A silk cheatsheet used in ancient imperial examinations, displayed at Nanjing Confucius Temple Photo: TUCHONG
Recruiting talent through examinations represents a long-standing tradition in China. From its establishment during the Sui Dynasty to its abolition in 1905, the imperial examination system, or keju, spanned over 1,300 years of Chinese history.
Imperial examination system
During the Ming and Qing dynasties, the imperial examination system was divided into two levels: the provincial exam and the metropolitan exam. Provincial exams were held every three years in the provincial capitals. Those who passed were titled “Juren,” with the top scorer referred to as “Jieyuan.” The metropolitan exam, a higher-level test, also took place every three years, scheduled in the spring of the second year following the provincial exam. Juren candidates would travel to the national capital to participate in the metropolitan exam, and those who passed were titled “Gongshi.” Each session admitted 100-300 candidates, with a passing rate of about 5%. The top scorer in the metropolitan exam was called “Huiyuan.”
After passing the metropolitan exam, Gongshi candidates would proceed to the palace exam, which was personally overseen by the emperor. Test results were ranked into three categories. The top three candidates in the first category were awarded the titles of “Zhuangyuan,” “Bangyan,” and “Tanhua.” Candidates in the second category, accounting for about one-third of the total, were conferred the title of “Jinshi Chushen,” while those in the third category, about two-thirds of the total, were granted the title of “Tong Jinshi Chushen.” After the results were announced, the top three would immediately receive official appointments, while the other Jinshi candidates had to take an additional court exam to qualify for official positions.
Stories in history
The imperial examination represented a crucial opportunity for commoners to elevate their social status, so candidates spared no effort in preparing for it, making the examination full of stories and drama.
Provincial exams were usually held in provincial examination halls, which were filled with rows of tightly arranged cubicles. Each cubicle was enclosed on three sides, open on the south side, and measured about 1.3 square meters. The only furnishings were two wooden planks: the upper one served as a writing desk, and the lower one as a bench. At night, the two planks were joined to form a bed. Both the provincial and metropolitan exams consisted of three sessions, each requiring candidates to stay in the small cubicles for three days and two nights at a time. Only at the end of each session were candidates allowed to return to their lodgings or home to rest and prepare their supplies for the next round.
Candidates were responsible for bringing their own food, as the examination halls did not provide meals. In the 18th-century novel The Scholars, wealthy candidates would prepare in advance by purchasing fine foods such as mooncakes, pastries, ginseng, pickles, and salted duck, along with medicinal herbs to aid digestion. Poorer candidates had to subsist on simple rations or bring their own rice and vegetables to cook between exam sessions. A common tool for lighting and cooking was the “Wugeng Ji” stove, fueled by tung or tea oil. It produced thick black smoke, leaving many candidates soot-covered and grimy by the end of the nine-day ordeal.
Despite the harsh conditions, some candidates managed to find amusement. At that time, cubicles were arranged in groups of ten, known as a “nong,” and candidates within nong groups were allowed to socialize. In the Hunan provincial exam of 1876, a famous scholar named Wu Xie, Zeng Chongbo, and another aristocrat named Wei Houping, happened to be in the same nong group. The three wealthy candidates decided to make the most of their rare time together by preparing a pot of congee in their cubicles using a “Wugeng Ji.” When the congee was almost ready, Zeng accidentally knocked over the pot, and the three, both annoyed and amused, recorded the incident. All three went on to pass the exam, and their story became a popular tale.
Given the significant impact of the imperial examination on candidates’ futures, it is no surprise that cheating was rampant, with various inventive methods employed. The most common technique involved hiding tiny cheatsheets in clothing, shoe insoles, or even food. Proctors conducted thorough searches, and offenders were severely punished. To curb cheating, strict regulations were imposed: all items brought into the exam hall must be inspected, and food was required to be broken open for examination. Still, such measures could not entirely eliminate smuggling.
In some cases, examiners themselves were complicit in cheating. Since the candidates’ names were sealed on their papers, they would arrange a secret signal—such as placing an obscure word at the beginning or end of the essay—to tip off bribed graders, who would then provide favorable treatment. The imperial government was strict in investigating and punishing exam fraud, especially when it involved corrupt examiners. In 1657, after the Jiangnan provincial exam concluded, accusations arose that the chief examiner, Fang You, and his colleagues had shown favoritism by selecting candidates from their own families. The emperor ordered a thorough investigation. Lacking direct evidence, a re-examination was held, supervised by soldiers armed with knives. Some candidates performed poorly or even submitted blank papers, confirming suspicions of fraud. Candidates who submitted blank papers were flogged with 40 strokes and exiled, along with their families. Other candidates in the re-examination were stripped of their titles. Fang You and a dozen co-examiners were executed, and their property confiscated.
Another form of cheating was known as “maoji” [“substitution”]. The difficulty of the exam and the number of admissions varied by province. For instance, candidates in Jiangsu might struggle to pass, but in a remote province, they could succeed more easily. Some candidates, therefore, would pretend to be locals and sit for exams in other provinces. If caught, however, they faced severe punishment. In the late Qing Dynasty, a man named Zhang Jian nearly had his career derailed by such a situation. Unable to pass the xiucai exam in his hometown due to fierce competition, his family arranged for him to take the exam in Rugao, where he succeeded. However, his subterfuge was uncovered, and the local authorities pursued the case. It was only by the intervention of an influential teacher that Zhang was allowed to return to his hometown to take the exam again. In 1894, he achieved the highest score in the palace examination, earning the prestigious title of Zhuangyuan. Zhang eventually became a celebrated entrepreneur, politician and educator who made great contributions to the country.
Edited by REN GUANHONG