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

Jingshi Academy, early morning.

The academy, usually filled with the sound of students reading aloud, now resembled a lonely city besieged by a million-strong army.

"Thump!"

A rusty kitchen knife flew over the high wall and struck the old locust tree in the yard with precision. The blade penetrated deep into the wood, and the end was still humming.

Immediately following was a packet of herbs emitting a strange odor, along with a note that drifted on the wind, bearing the blood-stained words: "Give Iron-Blooded Hermit a stomach cleanse; once he's sober, write this immediately!"

"Is this what you mean by 'revered by all'?"

Su Shi huddled under the stone table, clutching half a half-eaten bun in his hand, staring in terror at the cleaver that had nearly chopped off his hair.

"Chief, this is clearly a massacre! That herbal packet is full of croton seeds! It's all croton seeds! They want me to die in the outhouse!"

Jiang Lin lay on a rattan chair not far away, holding a cup of pre-rain Longjing tea in his hand, his expression so calm that it seemed the noise outside the wall was just a few cicada chirps.

"Zizhan, this is love."

Jiang Lin blew away the tea leaves and said leisurely, "The deeper the love, the harsher the criticism. The people are worried that your talent will be stifled, so they specially brought you herbs to clear your mind. As for that knife... they probably want you to use it to cut off distracting thoughts and concentrate on writing."

"That's a butcher's knife!" Su Shi cried out in grief and indignation. "I heard the big man who threw the knife. He's Zheng the butcher from West Street. He said if I killed off Guo Jing in my writing, I'd be the next one he'd slaughter!"

The clamor outside the wall grew louder and louder, as if it might burst through the gate at any moment.

"Su Zizhan! Get out here!"

"Those who cut off chapters deserve a terrible death!"

"If you don't update soon, I'll hang myself at the academy gate!"

It turns out that last night, Su Shi was so happy about the initial success of his serialized story that he drank several jars of Nu'er Hong wine, which directly caused the serialized story in the "Da Song Zao Bao" to be blank this morning.

All that remained was a single, appalling line: "Iron-Blooded Hermit has caught a cold and requests a day off."

For the newly arrived and deeply engrossed people of Bianjing, this was akin to a bride suddenly announcing on her wedding night that she was going to become a nun.

"Headmaster, save me..." Su Shi's voice trembled as he looked at the crumbling gate.

Jiang Lin put down his teacup, a capitalist's smile playing on his lips.

"Want to live? Simple."

He stood up, walked to the back of the courtyard gate, glanced through the crack at the sea of ​​heads outside, and then snapped his fingers at Qian Duoduo, who was huddled in the corner.

"Duoduo, put up the sign."

"Alright!" Qian Duoduo was obviously prepared and skillfully took out a mahogany plaque that had been written on beforehand from his pocket. It was made by Jiang Lin overnight.

A moment later, the side door of the academy opened a crack, and a conspicuous notice board was pushed out.

The crowd fell silent for a moment, then erupted into even louder discussions.

The notice read:

[Given that the author, Tiexue Jushi, is unwell and updates are difficult, a special "urging update" channel has been launched to thank readers for their support.]

Those who tip one hundred strings of silver coins will be honored as the "Golden Alliance Leader".

[Privilege 1: Receive a complimentary copy of the *Da Song Zao Bao* (Great Song Morning Post) personally signed by Tie Xue Jushi.]

[Privilege Two: You can read tomorrow's chapter draft in advance (reading is limited to within the academy and may not be shared outside).]

[Limited spots available, only ten per day, first come, first served.]

Dead silence.

A deathly silence.

Su Shi's eyes widened: "Headmaster, are you crazy? One hundred strings of cash? You couldn't rob someone of that fast! Who would spend one hundred strings of cash just to read a novel of a few thousand words? That's enough for an ordinary family to live on for several years..."

"I'll pay!"

Outside the wall, a loud shout interrupted Su Shi's doubts.

Zheng Tu, the butcher from West Street, waved his greasy money bag and roared with bloodshot eyes, "As long as I know whether the Seven Heroes of Jiangnan are dead or not, I'll give you this hundred strings of cash! I've made a lot of money butchering pigs these past few days anyway!"

"A crude brute like you dares to be the leader of an alliance?" A young man in brocade robes pushed through the crowd and slammed a silver note on the door. "I'll offer two hundred strings of cash! I want to see not only tomorrow's draft, but also the draft from the day after tomorrow!"

"Me too!"

Count me in!

In an instant, what was supposed to be a "crusade" turned into an "auction." The human desire for "privilege" and "spoilers" triumphed over reason at that moment.

Hearing the pleasant sound of coins falling into a bag outside, Jiang Lin turned to look at the dumbfounded Su Shi: "Zizhan, did you see that? This is the power of 'paid knowledge'. Now, why don't you hurry back and write your draft? Those ten 'Golden Alliance Masters' are waiting to see the draft."

Su Shi swallowed hard, looking at Jiang Lin as if he were looking at a devil.

Turning readers' anger into real money—is this the teachings of a sage? This is clearly sorcery!

However, just as Qian Duoduo was busy collecting money until his hands cramped, a series of uniform footsteps, accompanied by the sound of armor clashing, abruptly cut off the lively atmosphere.

"Everyone disperse! The Censorate is handling a case!"

A sharp shout rang out, like a thunderclap.

The originally crowded people were forcibly separated, and two teams of yamen runners dressed in black robes and carrying fire and water sticks rushed over fiercely, instantly surrounding the gate of Jingshi Academy.

A middle-aged official, dressed in a scarlet robe and wearing a black gauze hat, walked out slowly with his hands behind his back.

He had a thin face and a sinister look in his eyes. He was none other than Li Yushi, Wang Kui's close confidant and the famous "Iron-Faced Judge" of the Censorate.

Someone in the crowd recognized him and exclaimed, "It's Censor Li! That living devil who specializes in arresting those who spread rumors and punish them for their words!"

"It's over, the academy is doomed."

"It seems that Scholar Su has really gotten himself into big trouble this time."

Although the people loved reading, they had a natural fear of the government and kept their distance, turning the once lively scene into complete silence.

Imperial Censor Li coldly scanned the area, his gaze finally settling on Jiang Lin, who had just emerged.

"Jiang Lin, how dare you!"

Imperial Censor Li's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of official authority.

"How dare they gather crowds to cause trouble, use sensationalist stories to amass wealth, and disrupt the order of the capital! I am hereby ordered to shut down the newspaper office and take away all those involved!"

Having said that, he waved his hand and said, "Men, seal the gate! Not a single fly is allowed to get out!"

"promise!"

The constables responded in unison, their imposing manner shaking the heavens.

Hiding behind the door, Su Shi's face turned deathly pale: "It's over, it's over. This time, the Wang family is serious. The Censorate is arresting people directly, without even a chance to defend themselves."

Jiang Lin remained standing in the same spot, not even letting the smile on his lips fade in the slightest.

He stepped forward, cupped his hands in greeting, and said, "Lord Li, may I have a word with you in private?"

"Hmph, this is official business, what's there to say?" Imperial Censor Li said with an indignant expression. "Does Chief Jiang intend to bribe me? His crime is compounded!"