Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Second Day the Villain Became Emperor~

Wen Qingyun took quite a while to review the memories of this world, but the female attendant dared not urge her, waiting nearby with her head bowed.

“Let’s go see what they’re arguing about today.” Wen Qingyun brushed back her sleeves and stood up, taking the Yishanguan (Imperial Crown) to place on her head. She strode out of the hall and flipped herself directly onto a horse.

Usually, an Emperor would arrive at the Great Hall in a palanquin, but Wen Qingyun found them too slow. Since her days as a princess, she had substituted horses for palanquins within the Forbidden City. Her personal guards were long accustomed to her style; the senior officers followed on horseback while dozens of others followed on foot.

Lifting her robes to take her seat on the Dragon Throne, Wen Qingyun watched the civil and military officials enter the hall. They shouted in unison, “Long live the Empress,” before performing the formal three-kneels and nine-kowtows.

Wen Qingyun remained silent. The officials stayed in a kowtowing position, foreheads pressed low against the ground. Not a single minister dared to move a muscle.

“Rise,” Wen Qingyun finally spoke, leaning back into the throne in a relaxed posture.

“If there are matters to report, speak now!” the female attendant announced loudly.

“Your Majesty, this minister has a petition.” The Minister of Rites was the first to step forward, holding his ivory tablet. “Your Majesty has ascended the throne; the selection of a new era name is a matter of urgency. Furthermore, the late Emperor’s final decree intended to establish a special Imperial Examination (Enke)…”

As the first to speak, the Minister of Rites naturally wouldn’t waste time on trifles. Changing the era name and declaring a general amnesty were the first tasks of any new monarch.

Wen Qingyun’s interest was tepid. She listened patiently to the proposed era names before waving them off. “I don’t like any of them. Pick a new batch that sounds smoother on the tongue.”

“The special Imperial Examination shall be set for the 9th day of the eleventh month. It will be open to all who hold the Juren degree.” Wen Qingyun paused. “Furthermore, starting from next year, all levels of the Imperial Examinations shall allow women to compete.”

“I expect to see female Xiucai and Juren participating in next year’s autumn exams and the following year’s spring exams. If any prefecture fails to produce female candidates, I shall use the heads of the local officials to make up the numbers.”

The Minister of Rites froze, then knelt. “Your Majesty, please reconsider. Common women have never entered private schools; how can they participate in the examinations? Even if they do, they may not necessarily succeed.”

“That is a problem for the Department of Confucian Instruction to solve. The late Emperor provided no small amount of funding to local academies. If they cannot even train a few scholars, then find someone else to run them.”

Wen Qingyun only concerned herself with setting the tasks; she didn’t care about the difficulties of execution.

“Since we are opening a special exam, let the Imperial Academy (Guozijian) expand its enrollment by one hundred students. Any official of the fifth rank or above may recommend talented women to enroll. We shall select the best based on merit. This must be settled before the special exams begin so they may participate together.”

“Minister of Rites, surely you can complete the task I have given you?” Wen Qingyun’s tone was a question, but the underlying command was absolute.

“Your Majesty, please think twice. The Imperial Examination is the foundation of the state. Women as brilliant as Your Majesty are a rare few; most women do not know a single character and never step foot outside their homes…”

Before the Minister could finish, a middle-aged Censor, brainwashed by a distorted form of Neo-Confucianism, rushed forward and knelt with a heavy thud. His voice was filled with a performative plea for the “sake of the people.”

“Guards,” Wen Qingyun’s face darkened. “Drag him out and beat him to death immediately.”

The Imperial Guards moved with lightning speed, gagging the Censor with a strip of cloth and dragging him out. Within breaths, a piercing scream erupted outside the hall, then vanished just as quickly.

“Reporting to Your Majesty, the criminal is dead,” a guard reported, kneeling.

“He’s dead? Strip him of his robes and dump the body outside the palace gates,” Wen Qingyun said casually. Her gaze returned to the still-kneeling Minister of Rites. She rested her hand on the Dragon Throne, a smirk playing on her lips. “Minister, can you complete the task?”

Beads of sweat formed on the Minister’s forehead. “This humble official… I fear I cannot do it alone. I crave the guidance of a Grand Secretary.”

“Very well, I shall grant your wish.” Wen Qingyun’s eyes landed on a striking female official dressed in a blue robe embroidered with a silver pheasant.

“Si Wen, in your capacity as Grand Secretary of the Hall of Martial Valor, you shall assist the Minister of Rites. Once finished, I shall reward you handsomely.” Wen Qingyun’s voice softened significantly.

“This subject obeys the command,” Si Wen stepped out without hesitation.

Si Wen and her sister, Si Yu, had been Wen Qingyun’s personal attendants before her ascension. On the day she took the throne, Wen Qingyun had pushed them into the Grand Secretariat with unyielding authority. The former became the Grand Secretary of the Hall of Martial Valor, and the latter the Grand Secretary of the Hall of Literary Brilliance—both holding the fifth rank.

The position of Grand Secretary in the Great Qian Dynasty was unique. They often held other powerful roles; though officially only fifth rank, one had to be the Emperor’s most trusted confidant to hold the title. Before Wen Qingyun’s reign, there were four Grand Secretaries. Unfortunately, they weren’t very “sensible”—three had been executed for plotting with other princes. Only one, Chu Qi, the Empress’s former teacher, survived, though his actual power had been stripped.

In other words, Si Wen and Si Yu were Wen Qingyun’s only true confidants in the civil court, and the only two female officials present at today’s session. Her other allies were in the military, busy hunting down the remnants of the rebels.

When the Minister of Rites finally returned to his spot, his back was soaked in cold sweat. He hadn’t wanted to agree; pushing such a radical reform to the local levels was nearly impossible. But with the beaten-to-death Censor fresh in his mind, he didn’t dare say “no.” This new Empress held the military, had slaughtered her own brothers before the late Emperor’s coffin, and clearly didn’t care what the court historians wrote about her.

Following the Minister’s lead, the subsequent officials were terrified. They said only what was necessary. As long as Wen Qingyun spoke, they agreed. Satisfied, she dismissed the court after half an hour.

…

After court, Wen Qingyun rode to the Palace of Compassion and Tranquility to greet her mother, the Empress Dowager.

“You went to the morning court today?” the Empress Dowager asked, seated on a couch with a clear smile on her face.

“Yes. I killed a troublesome Censor,” Wen Qingyun sat on the other side. “Mother, do you think my plan will work?”

“The timeline is tight, but unless the common people are stirred up by the great clans, they will accept the new policy over time,” the Empress Dowager paused. “Whether it can be implemented depends on your control over the local officials.”

“I plan to send the Brocade Guards to inspect the provinces. Anyone who feigns compliance while disobeying will be dismissed and investigated for resisting an Imperial Decree. I didn’t ask for the number of female candidates to match the males—only that there be at least one,” Wen Qingyun said. She didn’t think her request was excessive at all.

She was the Emperor now; what was so strange about selecting a few female officials? Truly smart people should seize this chance to get their talented daughters into the Imperial Academy.

“The civil officials fancy themselves as ‘pure currents.’ Using only military force to suppress them is not a long-term solution. Do not push them too far,” the Empress Dowager warned.

“Among them, there will be those who are sensible. Do not worry, Mother. In a few days, I will give them something to look forward to.”

The Empress Dowager was born into a military family, which was the primary reason Wen Qingyun had been able to seize power. To the Empress Dowager’s clan, Wen Qingyun was their blood relative; her being on the throne was better for them than anyone else.

…

The world never lacks smart people. While the decree was being sent across the country, some were already finding ways to stand out.

Chu Xin was one of them. She suppressed the excitement in her heart as she recalled the Imperial Bulletin she had seen while sneaking out. The moment her father returned from court, she brought tea and snacks to his study.

“Father, is the Empress truly going to select female officials?” Chu Xin went straight to the point. “I wish to enroll in the Imperial Academy.”

“No,” her father rejected her immediately. “Our family cannot have anyone else in the service besides me.”

“Are you worried the Empress will take her anger out on me?” Chu Xin’s expression didn’t change. “Father, you worry too much. The Empress is decisive and cares little for empty reputation. If she truly intended to punish you for your past correspondence with the third prince, our entire family would have been executed already. Since she kept you as a Grand Secretary, she is no longer displeased.”

Chu Xin was the youngest daughter. Brilliant from birth, she was talented in poetry, Confucian classics, and political essays. Looking at his daughter, her father remained silent, his brow furrowed.

“Father, the Empress is reforming the exam to recruit female officials to strengthen her grip on the court. If she rewards me, it won’t hurt the family. If my brothers entered the service, your fear might be justified, but since it is a daughter, you needn’t worry.”

Her father’s resolve began to waver. Other officials who weren’t involved in the rebellion were already moving to get their female relatives into the Academy. There were many vacancies in the court due to the purge; many suspected the Empress had cleared those spots specifically for the new female scholars.

“Father, your father was in the Secretariat, and you are in the Secretariat. If I can enter as well, the Chu name will be immortalized in history.”

Chu Xin knew what her father wanted—he had never let go of power or family glory. “I shall study. Please decide quickly, Father. If the spots fill up, the Empress may end the enrollment early.”

After she left, her father sighed and called for his two sons to hear their opinions. The eldest son supported her, seeing it as a path for the family’s revitalization, while the second son, more traditional, worried about her reputation and marriage prospects.

“Do you think the Empress cares about the separation of the sexes?” the eldest son snapped at his brother. “Look at the big picture. There are female generals in the army, and the Grand Secretaries are women. Do you think they care?”

Her father finally stroked his beard. “Elder, tomorrow you shall accompany Xin’er. Take my personal letter to the Imperial Academy to register her.”

Similar scenes played out in the studies of many high-ranking officials. By early the tenth month, the expansion plan was finalized by Si Wen and the Minister of Rites. A list of one hundred female students was placed on the Empress’s desk.

Wen Qingyun sipped her tea, her eyes scanning the names until they stopped on Chu Xin.

Daughter of Grand Secretary Chu, age seventeen, excellent in poetry and essays, graded ‘A’ in the entrance assessment.

Wen Qingyun took her vermilion brush and circled the name.

“How are the preparations for the special exam?” she asked.

“Your Majesty, the halls are ready. We have separated the male and female sections and arranged for female soldiers to conduct the searches. Coal, blankets, and candles are all prepared,” Si Wen reported.

Usually, exams were held in the warmth of March. In the cold of November, without heating, half the candidates would freeze to death before the results were even posted.

“You decide the first two rounds of questions,” Wen Qingyun leaned her chin on her hand, pushing the files aside. “For the political essay… let the topic be: ‘The Viability of Women as Government Officials’.”

“I shall go to the Imperial Academy after lunch to see how they are faring.”

Meanwhile, the Imperial Academy didn’t know the boss was coming. Under the tacit approval of the Chancellor, the instructors were currently trying to “set the rules” for the new female students, intending to teach them only the most basic knowledge rather than the advanced curriculum needed to pass the upcoming exams. They were planning a subtle protest against the Empress’s decree.