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

Inside the private room of Fanlou, the atmosphere was tense, and one could even smell the restlessness left by the evaporation of strong liquor.

Li Liangzuo was thoroughly enraged by Jiang Lin's nonchalant attitude. He slammed his fist on the table, making the cups and saucers rattle: "Fine! So be it! I've been skilled in archery and horsemanship since childhood, able to draw a three-stone bow and hit a willow leaf from a hundred paces! I'd like to see what kind of skill this pedantic scholar of the Great Song has to defeat me!"

He glanced around with disdain and smugness, his gaze finally settling on Jiang Lin. The Western Xia people were martial, while the scholars of the Song Dynasty were mostly weak and powerless. In Li Liangzuo's view, the "competition" alone was enough to crush this pretentious masked man into the mud.

Jiang Lin simply nodded noncommittally, his eyes behind the mask calm and even languid: "Oh, physical labor, huh? To be honest, I'm terrified of pain, and I'm completely clueless about archery and horsemanship. But..."

He paused slightly, his slender fingers tapping rhythmically twice on the mahogany table: "I can make the orange candlelight throughout this building change color instantly with a single command."

"Ridiculous!" Li Liangzuo laughed as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. He threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Are you a magician performing tricks under a bridge? Or do you really think you're a god who can summon wind and rain?"

"Whether it's magic or not, the prince will know once he tries it."

Jiang Lin didn't waste any words. With a slight flick of his wide sleeves, he silently pulled a small packet of powder from his sleeve pocket. It was "specially made fireworks powder" that Shen Kuo had just concocted a couple of days ago—a mixture of refined copper powder and several specific metal salts. There was still a little bit left over from when he was playing tricks at Ghost Cry Garden.

Jiang Lin flicked his wrist, and the powder, like a fine mist, was precisely sprinkled onto the nearby intertwined bronze candlestick.

With a soft "whoosh," it sounded as if a vengeful ghost had gasped for breath.

The originally warm orange candlelight suddenly flared up three feet the moment it came into contact with the powder, and the center of the flame abruptly turned into a dark, eerie green! Then, a bewitching purplish-red color rolled out of the green flame in a strange way.

The once magnificent private room of Fanlou was suddenly transformed by bizarre and surreal light and shadow, making everyone's faces appear alternately green and purple, as if they were in a ghostly realm.

"Protect the prince!"

Several Western Xia guards were terrified and retreated repeatedly. Some even drew their scimitars with a clang, their blades trembling as they faced the void.

Even the usually arrogant Li Liangzuo was horrified and stood up abruptly, so quickly that he knocked over the couch behind him. He stared at Jiang Lin with suspicion and uncertainty, a layer of sweat beading on his forehead.

In later generations, this was nothing more than a flame reaction that even a junior high school student could understand; but in the Song Dynasty, it was definitely "demonic magic," a "supernatural power" that seized the creation of heaven and earth!

"A mere trick, Your Highness will find it laughable." Jiang Lin chuckled and waved his sleeve again.

As the powder burned out, the flame flickered a few times before slowly returning to its normal orange-yellow color. Warm light filled the private room once more, but the fear in the eyes of the Western Xia people remained undiminished.

"The competition is over. It's my turn to ask a question." Jiang Lin leaned forward slightly, his eyes behind the mask locking onto Li Liangzuo like a hawk's. His voice was extremely low, yet it possessed a bewitching charm. "I have something that is the symbol of the orthodox Chinese tradition, a certificate of divine mandate. Possessing it can bring peace to the world and pacify the eight wastelands. Do you have it?"

Li Liangzuo's heart skipped a beat, a strange chill creeping up his spine to the back of his head. He narrowed his eyes, his breathing becoming labored: "You... what are you talking about?"

Jiang Lin parted his lips slightly and uttered four words, one after another: "The Imperial Seal of the Nation".

The moment those four words were uttered, the air in the private room seemed to be instantly sucked out, leaving a deathly silence.

Li Liangzuo's pupils contracted sharply, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty. Although the Western Xia had established a kingdom and declared itself an empire, the Central Plains dynasties had always regarded them as barbarians and traitors. What they lacked most was this supreme symbol that could prove their "legitimacy" and "mandate of heaven"!

If he could obtain the Imperial Seal of the State, even if he only took it back to Xingqing Prefecture for a glance, his prestige in the Western Xia Kingdom would instantly soar to the top, and those domineering maternal clan forces and those unruly tribal leaders would all have to kneel at his feet!

"You... what nonsense are you spouting!" Li Liangzuo tried his best to maintain his composure, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. "That legendary artifact was lost as early as the end of the Tang Dynasty, how could it be..."

"A legend?" Jiang Lin chuckled, his long, slender fingers dipping in wine as he casually drew a circle on the table. "Last night, a dragon's roar suddenly emanated from the dry well at Xiangguo Temple, and a five-colored golden light shot into the sky, illuminating half of the inner city. If the prince doesn't believe it, he can send his men, who only know how to draw their swords, to inquire about it on the streets."

At this point, Jiang Lin stood up, straightened his clothes, and looked down at Li Liangzuo: "Oh, by the way, my junior brother is well-versed in the principles of the I Ching. He calculated that this object's appearance was solely to find a 'destined person.' If someone without that destiny tries to force it, they will surely be punished by heaven and die without a burial place."

Li Liangzuo's heart began to pound uncontrollably. Last night... Yeli Yuqi had indeed mentioned to him that there were strange phenomena at Xiangguo Temple, with frequent troop movements. At the time, he was preoccupied with how to humiliate the Song emperor and his ministers, and hadn't taken it seriously at all.

Could it be... true?!

At this moment, the whispers of the people downstairs could be faintly heard in the lobby, as if they were discussing something like "Xiangguo Temple," "miracle," and "treasure."

Seeing that the situation was ripe, Jiang Lin said no more: "We've drunk our fill of wine and boasted our way through today. Li Liangzuo, you want to marry my Song princess? Fine. But your brute force alone won't do. If even 'Heaven's Mandate' isn't on your side, this marriage might not be possible."

Having said that, he turned nimbly and strode onto the railing of the private room. Amid the gasps of the Western Xia people, he leaped into the vast night like a night bird, leaving only a crisp, cold laugh in the wind.

Jiang Lin's charade and his dramatic exit brought the atmosphere at Fanlou to its peak, and also planted a seed of "greed" deep in Li Liangzuo's heart.

Back at the inn, Li Liangzuo paced back and forth in his room like a hungry wolf trapped in a cage, his eyes bloodshot. His mind was filled with those four words, exuding a deadly allure.

"Investigate! Investigate immediately!" Li Liangzuo finally couldn't hold back any longer and roared angrily at his trusted general, Yeli Yuqi, "Go to Xiangguo Temple! No matter how much money you spend or how many people you kill, find out everything that happened last night! And that masked guy, dig three feet into the ground and find out his background!"

Yeli Yuqi, with a pained expression, glanced at the midnight sky outside the window: "Prince, the city is under curfew now, it's the middle of the night..."

"Go now! Take all our spies!" Li Liangzuo grabbed Yeli Yuqi by the collar, his face contorted. "If we're even a moment late, and the Song imperial family or someone else gets there first, I'll skin you alive!"

Li Liangzuo's madness fell squarely into the giant net that Jiang Lin had woven beforehand.

At this moment, outside the Xiangguo Temple, Jiang Lin's "Bianjing Beggars' Gang Special Intelligence Network," which he had arranged long ago, was already in place. Several ragged but superbly acting beggars were huddled in a sheltered corner, vividly describing the "miracle" of the previous night to a few passing night watchmen (who were also accomplices).

"I swear! I saw it with my own eyes! The light coming out of that dry well was multicolored, it almost blinded my old eyes! There was even a dragon roaring inside, howling, just like the real thing!"

"Come on, that well's been dry for over a decade!"

"It's because they did it that it's considered miraculous! My cousin, who works in the inner city, said that the God of Literature has appeared and is bringing back the national treasure that our Great Song Dynasty lost for hundreds of years!"

When Yeli Yuqi, along with several of the most skilled Xixia spies, sneaked up to the vicinity of Xiangguo Temple like thieves, they heard these rumors, carefully crafted by Jiang Lin and consisting of seven parts truth and three parts falsehood.

What terrified Yeli Yuqi even more was that when he peered over the wall, he saw that the backyard of Xiangguo Temple was indeed sealed off by a large number of Imperial City Guards and monks armed with clubs! Layer upon layer, torches illuminated the backyard as bright as day, and he could vaguely see several people digging something nervously beside the legendary dry well.

Everything seemed to confirm that terrifying yet alluring conjecture.