Chapter 106: The Zhejiang Academic Fraud Scandal

As Zhu Hao finished speaking, Qin Hui responded with a respectful expression, “Your Highness, there is no doubt—I have indeed never met Your Highness before. This is my first time seeing you!”

Pausing briefly, Qin Hui noticed the puzzled look on Zhu Hao’s face and hastened to explain, “Your Highness asked how I knew your identity. It was merely my analysis and conjecture. The moment Your Highness entered the room, I noticed your noble bearing—it was clear you were no ordinary person. I also detected the scent of palace perfume on the attendants following you. Though I am unlearned, I know such perfume is commonly used by palace eunuchs. From this, I understood you must be from the imperial palace. Moreover, among those of your age, only Your Highness would dare to leave the palace with just one attendant, as others lack such boldness. Thus, I ventured to guess that you are indeed Prince Xin! I did not expect my guess to be correct.”

Hearing this, Zhu Hao thought to himself, “This must be the skill of discerning the intentions of one’s superior, an innate attribute. Truly extraordinary—to recognize my identity at first sight. This Qin Hui is certainly no ordinary third-rank talent.”

Zhu Hao marveled silently, then spoke again. “Qin Shun, please rise. Just now, I was downstairs when the innkeeper mistook me for someone seeking a written petition. What is this about a 'petition'?”

Qin Hui replied, “Thank you, Your Highness,” as he rose respectfully, then answered, “This matter is quite lengthy, so please bear with me. I was originally a scholar from Jiangning, come to the capital to file a complaint. However, my family is poor, and I brought only limited funds. Upon arriving, I soon exhausted my money and had no choice but to sell calligraphy to earn a living. To my surprise, many people came to buy my writing. I never imagined so many in the capital would appreciate my calligraphy. Since then, many have come daily to request inscriptions. At first, I sold my writing merely to survive, but now the constant demands are quite overwhelming.”

Zhu Hao nodded inwardly, thinking, “This must be the skill effect of calligraphy.” Suddenly, he recalled Qin Hui’s earlier words about filing a complaint: “A complaint? What grievance could this man with the ‘wrongful conviction’ skill possibly have? Could he be seeking justice through me by delivering a petition?”

With this in mind, Zhu Hao asked, “You came to the capital to file a complaint? What matter is it? Whom do you accuse? Why not present your case to the Three Judicial Offices? Why instead seek an audience with me at the palace gate? You must understand, though I am a prince, I cannot interfere in court affairs.”

Zhu Hao’s words clearly conveyed that, whatever grievance Qin Hui had, he could not assist. It was not out of coldness but necessity; if he helped Qin Hui, the common people might all flood the palace gates with petitions, making his duties impossible to manage. Moreover, such interference would violate court protocol and damage his reputation among the populace. Thus, he sought to nip this matter in the bud.

Hearing this, Qin Hui quickly knelt and explained, “Your Highness, you misunderstand. Upon arriving in the capital, I heard of Your Highness’s act of shooting the Minister of Works, Cui Shi, and learned of your righteous character. That is why I delivered the petition—as a sincere gesture of allegiance—not to ask you to seek justice on my behalf.”

Realizing his mistake, Zhu Hao smiled and said, “Today I traveled in plain clothes, so please do not kneel so readily. Rise and speak. Since you came to seek justice, why did you not submit your complaint to the Three Judicial Offices? Why instead place your hope in me?”

Qin Hui replied quickly, “I was entrusted by twenty-three fellow scholars from my hometown to seek justice together. Even if not for myself, I understand the duty of loyalty when entrusted by others. However, over the past half month, I have submitted dozens of petitions to the Three Judicial Offices, yet no one dared to take up our case. This left me disheartened and losing faith in pursuing justice. I had intended to leave the capital and return home to study quietly. Then I heard of Your Highness’s act against Minister Cui Shi and felt drawn to you. Thus, I have remained in the capital, making a living through calligraphy.”

Zhu Hao listened with quiet astonishment, wondering, “What kind of case is this that the Three Judicial Offices dare not touch? Could it involve powerful officials?”

Curious, Zhu Hao feigned anger. “How outrageous! The Three Judicial Offices dare act so lawlessly! Qin Shun, tell me about your case. I want to know why none will take it up. Does it concern nobles or princes?”

Qin Hui shuddered at Zhu Hao’s stern tone but, sensing the prince’s interest, eagerly began, “I am a scholar from Zhejiang who took this year’s provincial exam but, to my shame, failed to place. This would be due to my own lack of skill, except that the top scorer was Cheng Sanjin, the son of the wealthy merchant Cheng Baiwan, whom I know well. He is a profligate and unlearned playboy. I cannot believe he topped the exam. I am convinced there was cheating.”

Pausing, Qin Hui continued with a sorrowful tone, “Had I simply failed due to my own shortcomings, I would not be disheartened. I could study harder for the next exam. But if cheating occurred, no matter how hard I try, I cannot succeed. Thus, with twenty-three fellow scholars, we petitioned the court to investigate and punish cheating, to restore the integrity of the Zhejiang exams. But upon arrival, I found no one in this great capital willing to support our cause.”

Zhu Hao mused inwardly, “This system truly implants memories skillfully—now producing a cheating scandal in the Zhejiang provincial exam!”

At this, Zhu Hao believed Qin Hui completely, for he was well versed in Ming history and knew such a scandal had indeed occurred. Even without historical records, a scholar of Qin Hui’s caliber would surely have placed if not for foul play.

Though convinced, Zhu Hao remained cautious as a prince and asked, “Qin Shun, if you claim cheating occurred, do you have any proof?”

Qin Hui’s face brightened briefly at this, but then darkened with unease. “Your Highness, I have no proof to present.”

Zhu Hao’s expression hardened and he scoffed, “Qin Shun, how dare you accuse the imperial examination without evidence! Know that under Ming law, this is an unpardonable crime!”

Startled, Qin Hui knelt again, trembling. “Your Highness, though I have no evidence, I do have a method to prove cheating occurred in the Zhejiang exams.”

Zhu Hao’s suspicions were confirmed—Qin Hui’s claims were true—but as a prince, he had to scold him for lacking proof. Unexpectedly, Qin Hui’s mention of a way to demonstrate cheating was a welcome surprise.

Fixing a stern gaze on the cringing Qin Hui, Zhu Hao demanded, “Tell me, what method do you have to prove cheating occurred in the Zhejiang exam?”

Qin Hui replied quickly, “Your Highness, it is simple. Gather all the candidates who took the Zhejiang exam and have them retake it under supervision by officials from outside Zhejiang. The results will not only prove cheating occurred but reveal exactly which candidates were involved.”

Zhu Hao understood that Qin Hui’s suggestion was indeed clever. Yet, fully aware of the Ming system’s realities, he knew such a plan was impractical under existing laws and procedures.