Chapter 10: Apprenticeship and Extra Training, Minor Heat Assessment

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The first straw effigy he crafted wobbled uncertainly, unable to stand firm. The second, though still staggering, held its posture more steadily. The third moved with increasing speed.

...

When Xue Wenzhong returned after circling the front courtyard, he was astonished to see in the backyard one straw figure striding swiftly; a second hopping among the haystacks; a third swinging beneath the locust tree; a fourth threshing grain nearby; and a fifth weeding in the vegetable garden.

Though several “failed specimens” had overturned baskets, knocked down clothes racks, and startled the chickens and ducks, Xue Wenzhong paid them no mind.

Fixing his gaze on the few straw men that already bore a hint of spirit and grace, he strode quickly to Zhao Xing, who was propping up the clothes rack and gathering up baskets.

“I was only gone for half an hour, and you managed to make all this?” Xue Wenzhong asked.

Zhao Xing glanced at the somewhat disheveled backyard, feeling apologetic. “Sorry, Master Xue. I’ll clean it up quickly. But one of the ducks has already flown beyond the fence... I’ll compensate you with a duck!”

The wrinkles on Xue Wenzhong’s face deepened as he smiled, his expression softening. He seized Zhao Xing’s arm. “A mere duck—what does it matter? Don’t worry about it!”

Patting Zhao Xing’s shoulder, he continued, “Work hard. Aim for a top grade in the winter evaluation. Then when the spring temple exam comes, you’ll be officially appointed. There will definitely be a place for you.”

Zhao Xing hesitated for a moment, then, realizing the Chief Agricultural Officer was not blaming him, he smiled and cupped his hands in thanks. “Thank you, Master.”

“It’s just that the Agricultural Office is full of experts. My rank is low; I might not be able to compete...” Zhao Xing trailed off.

Xue Wenzhong understood the unsaid part—that some in the office accepted bribes and gave undue favors.

“You have such talent. I’ve truly overlooked it before; that’s my fault. From now on, you may come to the backyard every day and study for an hour more.”

Zhao Xing’s earlier hesitation had been deliberate—this was exactly the encouragement he sought. Now that Xue Wenzhong spoke so earnestly, it was clear he regarded him almost like a disciple. Zhao Xing wasted no time climbing the ladder.

Instantly changing his formality, he bowed deeply and said, “Disciple thanks Master for your nurturing kindness.”

Xue Wenzhong, struck by a rare impulse, accepted the bow seriously. He had never been competitive before, but now in his old age, seeing a promising young man stirred his heart.

“Keep up the effort; don’t waste your talent. Work well, and your day will come. I don’t care what others do. If next year you still can’t pass, I’ll step down and give my place to you!”

If anyone else said this, Zhao Xing would think it empty talk.

But coming from Xue Wenzhong, it carried great weight. He was known for keeping his word, and he was old enough to retire. If the quotas were tight and Zhao Xing’s ranking borderline, he might really relinquish his post.

“Thank you, Master. I will study hard and never disappoint your expectations.”

...

In the next three days, Zhao Xing learned from Xue Wenzhong a fourth method of crafting straw figures.

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Even Xue Wenzhong was surprised at Zhao Xing’s progress—remember, Zhao Xing was only practicing the “Willow Script Technique” for an extra hour each day!

Zhao Xing felt deeply moved:

“With both destiny and treasure blessings, not only has my cultivation accelerated, but I’ve earned the Chief Agricultural Officer’s recognition. The Dream Academy truly is a great place—just a small advantage gained, yet such a big change.”

However, at night when he attempted to enter the Dream Academy again, he found even the Questioning Heart Platform had hidden itself away. Perhaps he was too weak, lacking the proper challenge to reach it.

At this moment, Zhao Xing was walking through the eastern suburban fields.

As a junior agricultural clerk, he studied in the mornings and labored in the afternoons.

Besides miscellaneous tasks such as advising on farming and yield inspections, he also managed farmland—depending on his superior’s assignments.

Having many people had its drawbacks and advantages. Under Xue Wenzhong, work was relatively light because with more hands, the workload each superior assigned was less, leaving more time for study and exam preparation.

The Agricultural Officer’s promotion involved several parts.

First was responsibility for harvests in their assigned rural districts—data collected by the county office, not directly overseen by the Agricultural Officer.

Most towns were roughly equal, but there were distinctions of good, average, and poor land. Being assigned a better district was naturally advantageous, but Xue Wenzhong didn’t compete for these; the good ones were divided among the other officers.

Second was moral evaluation, encompassing many aspects: completion of miscellaneous tasks assigned by superiors, attitude toward study, reputation, and so forth. There were no clear standards, as authority rested with the supervisors.

Third was ability evaluation, based on the twenty-four solar terms. The eight principal terms—Beginning of Spring, Spring Equinox, Beginning of Summer, Summer Solstice, Beginning of Autumn, Autumn Equinox, Beginning of Winter, and Winter Solstice—were mandatory. Other key planting and harvesting terms were also assessed.

For example, the Grain in Ear festival a month prior tested the completion and survival rate of the final wave of early rice planting.

The examiners and evaluators were all ninth-rank Agricultural Officers, led by Chen Shijie.

These three categories formed the “regular scores.” Those who ranked highest at year-end would be recommended by the Agricultural Office to the Nanyang Prefecture government. All three combined formed the “winter evaluation.”

Sometimes the winter evaluation included further tests depending on circumstances, mainly considering the performance of the entire Nanyang prefecture the previous year. If it outperformed other prefectures and the imperial court allocated sufficient quotas, no additional exams might be necessary.

The following spring brought a temple exam, with questions set by the imperial court to further filter candidates submitted by each prefecture.

Passing the temple exam settled everything.

Thereafter came official appointment, with imperial documents of commission and a fate blessing ceremony at the temple, marking one’s formal entry into the Great Zhou dynasty’s destiny system.

In short, it was a series of linked promotion tasks.

Zhao Xing had undergone such a transfer during the reign of Emperor Jing in his previous life and was quite familiar with the process, although this era was somewhat more challenging.

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It would become much easier once the revival version appeared.

Yet the difficulty had its merits: many things would become permanently unavailable later on.

“With destiny and treasure blessings, passing the promotion should be no problem,” Zhao Xing said confidently, his steps brisk as he headed toward the public fields.

...

The Summer Solstice had passed, and soon the Minor Heat festival would arrive.

In the county’s public fields, early rice was beginning to ripen.

This year’s winter evaluation ability test had skipped the Summer Solstice, so Minor Heat definitely wouldn’t be skipped—otherwise it would be impossible to fill out the full set of winter evaluation test sessions.

At this time, most junior agricultural clerks were already rushing to the public fields, as missing an exam meant missing the chance.

There were many clerks waiting in the grain fields of Guocheng County.

“Everyone’s here for the Minor Heat exam. It’s a bit like back in my past life,” Zhao Xing observed. “It reminds me of competing for popular elective courses at university.”

But it was understandable. Missing even one evaluation, though not necessarily failing, would have a huge impact. No one could guarantee passing without full credits.

Entering the public field area, Zhao Xing immediately felt the heat radiating up and began to sweat. Even using the [Flowing Clouds] spell to shield himself from the sun didn’t fully protect him.

After a while, he spotted Chen Ziyu and Qian Dong, along with Li Chengfeng and Wen Nanxing, all waiting for the exam.

Without exception, they were all panting and sweating by the field’s edge, truly scorched like dogs.

“Though it’s only Minor Heat, the sun is as fierce as the Great Heat. Chief Agricultural Officer Chen really has a twisted sense of humor. Brother, what tricky questions do you think he’ll set this time?” Chen Ziyu asked.

“How would I know? Isn’t your surname Chen?” Zhao Xing replied.

“Same surname, but he’s a transient official from Xishan Prefecture. No relation to me,” Chen Ziyu retorted disdainfully.

“Better to save your energy and just wait,” Qian Dong said weakly, waving his straw hat.

Just then, as everyone wilted under the heat, a sudden shout came from the south.

“Look! What’s that?!”

“The exam questions! The exam questions have arrived!”

“Oh my, it’s actually...”