Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 40

Chapter 40: The Fourth Day the Villain Became Emperor~

The examiners for the Palace Examination had only one day to grade the papers. In principle, the selected essays had to be approved by the Grand Secretaries of the Inner Cabinet before being presented to Wen Qingyun.

However, there were currently only three Grand Secretaries: two were serving as assistant examiners, and the third was Chu Xin’s father, who held the title in name only. Thus, this step was skipped. On the third morning after the exam, the ten approved papers were placed directly on the Imperial Desk.

The topic Wen Qingyun had chosen—land annexation—was inherently more difficult for female candidates. Due to social constraints, they were rarely allowed to travel far from home, making the plight of the peasantry and the mechanics of land seizures feel abstract and distant.

Yet, this was precisely the kind of challenge they would face once in office. Promoting women was easy for Wen Qingyun, but whether these women could hold their ground and wrest power from a sea of predatory male officials depended entirely on their own capabilities.

A smile gradually formed on Wen Qingyun’s lips when she saw two female candidates among the top ten. She picked up the first one.

Wen Qingyun had previously only read the first third of Chu Xin’s essay. As she read it word by word now, her smile widened. Chu Xin’s writing was sharp and full of “spirit,” possessing a “fearlessness of being crushed to powder” quality. This was exactly what Wen Qingyun wanted to see. A pioneer without a firm conviction is destined to be cannon fodder.

Setting that aside, she picked up the paper signed by Bai Siyang. Bai’s handwriting was more reserved. Instead of just focusing on solutions, she spent more time analyzing the root causes of annexation throughout history, citing detailed examples from the previous dynasty. Only in the final third did she propose solutions, frankly admitting her limited understanding of the commoners’ lives and suggesting that policies must be adapted to local conditions.

Bai Siyang appeared to be a pragmatist. While she lacked Chu Xin’s aggressive edge, her essay proved she was incredibly well-read with a vast reservoir of knowledge.

Looking at the other eight papers, Wen Qingyun found them all commendable but uninspired. Chu Xin’s essay actually had the most “character” and unique insight among them.

“Who recommended Bai Siyang to the Imperial Academy?” Wen Qingyun asked.

“Reporting to Your Majesty, it was Princess Herui,” Si Wen replied, bowing.

“Herui?” Wen Qingyun blinked. That was Prince Lian’s daughter. She remembered Herui as someone who indulged in pleasure and ignored politics.

“It was her. I investigated Bai Siyang’s background,” Si Wen continued. “Ten years ago, Princess Herui and her husband were on an outing when she bought Bai Siyang as a maid from a wealthy household. Bai was the illegitimate daughter of that household’s steward. She was to be given as a concubine to the master’s young son, but she refused to go quietly. The commotion caught the Princess’s attention.”

Wen Qingyun nodded. “How old is she?”

“Twenty-seven, unmarried. She is one of the female managers in the Princess’s manor.”

Prince Lian held a grudge against the Jiangnan clans. As his only daughter, Herui likely felt the same. With this connection, Bai Siyang was definitely a piece that could be moved on the board.

After a moment of thought, Wen Qingyun wrote a “1” on Chu Xin’s paper and a “2” on Bai Siyang’s. She then picked two other papers for third and fourth place. The rest of the rankings were handed over to the Si sisters to finalize with the Minister of Rites.

When the Minister of Rites learned that the Zhuangyuan (First Place) and Bangyan (Second Place) were Chu Xin and Bai Siyang, he wasn’t surprised. Instead, he let out a sigh of relief. The list was finalized, the Imperial Seal was pressed, and the results of the special Enke exam were set in stone.

…

The Chuanlu Ceremony (the formal announcement of results) was held on the 16th of December. Wen Qingyun arrived at the Hall of Royal Pole in full state.

“The first name of the first class: Chu Xin, awarded Zhuangyuan!” the herald announced.

Chu Xin, now dressed in the scarlet robes of a top scholar, felt her heart hammer against her ribs. Despite knowing her rank since yesterday, hearing it proclaimed before the assembled civil and military officials made her hands tremble.

“This subject, Chu Xin, greets Your Majesty.” She prostrated herself, her head low.

“Rise.” Wen Qingyun studied her. The scarlet scholar robes suited her better than the plain student uniform, making her look upright and radiant. “I have read your essay. You seem to have many ideas regarding land annexation?”

“The land is the foundation of the state and the root of the people,” Chu Xin replied firmly. “Your Majesty grants land to the people so they may have a livelihood, not so the great clans can plunder it for their own greed…”

Wen Qingyun listened with interest. Usually, top scholars went to the Hanlin Academy for years of “polishing” before being sent to the ministries. But Wen Qingyun hated rules.

“Chu Xin, would you rather enter the Hanlin Academy as a Compiler, or would you rather work in the Ministry of Revenue?”

“I wish to enter the Ministry of Revenue to share Your Majesty’s burdens,” Chu Xin chose without hesitation.

“Very well. I appoint you as a Secretary (Zhushi) in the Zhejiang Bureau of the Ministry of Revenue.”

A Secretary was a rank-six official. While not “high-ranking” in the capital, it was a starting point most men spent a lifetime trying to reach. Bai Siyang and the third-place male scholar were also given the choice and both opted for direct entry into the ministries. They were assigned to different bureaus, starting as Secretaries alongside Chu Xin.

The Ministers of Personnel and Revenue exchanged several meaningful glances but remained silent. Better to have three rank-six girls than to have the Empress force them in as high-ranking Directors, they reasoned.

…

As the New Year approached, Wen Qingyun chose “Tian Shou” (Heaven-Bestowed) as her era name. On the first day of the lunar year, it officially became the First Year of Tian Shou.

While the commoners were usually required to mourn the late Emperor for three years, Wen Qingyun—in an act of “filial piety”—declared a general amnesty and shortened the mourning period to one year for the public to win their hearts.

By the end of the first month, the thirteen female graduates of the Enke had been assigned. Most were sent to local posts, but Chu Xin and Bai Siyang were already at their desks in the Ministry of Revenue, auditing land records.

Chu Xin was a “workaholic,” arriving early and leaving late. Since her father had been a Vice Minister of Revenue, no one dared to openly harass her. Bai Siyang, backed by the “Princess Herui” label, was similarly well-treated.

This lack of drama disappointed the ministers who were waiting for the women to fail. They began to whisper that the Empress had “rigged” the exam topic and assignments specifically to favor these two. These whispers were promptly recorded by the Brocade Guards and sent to Wen Qingyun.

“So the ministers have the energy to gossip? It seems they are too idle,” Wen Qingyun mused. She summoned the Minister of Personnel and his two Vice Ministers.

The three elderly men arrived at the palace, treading carefully.

“I feel that the three-year cycle for evaluating local officials is too long,” Wen Qingyun said lazily, leaning her chin on her hand. “If an official is ‘eating without working,’ he enjoys three years of luxury while the people suffer.”

“Does Your Majesty mean to change the evaluation cycle to every two years?” the Minister of Personnel asked, his heart leaping into his throat.

“Yes. Just as you suggested, Minister—two years it is,” Wen Qingyun said, pinning the blame for the change squarely on him.

The Minister’s face paled. He wanted to say he was only guessing her intent, not suggesting it! But he could only swallow his tears and accept the decree.

“And you,” Wen Qingyun turned to the Vice Minister. “Don’t you think the six-year cycle for evaluating capital officials is also a bit long?”

“Five years… perhaps five years is better?” the Vice Minister stammered.

“Five years is still too long. I don’t know how many ‘five years’ I have on this throne,” Wen Qingyun sighed.

“Your Majesty is in your prime!” the officials shouted in terror.

“Fine, then make it three years for everyone. I want a new evaluation system within one month: high efficiency, less red tape, and a system of collective responsibility. Can you do it?”

The Minister of Personnel felt cold sweat in the dead of winter. “This subject… will do his utmost.”

“I expect results,” Wen Qingyun smiled. “If this new system works, your names will surely be immortalized in history.”

The promise of historical fame worked like a charm on the scholars. The Minister’s eyes changed instantly. If he was going to risk his neck anyway, why not aim for immortality? He began to flatter the Empress with such eloquence that even she felt a bit buoyed.

…

After they left, the Vice Ministers voiced their concerns. “Minister, are we really going to offend every official in the empire with this?”

“This is the Empress’s task,” the Minister replied, his face grim. “She is not yet twenty; she doesn’t realize how hard it is to push new policies. Our only job is to make sure the rules satisfy her. Whether they can actually be implemented… that is a different matter.”

Meanwhile, Wen Qingyun explained her logic to the Empress Dowager.

“You promised him a promotion and historical fame?” the Dowager asked.

“I want them to work hard, so I must offer a ‘big pie’,” Wen Qingyun said, sipping soup. “The officials in the Ministry of Personnel are clever. If I give them a month, they’ll produce a plan that ‘changes the soup but not the medicine’—it will look pretty but do little. But the shortened cycle will be set in stone.”

She smirked. “I want the civil officials to see that those who are ‘obedient’ get rewarded. Officials love internal strife. If I reward the Minister of Personnel, the others will be jealous. They will start picking holes in his new system to bring him down. Then, I will simply reward the people who find the mistakes. Eventually, the system will be perfect, and I will have moved the conflict from ‘Empress vs. Officials’ to ‘Officials vs. Officials.’ I shall simply sit back and reap the benefits.”

And in the meantime, their focus would be entirely off the female candidates, allowing the new educational reforms to take root.