A man named Jing of Danyang was sitting the entry examination. He dreamt he came to a temple where a king was seated above, and before the steps a number of clerks stood holding registers, very imposing in their bearing.
Jing pointed at the registers and asked a clerk what they were.
“The examination registers,” said the clerk.
“Then look one up for me,” said Jing, delighted.
“Very well.”
Jing had gone through life confident that he would take the top of the list, so he asked first for the Register of the Top Three. He went through it: no name. He had the Register of Presented Scholars and Recommendees checked: no name there either. He could not keep the colour out of his face.
“Perhaps he is in the Register of Classicists and Talents,” said one of the clerks. They searched it all through. Nothing.
Jing laughed out loud. “This is nonsense. With my writing I could head the empire. What difficulty could there be about getting a licentiate’s degree?”
And he moved to smash the registers.
“Do not be angry,” said the clerk. “There is still the Register of the Unranked to look through. The unranked are those who have the writing but not the salary. Among men the top of the palace list counts first; in heaven the unranked count first. That register is kept by the King of Manifest Light. You could ask him for it.”
He did so, and the king took a book from the table — pale jade leaves strung on golden thread — and opened it at the first page, and the first name on it was Jing of Danyang.
Jing burst into tears.
“You are a fool,” said the king, laughing. “Try counting how many famous optimates and famous chief examiners there have ever been. Han Yu’s grandson Gun took the top of the list — and everyone knows Han Yu, and nobody knows Gun. Luo Yin never passed as long as he lived, and to this day everyone knows Luo Yin. Go home and look for real learning.”
“Is there no real learning among the degree-holders, then?”
“Those who have both the talent and the fortune to use it are no more than a few in a generation — men like Han Yu, Bai Juyi, Ouyang Xiu and Su Shi. Their names are on a separate list, in the Purple Jade Palace. You have no part in that one either.”
Jing had no answer ready. The king shook out his robes and rose, and declaimed at the top of his voice:
A degree is a trifling thing, why envy it? Of the great and eminent, few in all history are remembered.
Jing woke in low spirits, and never passed to the end of his days.
