PureInsight | April 19, 2026
[PureInsight.org] “Live and learn” seems to capture the spirit of lifelong study quite well. Yet in history, some people took this idea to an even greater extreme—not only learning throughout their lives, but continuing to sit for exams as well.
In ancient China, the imperial examination system held immense importance. It was not only the official channel through which the imperial court selected talent, but also a crucial way to assess the scholarly achievements of students. The exams were extremely difficult; many spent decades studying diligently without ever succeeding. Since there was no age limit, it was common to see elderly candidates with white hair in the examination halls, and even centenarians who came to take the tests.
During the Jiaqing era (1796 AD – 1821 AD), Wang Fujing was born into a farming family in Ling County, Shandong. Thanks to the hard work of his ancestors, the family gradually became well-off, and later generations began to place great importance on education. Wang’s father, Wang Lun, was known for his kindness and integrity, as well as his skill in managing the household. He was a respected scholar in the area. On one occasion, he found a bag of silver on the road and waited there patiently for the owner, eventually returning it intact. Such a family environment had a profound influence on Wang Fujing.
From a young age, Wang was diligent and devoted to his studies, often forgetting to eat and sleep. At the age of 18, he passed the exam to become a xiucai (licentiate). However, over the next 59 years, he took the provincial examination nearly 20 times, yet never succeeded in becoming a juren (recommended man). During this time, he supported his family by teaching while continuing his studies.
In the ninth year of the Jiaqing reign, the once high-spirited Wang Fujing was already white-haired. At the age of 80, he entered the examination hall once again, but still failed to pass. Nevertheless, his perseverance deeply moved the Shandong educational commissioner, who reported the matter to the Jiaqing Emperor. Touched by his determination, the emperor directly granted Wang Fujing the title of juren.
When the news arrived, the villagers all rejoiced for him, believing that his long journey through the imperial examinations had finally come to a perfect conclusion. However, Wang Fujing felt that this honor had been granted by the emperor rather than earned through his own merit. Ignoring the advice of others, he resolutely decided to travel to the capital to take the metropolitan examination.
In the thirteenth year of the Jiaqing reign, after a long and arduous journey, the 84-year-old Wang Fujing arrived in the capital. He stayed at an inn, rising early and sleeping late each day to prepare for the exam. Once inside the examination hall, he focused intently on his work. On the day the results were posted, he searched through the crowd for his name and finally found “Wang Fujing” listed at 125th place. In that moment, he was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears filled his eyes—he had finally succeeded.
Afterward, he also passed the palace examination, ranking 238th in the third class, and officially became a Jinshi (palace graduate).
The Jiaqing Emperor greatly admired Wang Fujing and issued a special decree appointing him as a compiler (Jiantao) in the Hanlin Academy. By tradition, only the top three candidates of the palace examination—the zhuangyuan, bangyan, and tanhua—were directly appointed to official posts without further evaluation. Older jinshi were typically assigned to local positions, while only the most promising young talents entered the Hanlin Academy. For someone like Wang Fujing, a third-class jinshi of advanced age, to be admitted directly into the Hanlin Academy was truly a special favor from the emperor.
In the fourteenth year of the Jiaqing reign, the emperor celebrated his 50th birthday with a grand longevity celebration. Wang Fujing presented a carefully composed congratulatory piece, rich in literary elegance and profound in meaning, expressing his blessings for the emperor and the nation. The emperor was very pleased and immediately rewarded him with many treasures.
In the fifteenth year of the Jiaqing reign, due to his advanced age and failing eyesight, Wang Fujing found it difficult to continue his duties. He therefore submitted a letter requesting permission to retire and return home. The emperor approved his request. Thus, this 84-year-old jinshi, who had only served as an official for two years, returned to his hometown to live out his remaining years. In the twenty-first year of the Jiaqing reign, Wang Fujing passed away peacefully in Ling County at the age of 92.
Stories like these are not unique in history.
Huang Zhang, whose ancestral home was in Shunde, began studying at the age of 14 and started taking the imperial examinations at 20. He continued taking them from the Ming dynasty into the Qing dynasty—passing the xiucai exam at 60 and becoming a gongsheng at 83. During the Kangxi era, at the age of 99, Huang Zhang took the Guangdong provincial examination. He had his great-grandson carry a lantern inscribed with the four large characters “A Centenarian Entering the Hall” to guide his way in. Facing the astonished gazes of the crowd, Huang Zhang smiled and said, “I am 99 this year—not yet the time for success in the examination hall. When I come back at 102, that will be the year I pass!” Unfortunately, he still failed that time.
When the Governor-General of Liangguang and the Governor of Guangdong heard of this, they greatly admired him and specially summoned him. During the banquet, they noticed that Huang Zhang had a hearty appetite and remained in excellent health. After the meeting, they presented him with silver and cloth as rewards. Later, to honor his perseverance, local gazetteers in the Qianlong era recorded his story in the Taishan County Gazetteer, Shunde County Gazetteer, and Guangdong General Gazetteer, and it was even included in the Siku Quanshu.
During the Qianlong era (1735 AD – 1796 AD), Xie Qizuo from Zhaoqing, Guangdong, passed the provincial examination at the age of 94, though he later failed the metropolitan exam. When the Qianlong Emperor celebrated his 80th birthday, the ceremony required a Hanlin scholar over the age of 90 to light the longevity candle, but none in the Hanlin Academy met that age. The court therefore made an exception and directly appointed the 94-year-old Xie Qizuo to the Hanlin Academy as a compiler. He eventually lived to the age of 104.
In the Guangxu era (1875 AD – 1908 AD), there was even a 102-year-old examinee named Mo Ruyuan. This elderly scholar was exceptionally knowledgeable, and both his writing and calligraphy were widely praised. He was ultimately awarded the title of Provincial Graduate. In the twentieth year of Guangxu’s reign, he was further granted the Provincial Graduate degree and later rose to the position of vice director of the Imperial Academy.
During the Daoguang era (1821 AD – 1850 AD), Lu Yuncong from Sanshui, Guangdong, took the provincial examination at the age of 102 and was awarded the title of Provincial Graduate. At a banquet, an examiner asked him, “After the hardships of the three sessions, can you still endure?” Lu Yuncong replied that it was no problem. Indeed, the following year he traveled north to the capital to take the metropolitan exam. His arrival caused a sensation, and many people flocked to see this centenarian candidate. They found that he was neither deaf nor visually impaired, walked with vigor, and showed no signs of frailty. Although the 103-year-old Lu Yuncong ultimately did not pass, the Daoguang Emperor admired his spirit and specially appointed him as a vice director of the Imperial Academy.
“An old steed in the stable still aspires to gallop a thousand miles.” The perseverance of these elderly examinees is truly admirable.
Some believe they were overly attached to fame and official success, while others think they simply wished to prove themselves. Yet it cannot be denied that they devoted their entire lives to studying the classics of the sages, reading them tirelessly. This demonstrates the powerful appeal of Confucian thought—profound and far-reaching, connecting the principles of heaven with the lives of the people. These individuals, in their own way, spent a lifetime fulfilling the mission of a scholar.
The Northern Song thinker and educator Zhang Zai once summarized the ideal of scholars: “To establish the heart for Heaven and Earth, to secure the livelihood for the people, to continue the lost teachings of past sages, and to bring peace to all generations.”
Human beings live between Heaven and Earth, originally in complete unity with nature. The books of the sages contain moral principles that accord with the will of Heaven; they enable people to preserve their true nature and maintain a pure heart, so that they can find stability and purpose amid a complex and ever-changing society. By inheriting and carrying forward the wisdom of the ancient sages, Chinese culture is passed on like an unbroken flame, opening the way for enduring peace and prosperity for generations to come. These four lines are deeply stirring—they have become mottos for countless scholars and the ideal realm aspired to by intellectuals throughout the ages.
Studying is not merely for the sake of fame or official success. A true scholar is not a frail bookworm, nor someone who deals only in empty theory or armchair strategy. Cultivating oneself, regulating the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world—these are the responsibilities of a Confucian scholar. Such individuals possess integrity, a sense of moral lineage, firm conviction, and a willingness to take responsibility.
From ancient times to the present, wise rulers and worthy ministers have all regarded the well-being of the people and the prosperity of the nation as their own duty. Since Emperor Wu of Han “dismissed the Hundred Schools and honored Confucianism alone,” Confucian thought has long held a dominant place in state governance. Scholar-officials valued moral character and personal cultivation, took the world as their responsibility, and upheld the ideal of benefiting society and the people, playing a vital role in governance. As Fan Zhongyan famously said, “Be the first to worry about the troubles of the world and the last to enjoy its pleasures.”
Fame and rank are only superficial; it is the profound social value and the lofty spiritual realm that constitute the true meaning of studying.
However, it is regrettable to ask: how much of the brilliance of Chinese culture remains today? Since modern times—especially during cultural catastrophes such as the Cultural Revolution—traditional Chinese culture has suffered severe destruction. Many traditional festivals, rituals, and values were dismantled, and people gradually lost the moral and ethical foundations rooted in benevolence and righteousness. Many no longer know what it means to be Chinese, nor how one ought to live; the deep cultural confidence once possessed by the ancients has largely faded away.
Though the nation may suffer, its mountains and rivers remain; to achieve renewal, one must return to one’s roots. Only by rediscovering and restoring the spiritual essence of traditional Chinese culture can the Chinese nation truly regain its vitality, allowing the sons and daughters of China to once again see a bright future.
Chinese version: https://www.zhengjian.org/node/301622
