The Great Song Dynasty: You were put in charge of teaching, and you produced a whole bunch of prime

Inside the study, the air seemed to have solidified into lead.

Su Shi's hand trembled like he had Parkinson's disease as he held the brush, and a large blot of ink spread on the rice paper, much like his collapsing heart at that moment.

Write it down.

Jiang Lin slumped in his armchair, twirling a copper movable type with his fingertips. His voice was languid, yet it sounded like a devil whispering in his ear.

"Zizhan, with this stroke of your pen, the history of the Song Dynasty will be rewritten. Haven't you always wanted to do something earth-shattering? Your chance has come."

"Headmaster! My revered teacher!"

Su Shi slammed his pen down, his features contorted with grief and indignation, his usually spirited face flushed crimson.

"This...this is utterly disgraceful! I, Su Zizhan, have studied the classics for twenty years, how could I possibly write such...this kind of writing that only vulgar scoundrels would read?!"

He pointed to a half-finished title on the paper, his finger trembling violently: "This is utterly humiliating to scholars!"

Jiang Lin smirked, picked up the charcoal pencil, and shoved it back into the trembling hand.

"Refined manners? Face?"

Jiang Lin stood up, placed his hands on the table, leaned forward, and an arrogance emanating from his very bones instantly enveloped Su Shi.

"Right now, the whole of Bianjing is cursing us as heretics and calling the academy a den of demons. You think you can reason with them? Nobody will listen. You think you can save your life with the books of sages? That's a pipe dream."

He pointed to the headline, enunciating each word slowly and deliberately, like a demon's judgment:

"In this world, if you want to survive, if you want to turn black into white, then finish writing this line!"

Write me a piece titled "Shocking! Why did the Prince of Runan weep in the dead of night? The untold secret of the top floor of Fanlou!"

Su Shi gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead.

On one side are the sages' teachings etched into my bones, and on the other side is my mentor's unquestionable gaze.

"This kind of title...this kind of vulgar writing..." Su Shi's eyes twitched, making a final, desperate struggle, "Will it really work?"

"The common people don't care about the truth; they only care about vulgarities and royal gossip." Jiang Lin patted his face, his tone icy. "This is the first lesson I'm teaching you: if you don't occupy the high ground of public opinion, the enemy will."

"Write!"

Su Shi closed his eyes, steeled his resolve, and let out a desperate cry.

Screw civility!

With a swift wrist and a scratching charcoal pencil, lines of mind-blowing "marketing" text flowed from the pen:

Zhao Yunrang was so terrified at Fanlou that he wet himself? No! That was "the soul trembling after seeing the true dragon's purple aura"!

The Liao envoy's eye was injured? No! It was because "the barbarians, lacking virtue, dared to pry into the secrets of heaven and were punished by heaven!"

A telescope? That's a "national treasure for distinguishing between loyalty and treachery"!

After writing the last character, Su Shi slumped in his chair as if his bones had been removed, his eyes vacant like a broken rag doll.

"It's over... I'm not clean anymore... My lifelong reputation, Su Zizhan's, is ruined..."

Jiang Lin blew the ink dry, looked at the first draft full of "traffic codes," and nodded in satisfaction.

"Excellent, very energetic. Print! Before dawn, I want ten thousand copies of the *Great Song Daily* to blanket Bianjing and teach those old fogies a lesson!"

……

The next morning, Bianjing was in an uproar.

A group of little beggars, carrying cloth bags, scurried into various entertainment venues, inns, and brothels like mercury spilling onto the ground.

"Newspapers for sale! Newspapers for sale!"

"Two coins a serving! Exclusive reveal of the truth behind the Liao envoy's screams!"

"The first newspaper of the Song Dynasty! Even the Prince praised it! If you're not shocked after reading it, you don't have to pay!"

Deyuelou.

Liu Fuzi, who was the most vocal critic of Jiang Lin yesterday, has just set up his stance for the second round of his verbal attack.

"Gentlemen! That demonic weapon created by Jiang Lin is an omen of chaos for the nation..."

"Snapped!"

With a crisp sound, a piece of paper, smelling of ink, was slammed heavily in front of Master Liu.

A fat merchant below, munching on a steamed bun, scoffed, "What nonsense! Look at the newspaper! That's 'True Dragon Purple Aura'! Those Liao barbarians are just unlucky; they were blinded by the Emperor's dragon aura!"

"What nonsense is this?" Master Liu frowned, picking up the paper with a look of disgust.

At first glance, I was blinded by the bold and blacked-out title—

"If there is no guilty conscience, what is there to fear when the mirror reflects one's heart? — An in-depth analysis of why the Liao people were afraid."

The more Master Liu looked at it, the more his hands trembled, and cold sweat trickled down his temples.

This article is logically sound (it's all sophistry), cites numerous sources (it's all fabricated), and its final conclusion is nothing more than a direct labeling:

Anyone who calls the telescope a demonic device is either a traitor from the Liao Kingdom, too guilty to look in the mirror, or a treacherous minister who questions the Mandate of Heaven!

This hat is heavier than Mount Tai!

"This...this is sophistry! Utter nonsense!" Master Liu was so angry that his beard trembled.

"I think that makes a lot of sense." The tea drinkers around the fat merchant nodded in agreement, their eyes instantly changing. "The Prince was unharmed after seeing it; instead, he wept bitterly, contemplating the ways of Heaven. But the Liao people went blind after seeing it. What is this if not divine retribution?"

"That's right! No wonder I heard there was a purple aura on the top of Fanlou!"

Someone stared at Master Liu with a sinister look: "This Master Liu usually seems so righteous, but he's so eager to curse the Divine Mirror. Could he also be a Liao person...?"

Public opinion shifts faster than turning the pages of a book.

The tea drinkers who were just moments ago filled with righteous indignation now had shining eyes, looking at Master Liu as if he were a walking, talking millionaire.

If I keep cursing, I'll become a Liao spy! Who can bear that kind of accusation?

"I...the fire in my stove is still burning, farewell! Farewell!" Master Liu covered his face with his sleeves and fled in a sorry state like a stray dog.

in the corner.

Su Shi, who witnessed the whole thing, felt his scalp tingle.

An unprecedented sense of dread shot straight to the top of my head. It wasn't fear, it was excitement, the fervor of opening the door to a new world!

So this is how words can be used?

No need for quotations or elaborate parallelism; all you need to do is capture people's hearts, and you can turn black into white, killing without bloodshed and destroying their spirit!

"Headmaster..."

Su Shi turned to look at Jiang Lin, who was peeling melon seeds, and his expression changed completely.

If yesterday he thought Jiang Lin was a devil who forced women into prostitution, now he sees a god who manipulates people's hearts.

"What, are we still going to argue with them?" Jiang Lin spat out the sunflower seed shells, his expression indifferent.

"What's the point of arguing!"

Su Shi, his face flushed, slammed his hand on the table, his previous dejection vanishing instantly.

"Headmaster, could this newspaper be published every day?"

"As long as you want to write."

"Out! We absolutely have to!" Su Shi's eyes lit up as he grabbed a handful of melon seeds. "I heard that the Liao envoy Xiao Temo wet his pants after returning home. Can we use this material?"

Jiang Lin raised an eyebrow, impressed by the young man's quick learning: "Absolutely. I've already thought of a title—'Exclusive Decryption: Why Are Liao Cavalry Frequently Soaked? Is It Moral Decline or...'"

"Brilliant!"

Su Shi slapped his thigh, grabbed the newspaper, and ran back, his retreating figure brimming with fighting spirit: "I'm going to write this right now! I'll show the Liao people what the power of a Song Dynasty scholar's pen is! I'll tear them apart!"

Jiang Lin watched this scene, chuckled, and shook his head.

"The 'it smells so good' principle applies; it may be late, but it arrives eventually."

……

Jingshi Academy, accounting office.

The sound of gold and silver clashing is pleasant and melodious.

Jiang Lin looked at the mountain of gift boxes on the table and the five thousand strings of cash, and was in a great mood.

This is the "writing fee" that was just sent by the Prince of Runan's residence.

When Zhao Yunrang saw the morning newspaper, his back straightened instantly.

Look! Look at what's written in the newspaper! Was I crying from fright? Those were tears of "understanding the will of Heaven and having the nation in my heart"! They were the tears of a loyal subject!

"Thump, thump-thump".

A gentle knock was heard on the backyard wooden door. Three long knocks followed by two short ones, the rhythm precise.

Jiang Lin gave Su Shi a wink, signaling him to quickly collect the money, and then straightened his clothes to open the door.

The night outside was as dark as ink.

Zhao Lingjun, dressed in a moon-white scholar's robe, stood quietly in the shadows. Her features were exquisite, her figure slender, and she held a curled-edge copy of the "Great Song Daily" in her hand.

"It's so late, still not asleep?" Jiang Lin leaned against the door frame, smiling casually.

Zhao Lingjun didn't waste any words.

She waved the newspaper in her hand, and in those eyes that always held a scrutinizing gaze, there burned an ambition that even Jiang Lin found chilling.

She stepped across the threshold, approaching Jiang Lin step by step, her voice cold and firm, throwing out the biggest bombshell of the night.

"Chief, what about the business of the *Great Song Daily*..."

She turned around, looked directly into Jiang Lin's eyes, and slowly uttered four words:

"The emperor said he wanted to invest."