In contrast, the doctor speaking with him was named David Carter, courtesy name Mr. Reed. It was said he was the nephew of the Grand Preceptor of the Xin Dynasty, dressed in the robes of the court and wearing the official cap, looking every bit the picture of seriousness. Yet it was precisely from his mouth that such words as “Can a person’s spirit be transferred to another body after death?” emerged.

Then Edward Clark replied, “Mr. Reed says that when a candle burns out, it can be replaced with another. But then, who is it that replaces the candle?”

David Carter said, “Naturally, it is a person.”

“Exactly!”

Edward Clark clapped his hands. “If no one takes the initiative to replace it, the candle will still burn out. In that case, after a person grows old and withers away, who will replace our bodies, and how would it be done?”

At this, David Carter was left speechless. After a long pause, he finally said, “Perhaps, only the gods could do it…”

“And where are the gods?” Edward Clark spread his hands. “Life has its beginning, growth, aging, and death—just like the cycle of the four seasons. Yet Mr. Reed wishes to change this nature and seek another path; that is truly misguided.”

Edward Clark turned to look at the crowd. Henry Benson did not avert his gaze in guilt, but instead looked steadily back at James Clark, listening carefully to every word he spoke.

“A candle, if tended well and turned regularly, can burn longer and not be snuffed out halfway. People are the same. Rather than pondering whether one can change bodies after death, it is better to seek ways to nurture one’s nature, so that one may live out a full life.”

Edward Clark’s words shattered Henry Benson’s preconceived notions about the superstitious and anti-intellectual nature of the scholar-officials of this era. Unfortunately, he knew too little about the Xin Dynasty, and did not know whether Edward Clark would be remembered in history, or whether this maverick could survive the coming chaos.

In the past, as a staunch materialist, Henry Benson would have wholeheartedly agreed with Edward Clark. Now, however, he was no longer so sure.

“What, then, is the reason for my transmigration? I hope it’s science, not something else.”

Henry Benson shook his head, refusing to dwell on questions he could never answer in his lifetime. For now, all he could do was, as Edward Clark said, cherish his new life. Of course, he also had to be careful to avoid any troubles that might affect his future survival.

For example, today’s events!

……

Now that personal matters were finished, it was time for official business. Edward Clark, in stark contrast to his earlier eloquence, now seemed uninterested, even yawning, leaving David Carter to preside. David Carter addressed the group:

“Studying is no easy task. In the first month, when farm work has not yet begun; in the eighth month, when the heat has faded; in the eleventh month, when inkstones freeze—children, once grown, must all enter elementary school. They study the ‘Classic of Filial Piety’ and the ‘Analects.’ In a single commandery, there may be hundreds, but after assessment by the commandery doctor and the three elders, only the ten most outstanding among you are selected to enter the Imperial Academy!”

Everyone straightened their backs, except for Henry Benson. The assessment had taken place in early autumn, before his transmigration, so he felt there was nothing to be proud of.

Moreover, although the original owner of this body was well-versed in the Confucian classics, advancement in this era depended not only on academic performance, but also on one’s family background, wealth, and reputation.

Just look around—was there a single child from a poor family? To make it this far, one had to be either the son of a hereditary official with connections in the government, have a family tradition of Confucian learning with elders to tutor them, or, like the The Benson Family, be a local gentry family. His grandfather had given many gifts to the commandery, and only after paying extra to edge out a clan brother did Henry Benson secure a spot.

David Carter continued, “As Master Dong said, the Imperial Academy is where the worthy gather, the foundation of education and transformation. Yet in the previous dynasty, during Emperor Wu’s reign, there were only fifty students in the Academy. Under Emperors Zhao and Xuan, it increased to a hundred; under Yuan and Cheng, to a thousand—still not enough to nurture the scholars of the realm.”

He cupped his hands toward the capital. “It was not until His Majesty ascended the throne and placed great importance on education that ten thousand dormitories were built south of the city, and the number of Academy students increased to ten thousand!”

Wang Mang himself was a Confucian scholar, and after becoming emperor, he placed great emphasis on education. This expansion was truly significant.

David Carter went on, “With the flourishing of the Academy, the appointment of distinguished teachers, and thorough examinations, the talented can be found. After entering the Academy, you must remember His Majesty’s teachings and diligently study the Five Classics. There is an annual examination: forty top scorers in the first class become gentlemen-in-waiting, twenty in the second class become attendants to the Crown Prince, and forty in the third class become literary officials.”

“The great Confucian scholar Xiahou Sheng once said, ‘The scholar’s ailment lies in not understanding the classics. If one can master them, obtaining official rank is as easy as picking grass from the ground. Strive for it, all of you.’”

These words stirred everyone’s spirits. Excelling in studies and then entering officialdom was the natural order. The students present, and the families behind them, all vied for these spots, hoping to secure a bright future for their clans.

Next, the two doctors randomly selected students for questioning, mostly as a formality—only those who performed terribly would be eliminated at this stage. David Carter knew that if Edward Clark were to ask questions, he would surely pose obscure and difficult ones, so he took on the task himself, letting Edward Clark relax.

But even the simplest questions were beyond Henry Benson.

After transmigrating, not only had he developed hypersomnia, needing to sleep five or six hours a day, but his memory was severely impaired—at best, he could recognize his relatives. As for the ‘Classic of Filial Piety,’ the ‘Analects,’ and even more complex commentaries and exegeses, he had forgotten them all.

Being called on by the teacher and unable to utter a single word was undoubtedly embarrassing. There was only one solution…

As long as I give up quickly enough, embarrassment can’t catch up to me!

When it was Henry Benson’s turn, he didn’t wait for David Carter to ask a question, but instead bowed deeply to the two of them first.