By the Song Dynasty, the imperial examination system had become widespread. Scholars seeking official positions had to endure "ten years of hard study in obscurity," then go through a series of procedures, taking exams level by level. Those who passed would ultimately be selected and granted official posts by the court.
In the highest local examination, known as the provincial exam, held in each province's capital, successful candidates earned the title of "juren." With this qualification, they could proceed to the national exam in the capital—the metropolitan exam. For scholars, becoming a juren was a pivotal step that could shape their entire future.
One autumn, it was time for the provincial examination to select candidates. A scholar named Sun Shan packed his bags early, preparing to go to the provincial capital for the exam. Sun Shan was clever, articulate, witty, and humorous, earning the nickname "Jester Genius." Not only his family but also his fellow villagers had high hopes for his success.
A few days before his departure, an elderly villager visited Sun Shan and asked, "Would you take my son along to the exams? He could use your guidance." Sun Shan, being a few years older, readily agreed.
After arriving in the provincial capital, the two smoothly took the exams. Once finished, they toured the famous mountains and rivers around the city, waiting for the results to be posted.
The day of the results finally arrived. The notice board was packed with anxious candidates, and Sun Shan struggled to squeeze through the crowd until he found a spot where he could barely make out the names. Stretching his neck and straining his eyes, he nervously scanned the list for his own name.
After scanning the list twice without finding his own name, he broke into a cold sweat, his hands and feet trembling. On a third look, he discovered he was the very last name on the roster, and his sorrow instantly turned to joy. He then searched for his fellow villager's son, checking several times, but that name was nowhere to be found, so he returned to the inn.
Upon entering the room, Sun Shan found the villager's son lying sideways on the bed, staring blankly into space—he had already learned of his failure and was deeply dejected. Eager to return home, Sun Shan prepared to leave immediately, while the villager's son decided to stay a few more days in the provincial capital. So Sun Shan bid him farewell and departed first.
Sun Shan returned home, and his neighbors, hearing he had passed the imperial exam, came to congratulate him. The old man also arrived and, not seeing his son, anxiously asked, "Did my son pass?" Without directly answering, Sun Shan recited two lines of poetry: "The last name on the list is Sun Shan; your worthy son is beyond Sun Shan."
The listeners were momentarily puzzled, but after a moment's thought, they understood—and the old man was no exception.
In ancient times, candidates who passed the provincial exam and went to the capital for the imperial exam were all sent by their local authorities. Thus, the top provincial graduate was called "Jieyuan," and all successful candidates' names on the list were referred to as "Jie names." When asked about his son's result, Sun Shan replied, "The last name on the list is mine, Sun Shan, and your son's name falls even behind mine." This was a polite way of saying he had failed.
Later, people began referring to failing an exam as "falling behind Sun Shan."
Source: *Guoting Lu*
Meaning of the Idiom: Later, the Chinese idiom "名落孙山" came to describe failing an exam as falling behind Sun Shan.