Xiao Jingduo was suddenly promoted from the lower eighth rank to the upper seventh rank in one leap, jumping a full seven levels.
According to the Ministry of Appointments, Xiao Jingduo was credited with solving a case. Coincidentally, the position of county magistrate in Jinjiang County was vacant—in other words, no one was willing to take on such a remote post. As a result, Xiao Jingduo had to be promoted on the spot and appointed as the magistrate.
This explanation was reasonable enough, but such a rapid promotion was unprecedented—it was practically an ascension.
Others were so envious they could hardly contain it. This just showed how important luck was in the bureaucracy. First, Xiao Jingduo was caught up in the Jiangzhou case, which left the court with many vacant positions. Then, on the very day he assumed office, his direct superior passed away, leaving the magistrate’s position open. As a result, Xiao Jingduo was immediately promoted and officially took over the post.
At this time, official promotions were tightly controlled. For the officials of the Xuan Dynasty, there were three major hurdles in their career paths. The first was entering the official hierarchy: those within the system were considered officials, while those outside it were merely clerks. Many clerks spent their whole lives toiling away with the sole hope of transitioning into the official ranks, even if it was just as a minor ninth-rank official. After entering the ranks, the second hurdle was the fifth rank. Everyone started as a ninth-rank official, and as long as they diligently handled affairs and avoided major mistakes, they could eventually accumulate enough merit to reach the upper sixth rank through performance evaluations. However, most officials would stop there. The distinction between upper and lower fifth-rank officials was stark—those below the fifth rank were ordinary bureaucrats, unremarkable in the imperial court, while those above the fifth rank were considered high-ranking officials. As long as they followed protocol and accumulated seniority, they had a significant chance of advancing to the upper third rank. The third rank was the pinnacle of an official’s career—anyone who reached it would be respectfully addressed as “Prime Minister.” Ranks above the third were mostly honorary titles; the third rank was where real power within the court resided.
The path to promotion was treacherous, with many officials remaining in low-ranking positions even after twenty years of service. County captains, county assistants, and even the well-regarded proofreaders at the national archives were all low-level officials. They might intimidate commoners, but within the bureaucracy, they had no real influence. However, becoming a county magistrate was an entirely different matter. A magistrate, ranked at the upper seventh rank, was considered a mid-tier official. They had full authority over an entire county’s affairs, wielding real administrative power. Moreover, since the regional governor was stationed at the provincial capital and only visited during special occasions, he rarely interfered with the county magistrate’s duties. In other words, within the county, the magistrate had nearly absolute authority.
Xiao Jingduo had rapidly bypassed the eighth rank and landed in the upper seventh rank, which meant he had to change his official robes accordingly. Now that spring had arrived and the imperial exams were taking place again, it had only been a year since Xiao Jingduo passed the exam, yet the landscape of power had already shifted. Few people even mentioned his cohort of scholars anymore.
His fellow graduates were still in Chang’an, working as ninth-rank proofreaders and editors, quietly correcting texts in their scholarly offices. Meanwhile, Xiao Jingduo had already become a county magistrate of the upper seventh rank. There’s an old saying: “Take one step ahead, and you stay ahead.” Xiao Jingduo never quite understood its meaning before, but after experiencing it firsthand, he realized how true it was.
The people of Jinjiang County had little reaction to his promotion. To them, it didn’t matter who was in charge as long as the county was managed properly, and at least Xiao Jingduo was pleasant to look at. However, for the officials at the county yamen, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
Qiu Ju worked overnight to alter Xiao Jingduo’s magistrate robes. His sudden promotion had caught them all off guard, leaving them completely unprepared. Once the promotion order arrived, Qiu Ju spent several days preparing his official attire and accessories. Though the court provided seasonal uniforms for officials of all ranks, each individual had a unique body shape, so private tailoring was necessary to ensure a proper fit.
At this moment, the downside of having too few people became apparent. It was only because Chen Ci saw that Qiu Ju was overwhelmed and stepped in to help that Xiao Jingduo was able to put on his light green embroidered official robe of the upper seventh rank on time.
As Qiu Ju packed away the county assistant’s uniform that had been replaced, she murmured in disbelief, “It hasn’t been that long, and Langjun has already changed from deep blue to light green. At this rate, wouldn’t Dalangjun soon be wearing crimson and purple robes?”
Officials of the third rank and above wore purple, while those of the fourth and fifth ranks wore crimson. Qiu Ju’s way of calculating promotions was simple and straightforward. Xiao Jingduo found it amusing but didn’t dampen her enthusiasm. Instead, he said, “You’ve worked hard these past few days. Make sure to store the eighth-rank robes properly. Also, don’t say things like this outside.”
“I know, I’ve worked in the marquis’ household for years—do you think I don’t understand this kind of caution?” Qiu Ju said proudly. “Dalangjun has been promoted too quickly. If people hear about it, they might become envious. It’s just like when salaries are distributed—whoever gets the most money is always the quietest.”
It was a forced analogy, but it made sense. Seeing that Qiu Ju understood the importance of discretion, Xiao Jingduo didn’t say more. He had jumped seven ranks in one go, an eye-catching promotion. From now on, he couldn’t afford even the slightest mistake.
…
Early the next morning, Xiao Jingduo arrived at the government office to handle daily affairs. As soon as he appeared, many people gathered to greet him.
“This humble official greets County Magistrate Xiao. Congratulations, My Lord, on your promotion!”
The officials of the county yamen had previously wondered why someone like Xiao Jingduo—a top scholar from Chang’an—would willingly come to a remote place like Jinjiang County to serve as a mere county assistant. Now they understood. His background was solid, and he had come to the provinces to build his reputation and gain experience for future advancement.
Overnight, Xiao Jingduo had gone from being their peer to their superior. Naturally, the older officials in the yamen were not entirely pleased. Xiao Jingduo knew that his current relationship with the staff was delicate, so he remained careful and humble.
“I wouldn’t dare take all the credit. I am grateful for the recognition of the Minister of Appointments and the two Vice Ministers, but I do not see this as my personal achievement. Besides, the successful resolution of the magistrate’s case and the Tai Li Sect case would not have been possible without everyone’s contributions.”
The county registrar, county captain, and other officials saw that although Xiao Jingduo had been promoted, he did not carry himself with arrogance. Their expressions eased slightly.
“You flatter us, you flatter us. Now that County Magistrate Xiao has been promoted, you should move to the West Courtyard—but there’s the issue of Magistrate Chen’s house…”
As the legitimate county magistrate, Xiao Jingduo no longer had to share quarters with others in the East Courtyard. He could now reside in the West Courtyard with his own independent living space. However, since his predecessor had recently died in that house, even though Xiao Jingduo wasn’t superstitious, he couldn’t completely disregard such concerns. Everyone in the yamen agreed to renovate the residence first before he moved in.
For now, Xiao Jingduo continued living in the East Courtyard, but his office had already moved to the West Courtyard. Upon entering through the main gate of the yamen, the first courtyard on the west side housed the Flower Hall, where he received guests. Further inside was his office for handling administrative matters, where he wrote official documents and discussed affairs with his subordinates. Beyond that was his living quarters, which were still being renovated due to the previous magistrate’s death. Behind his residence was the section designated for housing the magistrate’s female family members.
Xiao Jingduo had no female family members, and since Chen Ci was the orphaned daughter of the former county magistrate, he couldn’t neglect her. Thus, her residence remained unchanged, and she continued to live in the rear courtyard. However, to avoid suspicion, Xiao Jingduo ordered the door between the rear courtyard and the front hall to be locked, leaving only one entrance on the busy eastern side for Chen Ci’s use.
Moving to a new office took some getting used to, but since the new location was of higher status, with better lighting and furnishings than the East Courtyard, Xiao Jingduo readily accepted the change. Handling official business in such a bright and spacious setting even improved his mood.
Back when he was still a student, before stepping into officialdom, Xiao Jingduo had thought that a county magistrate’s duties were about judging legal cases, enforcing the law, and promoting education. But once he actually took on the role, he realized that being a magistrate was far from the romanticized version he had read in books. His most important and challenging duty was, in fact, going door to door urging people to pay their taxes.
What disillusionment.
Last year, when he served as county assistant, he had only been acting on behalf of the magistrate. But there was a vast difference between acting and being in charge. Back then, he simply followed the precedents of previous years, aiming not for merit but for the avoidance of mistakes. Now, however, this was his direct responsibility, and he could no longer afford to take the easy route.
After reviewing the household registrations and grain reserves of Jinjiang County over the past decade, Xiao Jingduo had to admit—this place was utterly destitute.
Jinjiang County was surrounded by mountains, making access to the city difficult. There was little flat land, making farming challenging. Despite the heavy rainfall, there were no rivers for irrigation, and both water and land transportation were inconvenient.
As if the poor geography wasn’t bad enough, the previous magistrate, Chen, had been incompetent, and the parasitic Tai Li Sect had been draining the county’s resources. As a result, Jinjiang County’s grain reserves were in complete shambles.
Xiao Jingduo’s head ached just looking at the reports. As magistrate, he had to pass the year-end performance evaluation. The bare minimum requirement was collecting sufficient taxes, while earning high marks required collecting even more. But with the people living in dire poverty, barely able to clothe and feed themselves, how could he expect them to pay taxes?
Even a deity would struggle with this problem. The most urgent task, then, was to revitalize agriculture and sericulture. From his days at the Imperial Academy, Xiao Jingduo had written numerous essays on agricultural development, expounding grand theories. But once he became an official, he realized those writings were mere armchair discussions—everyone understood the principles, but executing them was an entirely different matter.
He knew that sitting indoors and reading books wouldn’t give him real answers. Standing up, he called for a yamen officer and said, “Come with me. I’m going to inspect the fields.”
It was the busy season of spring planting, and the fields were full of farmers transplanting rice seedlings. Xiao Jingduo visited many paddy fields, personally questioning farmers as they worked. Only then did he gradually form a direct understanding of Jinjiang County’s agricultural conditions.
By day, he visited the people; by night, he worked by lamplight, writing and sketching. Farming knowledge had to come from those who worked the land. Many elderly villagers had spent their entire lives tending the fields, accumulating a wealth of seasonal knowledge and farming experience. Xiao Jingduo spent his days interacting with these farmers, and with his status as magistrate combined with his humble attitude, he gradually learned much from them.
He couldn’t help but reflect—the more he learned, the more he realized his own ignorance. If he had relied solely on book knowledge to make decisions without truly understanding the situation, he would have made a disastrous mess.
However, precisely because he understood the situation, Xiao Jingduo felt a growing sense of concern. Jinjiang County’s annual grain production was insufficient—not because the people lacked diligence, but because the county was surrounded by mountains on all sides, leaving little suitable farmland. Due to the constraints of the terrain, the people could only follow the natural contours of the mountains, building terraced paddies in the gentler slopes. But this made the fields both far away and elevated, making them difficult to tend. Many farmers lost considerable time just walking back and forth, exhausting their energy in the process. If they built fields closer to the village, there simply wasn’t enough land available.
Other problems might have solutions, but the lack of arable land—how could that be solved?
Having grown up in the North, where vast plains stretched endlessly, Xiao Jingduo found himself at a loss before such a predicament.
With no better solution, he could only visit the people frequently, encouraging them to farm and produce as much as possible.
One day, as he went to inspect the rice fields again, an elderly man resting by the roadside spotted him as soon as he appeared on the ridge. The old man immediately called out in a loud voice, “Magistrate Xiao, you’re here again!”
At his words, many others turned their heads toward Xiao Jingduo, even those bent over planting rice in the water straightened up and waved.
“Magistrate Xiao!”
Having visited the fields so often in recent days, Xiao Jingduo had already become familiar with the people. Seeing the young magistrate again, many farmers paused their work to greet him warmly.
Xiao Jingduo returned their smiles and said, “You’ve all worked hard. Please don’t mind me, I’m just here to take a look.”
After exchanging a few more words with the enthusiastic villagers, he continued his inspection with his attendants, moving quietly through the fields. After observing several plots, he stopped before one and crouched down to ask an elderly farmer who was resting at the edge of the field.
“Elder, in your opinion, how is the rice growing this year?”
The old farmer, nearly sixty, had worked the land since he was a child, witnessing countless harvests firsthand. His wealth of experience was undeniable. He glanced over the rice plants with his deeply wrinkled eyes, then shook his head.
“From what I can tell, the harvest this year will only be average.”
Only an average harvest.
Xiao Jingduo sighed inwardly. It seemed that no matter how frequently he patrolled the fields, the rice wouldn’t yield more just because of his presence. Jinjiang County’s path to prosperity was still a long one.
As he continued asking the old farmer about agricultural matters, a yamen officer suddenly rushed toward him, shouting urgently, “Magistrate Xiao! An envoy from the imperial court has arrived. The registrar has summoned you back to the county office at once!”
An envoy from the court?
Xiao Jingduo’s expression turned serious. He immediately stood up and hurried back.
Many villagers, their pants rolled up to their knees as they stood in the muddy fields, watched his sudden departure in confusion. They murmured among themselves, puzzled.
“What’s going on? Why did Magistrate Xiao leave so quickly?”
“No idea. I just heard someone say the imperial court sent an envoy.”
“The court sent an envoy?”
Xiao Jingduo rushed into the county office, stepping through the doors without hesitation. The moment he entered, he asked, “What happened?”
The registrar looked at him gravely. “Magistrate, the regional inspector just sent an urgent dispatch. His Majesty… has passed away.”
T/N: Apologies for the late update. The title of this chapter isn’t a mistake, it’s the same as the previous chapter. Maybe to avoid foreshadowing the unexpected death of the emperor?
Xiao Jingduo’s face rn:（ ﾟ Дﾟ)
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