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

Wang Wenxuan stumbled and almost fainted.

Looking at the burlap sack wriggling excitedly on the ground like a worm, he suddenly felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

This is hardly a kidnapping of a top-scoring student.

This is clearly a case of kidnapping a madman!

"Take him away! Take him away now!" Wang Wenxuan practically fled the private room, as if something dirty was chasing him.

The night was deep, but the hustle and bustle of Fanlou continued.

No one knew that the literary leader of the Song Dynasty was stuffed into a sack and carried out the back door like cargo.

In the messy private room, Qin Cao stared at the empty doorway, clutching the hem of her skirt covered with the tattered manuscript of "The Eagle and the Condor Heroes" tightly in her hand, a resolute glint in her eyes.

"Chrysanthemums are blooming by the eastern fence..." she murmured to herself, then turned and walked to the window, quietly moving a pot of blooming chrysanthemums to the far left of the windowsill.

That was her only secret code for communicating with the outside world.

……

"Tick-tock".

A drop of murky water slid down the moss-covered stone wall and landed on the moldy straw.

This is an unnamed private prison somewhere underground in Bianjing City, where the air is filled with a musty, decaying smell.

An ordinary person would probably be terrified and cowering in a corner, trembling with fear.

But Su Shi was no ordinary person.

He is the newly crowned top scholar of the Song Dynasty, Jiang Lin's first disciple, and now the most popular "Guo Jing's ghostwriter" in Bianjing.

By the flickering light of the oil lamp on the wall, Su Shi was lying face down on a slightly flat stone.

Holding a piece of charcoal he had picked up from the ground, he scribbled furiously on a crumpled piece of scrap paper.

His eyes were frighteningly bright, and a strange, excited smile even lingered on his lips.

"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"

As Su Shi wrote, he muttered to himself, "When I wrote about Mei Chaofeng's appearance, I always felt that it lacked a bit of eerie and ghostly atmosphere."

"The headmaster said we needed to 'create a supportive environment,' and I was still wondering how to do that, and here it is!"

He took a deep breath, as if he were inhaling not bad luck, but inspiration.

"At three-quarters past midnight, the dungeon was damp and chilling to the bone. The scurrying of rats in the corner sounded like the wailing of ghosts and wolves… The atmosphere was absolutely perfect!"

The two burly men on guard looked at each other in bewilderment.

The one on the left has a face full of scars and is carrying a leather whip soaked in salt water; the one on the right is a one-eyed man with a butcher's knife at his waist.

The two had originally intended to teach this delicate-looking scholar a lesson, to give him a hard time. But now, instead of crying, the scholar was treating them like... scenery?

"Hey! You, surnamed Su!" The burly man with a face full of scars finally couldn't hold back any longer and lashed his whip against the iron railing with a crisp "crack."

"Behave yourself! This is the Wang family's private prison, not your study! Do you believe I'll beat you to death?"

Su Shi paused in his hand movements.

He slowly turned his head, looked the big man up and down, his brows furrowed slightly, and his eyes showed a hint of criticism and dissatisfaction.

"Hey you, your posture is wrong." Su Shi shook his head, looking at him with a disappointed expression.

The burly man was stunned: "What?"

"I say your whip-wielding technique is too amateurish." Su Shi stood up, patted the straw off his backside, walked to the iron railing, and gestured through the bars:

"Your whip strike just now relied entirely on brute force; it only made a sound but lacked any killing intent. The headmaster once said that a true master's move should be based on 'the intention preceding the brush'... oh no, it should be 'the intention preceding the whip'."

"Look, you should relax your shoulders, drop your elbows, and flick your wrists, like this—" Su Shi demonstrated a flicking motion with his wrist, his eyes suddenly turning sharp:

"This is the preliminary move of the 'Nine Yin White Bone Claw,' which is insidious, vicious, and impossible to defend against. Your wild swinging is at best like a cowherd."

The burly man's hand holding the whip froze in mid-air, and the fat on his face twitched twice.

He felt his professional dignity had been greatly insulted, but for some reason, looking at Su Shi's determined eyes, he also felt that he was really... a bit of an amateur.

"You...you shut up!" The one-eyed man snapped out of his daze, pulled out his butcher knife, and viciously slashed a string of sparks at the railing. "I don't care if you're a top scholar or whatever, if you utter another word, I'll cut your tongue out!"

"Ah, that's it!" Su Shi's eyes lit up, and he quickly leaned back on the rock to take notes. "Fierce eyes, vulgar language, and a knife that's rusty but not rusty—that's the standard setup for the street thugs in the 'Seven Freaks of Jiangnan'... no, I mean, street bullies."

"My brave warrior, keep that expression and don't move. Let me describe your one eye; it has a very weathered look."

One-Eyed Dragon: "..."

At that moment, the two kidnappers felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

They've kidnapped gambling addicts in debt, adulterous men, and even disobedient tenants. Every single one of them who came in cried and begged for mercy.

This Su Shi, however, was like a leader who came to inspect the work, and even scored their professional abilities!

"Gurgle..."

Just as the atmosphere reached an awkward stalemate, an untimely loud bang broke the silence.

Su Shi rubbed his stomach and sighed, "I'm starving after a whole night of running around. Do you two gentlemen have anything to eat?"

The burly man sneered, pulled a moldy bun as hard as a rock from his pocket, and casually tossed it into the cell: "Eat up! You should be grateful you have anything to eat. Do you expect delicacies?"

Su Shi picked up the steamed bun, weighed it in his hand, and curled his lip in disgust.

"Even a dog wouldn't eat this stuff." Su Shi casually tossed the steamed bun aside, then sat cross-legged, his eyes becoming unfocused. "Gentlemen, have you ever eaten beggar's chicken?"

The two kidnappers were stunned for a moment, and subconsciously swallowed.

"It was an unparalleled delicacy." Su Shi's voice became deep and magnetic, as if possessing some kind of magic:

"Select the plumpest and tenderest Sanhuang chickens, kill them, remove the feathers, and empty the internal organs. Then, stuff the chicken's cavity with shiitake mushrooms, fresh bamboo shoots, and shrimp, and then spread a special sauce on top..."

The private prison was quiet, with only Su Shi's vivid description echoing in the air.

"The most crucial step is to wrap the chicken in layers of lotus leaves, then cover it with a layer of yellow mud. Throw it into the fire and let it burn for half an hour."

Su Shi closed his eyes, as if the chicken was right in front of him. He took a deep breath: "When the yellow mud dries and cracks, crack open the mud shell, tear open the lotus leaf... tsk tsk, that steaming aroma can instantly enter your nose."

"The chicken is so tender it falls off the bone, and it's bursting with juice. One bite, and it's so delicious you'll want to swallow your tongue..."

"Gurgle..."

"Gurgle..."

This time, it wasn't Su Shi's stomach growling, but the two kidnappers outside the railing.

The burly man with a face full of scars wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, his eyes somewhat glazed over: "Really...really that delicious?"

"Why would I lie to you?" Su Shi shrugged. "This is what Huang Rong made for Hong Qigong in 'The Condor Heroes.' It's the most delicious food in the world."

"I was just about to include this in tomorrow's newspaper, what a pity!"