Chapter 4
In the year 3400, in the province of Kokai, in the village of Hosen, there lived a man named Takumi Kanemoto, who had dedicated his entire life to the study of Confucian classics in the hope of passing the imperial examination and becoming a government official. He was considered one of the best students in his region and had the support of his family and teachers. However, fate played a cruel trick on him. On the day of the exam, he made a fatal mistake when writing one of the characters for the essay he had to submit. Instead of writing “ren” (仁), which means benevolence, he wrote “ren” (刃), which means blade. This error completely changed the meaning of his text and made it appear violent and rebellious. The examiners failed to notice the mistake and marked it as a failure.
“The Imperial Examination”
Atlas of the Known World
Great Alim, Ahmed Aljinn
The day of the Imperial Examinations had arrived, and the stage was set at the central administrative building of the Outer Walls. Ritsu, along with the other candidates, stood before its imposing entrance. Its architecture was reminiscent of an ancient Buddhist shrine, with an aura of solemnity that imposed itself on all who approached.
The building was surrounded by high walls protected with the mysterious Reiki Stones. These stones, imbued with spiritual energy, created a force field that encircled the place. This esoteric veil gave the building a whitish aura, as if it were enveloped in the mist of an ancient enchantment.
At the entrance, two towering Three-Legged Frog Guards stood as guardians of the entry to the destiny of the empire’s future leaders. Candidates were subjected to rigorous scrutiny before entering. First, the guards performed a visual inspection to ensure that no student attempted to carry prohibited items for cheating.
But the true test of security was in the swift and precise series of strikes that the guards executed on the candidates’ reiki points. It was a precautionary measure to block the flow of reiki from those who might have advanced knowledge of its control.
Officially, the examination was based on meritocracy, and control of reiki had no place in that process. It was not uncommon for some unfortunate souls to lose consciousness under the pressure of those blows and, with it, the opportunity to take the exam. Others passed without problems, with expressions of relief or pride.
Ritsu remained calm, taking deep breaths and focusing inward.
He knew he could do it.
His turn came, and the guards subjected him to the same scrutiny.
“Name,” demanded one of them, a burly and bald man with a scar on his cheek.
“Ritsu Akechi,” he replied without hesitation.
The guard consulted a dirty, crumpled sheet of paper, where the names of the enrolled were listed. With a piece of charcoal, he crossed out Ritsu’s name and gestured for him to come closer.
“Come here,” he ordered in a tone that brooked no disobedience.
Ritsu obeyed and positioned himself in front of the guard. He passed his hands along Ritsu’s sides, searching for any suspicious objects or hidden weapons. He found nothing.
“Alright, kid,” said the guard, smiling maliciously. “Now comes the fun part. You’re going to feel a bit dizzy, but don’t worry, it’s normal.”
He braced himself for the strike.
He knew it would hurt, but he couldn’t show weakness.
He had to prove he was worthy of entering the examination.
The bald guard struck him with his fingers at the reiki points on his chest, abdomen, and temples. Ritsu felt a wave of pain coursing through his body as if needles were being jabbed into his veins. His vision blurred, and his legs wobbled.
But he resisted.
He didn’t let himself fall to the ground.
He kept his head high and his gaze steady.
The guard seemed surprised by his reaction.
“Well, well. Looks like we’ve got a brave one here,” he commented with irony. “Congratulations then. You’ve passed the control. You may enter the examination.”
Ritsu nodded with a grimace of determination and crossed the threshold without looking back. The hallway that opened before him was a dark maw that swallowed him whole, a path of no return toward the destiny he had chosen. Each step he took was a battle against doubt, and although his legs wavered, he did not allow himself to falter.
The building’s corridors were labyrinthine and gloomy, barely lit by faint paper lanterns that hung from the ceiling like dying fireflies. Their gleams cast dancing shadows on the walls, where ancient characters and imperial symbols were drawn. Ritsu moved through those corridors like a ghost.
He encountered no one, only the echo of his own steps.
Finally, he arrived at an immense room that opened before him like an abyss. It was the examination hall, the place where his future would be decided. On the floor, lengthy tatami mats spread out like carpets, and on them sat numerous individuals in the lotus position. These were the other candidates, his rivals in this trial by fire.
Dozens of diverse faces looked at him with curiosity, suspicion, or indifference. There were young people his own age with anxious or confident expressions, and elders whose wrinkles spoke of decades of experience and wisdom.
Some of these men had been preparing for the exam for years, dedicating their lives to study and meditation. Others were newcomers, driven by ambition or necessity. Each one was a story, a life, a dream waiting to be fulfilled or crushed.
Ritsu felt a knot in his stomach as he looked around, taking stock of the other contenders. He knew that only a few would pass the exam, and most would be forgotten. The atmosphere was charged with tension, and the silence weighed in the air like a tombstone. No one spoke; everyone seemed to be reviewing the most important aspects of their studies in their minds.
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Suddenly, he felt presences that filled the atmosphere with tension and a sense of threat. With a sigh, Ritsu turned his head as best he could. He saw a couple of Shinsa-onna on the walls, watching him.
They were mysterious and elegant figures, dressed in traditional, finely detailed robes of bright colors and intricate embroidery. Their faces were masked white, hiding their features behind a layer of flawless makeup. They were the guardians of the exam’s integrity, charged with ensuring honesty and detecting any hint of cheating.
Those women remained motionless, their heads turned toward him, as if they could read his soul for any trace of deceit. The anxiety they caused him was evident, a sinister echo that seemed to resonate in Ritsu’s heart, leaving his pulse erratic and his mind restless.
He had heard stories about the Shinsa-onna, and their mere presence inspired fear. These women were capable of detecting any attempt at cheating with a skill that bordered on supernatural. They used fine needles to inject their reiki, the spiritual energy, into students who ventured down the path of dishonesty. The result was chilling: the offender’s body convulsed and fell into a deep stupor from which they would only awaken after the exam ended.
Ritsu shuddered as he remembered the stories he had heard about that punishment. He had no intention of cheating, but he was not sure he could answer all the exam questions either.
He had studied hard, but he did not know if it would be enough.
He sat on one of the empty tatamis near the wall opposite the entrance. He placed his hands on his knees and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. He took a deep breath and focused. His body filled with a warm, comforting sensation that gave him strength and confidence.
Reopening his eyes, he saw a low table in front of him, on which there were some rolled-up scrolls and a brush.
Those were the materials for the exam.
Ritsu carefully picked them up and placed them on his lap, waiting for the test to begin.
In an instant, an imperious voice cut through the hall’s air, tearing the silence with its unbreakable authority.
“Count yourselves, scum!” shouted the man who stood on an elevated platform at the end of the room. “You are a hundred and fifty-eight wretched souls who have come to beg for a chance! A hundred of you were born within the Inner Walls, where life is easy, and luxury corrupts you. Fifty of you have come out of the outer trash heap, where misery and violence are your only law. And eight of you are mere peasants from the nearby dung heaps, who can barely read and write properly.” He paused dramatically, letting his words sink in among those present. “But do not worry, because I will teach you what true pain is. I am Juro Sugiyama, your senior examiner, and I will have no mercy on any of you! Pay attention, because I will not repeat anything.”
Ritsu raised his head with fear and curiosity, trying to see the man who had so cruelly insulted them. He was an elderly man with a severe appearance, with gray hair tied in a ponytail and a pointed beard. His eyes were two slits that oozed contempt and arrogance. He wore a black robe with golden embroidery, indicating his high rank within the imperial bureaucracy. Silent and watchful as shadows, two Shinsa-onna flanked him at his side.
“Do not harbor any illusions,” he continued. “Most of you will not pass this test. Some of you will give up in the attempt. Others will go mad or lose the will to live. Only a few of you will overcome the obstacles that the Imperial Court has prepared for you. So please do not waste my precious time. I am not like the lenient examiners from last year. My task is clear: to separate the wheat from the chaff. Those who fail the exam will be excluded for life, regardless of whether they have cheated or broken the rules. The sentence will be unrelenting. If you do not pass, you will be banned for all eternity.”
His words fell like a cold bucket of water over the candidates, who looked at each other with expressions of fear and despair.
What kind of test was this? He had never heard of such an exam! To be banned for life...
The thought twisted in Ritsu’s mind like a venomous snake, injecting poison of anguish into every corner of his being.
The consequences were clear: if they failed, their dreams would be shattered, and their lives marked by ruin.
The idea of being forever excluded from the path they had chosen seemed as unbearable as an iron chain around the neck. He felt a cold sweat running down his back.
He didn’t understand anything.
What was the point of all this?
Then he saw it.
One of the candidates stood up from his seat, with an expression of desperation on his face. His luxurious clothing and gold ornaments made it clear that he belonged to the elite of the Inner Walls. With blonde hair and green eyes, Ritsu recognized him as one of those who had mocked him when he entered the room.
The young man headed towards the platform, staggering and screaming.
“This is not fair!” he exclaimed. “This is not an exam! This is torture! You can’t do this! You can’t!”
Sugiyama looked at him with indifference, not moving from his spot.
“What’s the matter, boy?” he asked mockingly. “Didn’t you study your whole life for this? Did you expect another corrupt examiner to give you a free pass because you’re from the Inner Walls?”
The young man stopped a few meters from the platform, panting and sweating.
“No... it’s not like that...” he stammered. “It’s just that... it’s just that...”
“What is it?” insisted Sugiyama. “Come on, say it. Don’t be shy.”
The young man opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, two needles impacted his neck. Blood began to flow from his wound. Ritsu and the other candidates remained petrified, watching as the young man writhed and screamed.
Calmly and coldly, the Shinsa-onna approached the dying young man. Their gestures were impassive as they unfolded magical bandages from their hands, wrapping the unfortunate candidate as if he were a mummy. Soon, the young man lay motionless on the floor, unconscious and silenced.
Sugiyama sighed with an air of disdain and shook his head.
“Another failure,” he sentenced coldly. “Well, you know what that means. Now there are one hundred fifty-seven of you. One less competitor.”
Silence reigned in the hall, with all the candidates in shock. No one dared to move or speak, for fear of suffering the same fate as the unconscious youth.
Sugiyama watched them with a cold, ruthless gaze.
“Just in case it wasn’t clear,” he said in a stern voice, “there is a first rule you must follow. Do not question me, or you will be punished. I will not tolerate any disrespect or disobedience. You are here to prove your merit, not to question my authority.”
He paused, as if awaiting some reaction. But no one dared to respond.
“Good,” he continued. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s move on to the exam. The exam will focus on the ‘Four Books and Five Classics,’ which are the fundamental works of imperial culture and philosophy. But do not be overconfident, because the exam will be divided into a variety of formats that will test your memory, your understanding, and your creativity.”
Sugiyama listed the formats in a monotonous voice, as if reciting a litany.
“The first is Decisive Thinking, which consists of me giving you several parts of a classic at random, and you will have to explain to me in fifty sentences the importance of each. It’s not just about repeating what the text says, but about demonstrating that you have understood it and that you are capable of applying it to reality.
The second is Divine Memory, a form of ‘fill in the blanks.’ I will give you a single passage from a classic and ask you to complete what came before and after. No making up or copying from another place. You have to remember the exact words of the author, without missing or exceeding a single one.
The third is the Celestial Debate. You will be presented with various historical situations about politics, economics, and war from the past. You will have to justify, on two scrolls filled on both sides, what you would have done in those cases. It’s not about giving a right or wrong answer, but about arguing logically and persuasively your point of view.
And the fourth, but no less important, is poetry. I will ask you to compose an original poem on a theme related to the classics or current events. The poem must be composed of no more than sixty characters, five in each line. It must have sense and rhythm, but also beauty and depth.”
Sugiyama finished his explanation and looked at the candidates with a cruel smile.
“Are you ready?” he asked mockingly. “Well, I don’t care. You will have eight hours to finish. No more, no less. Once time is up, the Shinsa-onna will put a seal on the last character written on each of your scrolls, preventing any further additions while the exams are collected.”
With a solemn gesture, two Shinsa-onna carried a huge hourglass to the platform where the examiner sat. The clock was made of glass and metal and contained fine red sand that glittered like blood. The women placed it on a carved wooden base and turned it carefully.
The sand began to fall.
He took his brush and paper with trembling hands. He knew that this exam could change his life forever.
If he passed, he would have access to the highest positions of the empire. If he failed, he would be branded a failure and ignorant.
Silence descended in the room, broken only by the scratch of brushes on paper.
The exam had begun.