Wei, Xu Yanmiao quickly stood and jogged to the front. “Your Majesty, your humble servant is here.”

The emperor shook the paper in his hand. “Your report lacks sufficient detail. Explain to us what exactly these ringed barbed wire and concertina wire are.”

Author’s Note:

Thumbs-up gestures existed, but they were from relatively recent dynasties:

Deng Jiugong, upon hearing this, raised his cup, drained it in one gulp, gave a thumbs-up, and said, “Excellent!”

—Excerpt from The Tale of Heroes and Heroines, written during the Daoguang era of the Qing Dynasty.

The concept of competitive challenges referenced:

During the emperor’s reign, an envoy from the northern tribes boasted of his drinking prowess. An official was selected to accompany him but was feared to be no match. The emperor allowed ministers to volunteer, and Zhuangyuan Zeng Qi stepped forward. When asked about his drinking capacity, he replied, “It doesn’t matter how much; I will outlast this envoy.” The three drank silently all day. The envoy became drunk, the military officer fell over, but Zeng Qi remained unshaken and returned with success. The emperor laughed, saying, “Beyond literary skills, isn’t this drinking capacity also worthy of a Ming Zhuangyuan?” He rewarded him generously with imperial wine.

—Excerpt from Ming Xiaoshiji

The punishment of horse stance was inspired by a historical account of ministers skipping court and being punished with lime hauling:

On a certain date, the emperor conducted sacrificial rites. Noticing the low attendance of court officials, the Jin Yi Wei and the Office of Ceremonies were tasked to record absences. A total of 1,118 officials were absent. The emperor decreed: “These individuals disregard protocol and are lazy in their court duties. They shall be punished lightly this time.” Officials of the third rank and above were ordered to carry 5,000 catties of lime, those of the fourth rank and below 3,000 catties, and those of the ninth rank and below 1,500 catties. The sick were to be inspected and reported.

Only the Duke of Yingguo, Zhang Mao, who voluntarily confessed his guilt, was exempted. Later, it was discovered that many claims of illness were false, and the emperor ordered all others, except the genuinely ill, to carry lime as prescribed.

—Excerpt from Ming Shilu: Records of the Reign of Emperor Xianzong

TN: If hauling lime was a historical punishment, practicing horse stance is quite reasonable, no? 😉