Three rounds of hardship turn you into a ghost; two characters of fame lead men astray.
Ten years at a cold window, and no one hears of you; one success, and the whole world knows your name.
The imperial examinations left an indelible mark on the bureaucratic selection system of feudal society.
Every three years, the examinations were held to select officials. Scholars from across the land traveled from north and south, went through round after round of screening—the provincial and academy examinations, then the palace examination—and fought their way through the ranks to become ministers and officials.
The Autumn Examination was the provincial examination, held at the Examination Halls in each province. It lasted three days per round, with three rounds over a total of nine days.
For nine days, each candidate in the Examination Hall was assigned a tiny cubicle, where he ate and slept. He hung a curtain at the entrance and set up a partition, wrote eight-legged essays during the day, and slept and cooked over a fire at night...
Now the Examination Hall in Capital City was opening for the examinations. On the night before the first day, three flags—red, blue, and black—were planted inside.
There was a story behind those flags, too. The examinations selected talent for the country, so candidates were expected to be upright, honorable, and above reproach. There was no room for fraud or deceit. Planting the flags was a way to ask the gods of heaven and earth to watch over the proceedings.
The red flag invited the gods and spirits of heaven and earth; the blue flag invited the ancestors of the candidates' families; and the black flag invited the wronged spirits and creditors of every household, so that those seeking justice could have it, and those seeking revenge could take it.
If the candidates in the Examination Hall were all honest and aboveboard, then there was nothing to worry about. But if any had a guilty conscience or had committed some wicked deed, then the question was: weren't they afraid the ghosts would come looking for them?
Though this was a feudal superstition, there was one thing...
The Examination Hall was haunted every year.
No one could explain why, but every year during the Autumn Examination, people died in the Examination Hall. Quite a few died in bizarre ways. But once the corpses were brought out, they still had to be stitched up.
The Autumn Examination was also the time of year when the most corpse stitchers died.
Over the past few days, whenever Lin Shou went out, he saw the Heavenly Cripples and Earthly Maimed from the other Corpse-Stitching Shops drinking. They looked ready to spend every last coin before they died, treating themselves to one final taste of life.
"Little Nine, have you spent all your money yet? If not, your big brother here can help you spend it. I'm telling you, the rice aroma liquor from Tongxian Old Cellar has quite a kick. How about your big brother joining you for a couple of cups?"
"Bah! You shameless old Eighth, you've spent all your own money and now you've got your eye on Little Nine's. Haven't you had enough of that liquor?"
"Tsk, I'm just teaching him how to enjoy himself. We could be here today and gone tomorrow. If you hold on to those silver coins, you'll only leave them behind when you're buried. A young lad from Shangyang Academy recited a poem to me the other day: 'When life is at its height, you must—you must... must what was it?' I've forgotten the rest. Anyway, if you've got money, spend it while you can, or you might die before you get the chance."
"That's because you're short-lived. Little Nine's got plenty of life ahead of him. Back when everyone sent to the Bureau of Corpse Management died, Little Nine was the only one who came back alive. He's still got many years left."
"Tsk, you're so hidebound. The only reason we can't go to the Eight Great Alleys is that sickness broke out there a while back. Otherwise, your big brother here would take Little Nine to get a taste of the pleasures of the flesh. Men in our line of work are bound to have a hard time finding wives later, but it's no good dying without ever having touched a girl."
"You're an old man and still have no shame. Little Nine, don't listen to his crooked reasoning. I'm telling you, save your money carefully. Save up for a year, then run away. Leave Capital City, find some remote place, marry a woman, and settle down."
"Oh, give it a rest. Little Nine's not the brightest to begin with. If someone tricks him out of his money, they'll have him hauled off to dig coal in the mountains. He's safer sticking with us old brothers."
"You old coot, you're just jealous of Little Nine's youth and good health. What girl wouldn't like a fine young man like him? And it's not just some distant girl, either. Look at Little Xi Shi from the Tofu Shop—she brings Little Nine tofu every day. I'd say there's something there."
"That Little Xi Shi has trampled the threshold nearly flat, coming over every day to see the man she wants as her sweetheart. She's got rich tycoons and talented scholars who can recite poetry and compose couplets after her. Why would she fancy someone like us, who does dirty work? Little Nine, your big brother here is telling you: women are the best at deceiving people, and beautiful women are especially hard to read. You're not quick-witted enough to handle her, so stop thinking about it before you get yourself into trouble."
"Heh, Eighth Master, you're a coward. The moment someone mentions women, you lose your nerve. Little Nine, don't listen to this old bachelor's nonsense. I think Little Xi Shi's pretty good, and she's definitely interested in you. Besides, so what if she isn't? When you've saved enough money to run away, just go over at night, throw her over your shoulder, and carry her out of the city. Once you're in the wilderness, she won't know her way around. Even if she doesn't like you, she'll come around. The two of you can settle down together afterward."
"Bah! Seventh Master, you shameless old thing! You call me shameless, but can't you teach Little Nine something decent? You're telling him to ruin a girl—have you no shame?"
The Seventh Master and Eighth Master of Corpse-Stitching Shops No. 7 and No. 8 argued and traded barbs every day. Whenever they met, they spat insults at each other.
Lin Shou found it amusing to watch the two little old men bicker every day. He brought out two jars of liquor he had bought in advance and said with a grin,
"Eighth Master, this is the rice aroma liquor you wanted. I guessed your taste right, didn't I?"
Lin Shou had bought the old man's liquor long ago.
"Oh, my! Little Nine, you really know your big brother!"
Eighth Master's eyes lit up as he took the jar and gave it a good sniff.
"Child, you've gone and spent money again."
Seventh Master chided him, but his eyes were just as hungry for the liquor.
"Ah, I've been helping people with funerals and burials these past couple of days, and the families gave me quite a few silver coins. Since you gentlemen enjoy a drink, I thought we might as well have some fun."
Lin Shou gave a simple, unbothered smile. Everyone joined in the revelry, and they shared the fine liquor.
A clerk from the Bureau of Corpse Management stopped by. After Lin Shou invited him several times, he too was pulled into the group for a drink. Soon the place was full of laughter and chatter, a rare bit of liveliness.
The Corpse-Stitching Shops in Capital City had been open for years, and corpse stitchers had come and gone in droves. They were all mourners with no tomorrow. Forget chatting or making friends; every day, they stitched corpses, slept, or sprawled outside teahouses listening to storytellers as they waited to die. They rarely interacted, each living out a life of gloom and dejection.
But ever since that little fool, Lin Shou, arrived at No. 9 Corpse-Stitching Shop,
he had always brought them snacks and nuts to share. Sometimes he invited them to a teahouse to listen to stories. Recently, he had even set up a little table outside the shop, bought food, and often asked them to come over for a meal and a drink. Gradually, they had all grown familiar with one another.
Seventh Master and Eighth Master had been corpse stitchers for almost a year, yet before this, they had never exchanged a word when they met. After gathering two or three times these past few months, they had become familiar enough to bicker constantly.
These corpse stitchers had all one foot in the coffin, waiting to die. They had no children, no family or friends, and seemed destined to grow old alone. Yet for a time, thanks to Lin Shou, they felt that life had some flavor to it again.
The clerks from the Bureau of Corpse Management had always treated corpse stitchers coldly and had little to do with them beyond official business. It wasn't that they liked or disliked them; most people probably had little interest in dealing with a group of people who spent all day passively waiting to die.
But over the past few months, they had come to think that the little fool at Shop No. 9 was a pretty decent fellow. Unlike the other corpse stitchers, he didn't seem like an ill omen. He had even raised flowers and plants in the shop and added decorations, making the place feel full of life.
These minor officials ran themselves ragged on official business every day, but Lin Shou always had tea ready for them when they visited Shop No. 9. Little by little, the clerks from the Bureau of Corpse Management had grown familiar with him, too.
People who had once been like scattered sand, unrelated to one another, were now gathering around Lin Shou and making connections.
The world around them had once been utterly lifeless, but Lin Shou's quiet, everyday comings and goings had brought it back to life.
In ancient times, Mencius's mother moved three times; those near vermilion became red, and those near ink became black. Xunzi once said: "Pong grass growing among hemp stands straight without support; white sand in black mud turns black along with it."
The ancients were always stressing how much a person's surroundings mattered, and how important it was to live in a good environment.
But in Lin Shou's view, ordinary people drifted with the tide, while the exceptional didn't blame the times. They ought to have the power to change heaven and earth: muddy waters could run clear because of them, and dark clouds could part to reveal the sun.
Before you continue