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

The entire courtyard was completely silent.

Zhou Yuan's face flushed red, his lips trembled, and he wanted to retort, but found himself unable to utter a single word. Jiang Lin's words were like a knife, stripping away his proud "refined" facade and revealing the pale and ignorant core beneath.

He had always thought himself superior to those peasants because he was educated and knew proper etiquette. But now he realized that in Jiang Lin's eyes, a scholar like him, who was ignorant of basic necessities and lazy in physical labor, was the real good-for-nothing.

In the crowd, Han Zhen, who had been silent all along, stepped forward and bowed deeply to Jiang Lin.

"Student, I have learned something."

After saying that, he walked to the corner of the yard without saying a word, picked up a wooden bucket and a wooden spoon, and turned to walk out.

"Where are you going?" Jiang Lin asked.

"The students should go find a latrine collector. If no one is willing to collect it, the students will clean people's latrines themselves." Han Zhen's answer was calm, without the slightest hesitation.

He was originally an unfavored illegitimate son of a military family, and had seen far more of the sordid affairs of the lower classes than these young masters. What Jiang Lin said was a harsh insult to others, but to him it was a resounding truth.

How can someone who doesn't even understand human suffering go to the front lines to fight the enemy and defend their country?

Han Zhen's actions were like a resounding slap in the face to everyone.

Zhou Yuan's face turned pale and then red. He looked at Han Zhen's resolute departing figure, then at Jiang Lin's eyes that seemed to see through everything, and his heart was in turmoil.

Get out? He can't get out.

With Wu Chong and Cai Jing's downfall, everyone in the Bianjing officialdom felt insecure. His father had gone to great lengths and exhausted the family fortune to get him into the Jingshi Academy, hoping for a "get-out-of-jail-free card." If he were to leave now, not only would his own future be ruined, but the entire Zhou family could be implicated.

Compared to one's future and the fate of one's family, what does a little bit of face matter?

With a "thump".

Zhou Yuan's knees buckled, and he knelt down in front of Jiang Lin.

"Headmaster, I was wrong! I'm willing to go! I'll go right now!"

His kneeling was like toppling the first domino.

The other young men looked at each other, and finally, they all lost heart and knelt down dejectedly.

"The student knows he was wrong."

"Please, Headmaster, don't send us away."

Jiang Lin looked at the kneeling boys, his face expressionless.

"Remember, this isn't punishment, it's homework. If you don't do well, you're fired."

He waved his hand, as if shooing away flies.

"Go ahead, everyone."

……

After the group of young masters, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, left in twos and threes, the courtyard finally became quiet.

Zhao Lingjun came out of the house, holding a bowl of freshly heated lotus seed soup, and handed it to Jiang Lin.

"Headmaster, that's a really underhanded move of yours." She smiled. "I can already imagine how the entire elite circle of Bianjing will talk about you, the 'Devil Headmaster,' tomorrow."

Jiang Lin took the bowl, took a sip, and found it sweet and warming to his stomach.

"Let them talk. I just happen to need people to promote it for free," he said nonchalantly. "The threshold for Jingshi Academy has to be so high that they feel it's an honor to be able to get in. Even if they come in to shovel manure, it's still bringing glory to their ancestors."

"Aren't you afraid of driving them all to rebellion?" Zhao Lingjun was still a little worried.

"Don't be afraid." Jiang Lin shook his head. "The Wu and Cai cases are like a knife hanging over everyone's neck. Now, Jingshi Academy is their only lifeline. To survive, let alone shoveling excrement, they would even have to hold their noses and swallow it down if they were forced to eat it."

He looked at Zhao Lingjun, his eyes becoming serious.

"Lingjun, you're going too."

"Huh?" Zhao Lingjun was stunned. "I'm going too?"

"Yes." Jiang Lin nodded. "You don't actually have to shovel excrement, but you must follow them, observe them, and record their experiences. You are a princess; your status determines that your perspective on issues is different from others. What I want you to write is not a report on the 'excrement industry,' but a report on 'human nature.'"

"I want you to see what these usually high-and-mighty chosen ones will become after all their halos are stripped away and thrown into the dirtiest environment. Who will take shortcuts, who will complain and blame others, who will silently endure, and who will find true value in such an environment."

"These people may all become your subjects in the future. It won't hurt you to learn about them in advance."

Zhao Lingjun nodded thoughtfully. She understood that Jiang Lin was not just giving a lesson, but also conducting a large-scale experiment on human nature.

And she was the chief observer of this experiment.

"Okay, I understand," she replied solemnly.

In a corner, Shen Kuo was squatting on the ground, fiddling with a bunch of bottles and jars, muttering to himself.

"Headmaster, should I prepare some 'powerful deodorizer' for them? And some 'mosquito repellent aromatherapy'? I recently developed one using extracts from Murraya paniculata and Artemisia argyi, and it works exceptionally well!"

Jiang Lin glanced at him and said irritably, "What's there to pair! We're going to make them stink! We're going to make them get bitten by mosquitoes! With all that free time, you should think about how to further reduce the cost of movable type printing."

"Mountain type printing?" Shen Kuo's eyes lit up instantly. "Headmaster, you mean... the clay movable type that Bi Sheng made? That stuff is troublesome to fire and it's easy to break. It's not very practical."

"Who told you to use clay?" Jiang Lin rolled his eyes at him. "Those top-quality boxwood and pear wood confiscated from Cai Jing and Wu Chong's homes are just sitting in the warehouse getting moldy. Don't you know how to use them? Movable type, don't you understand?"

"Wooden movable type?" Shen Kuo slapped his thigh. "That's right! How come I didn't think of that! Wood is easy to carve, lightweight, and can be reused! Headmaster is brilliant!"

He immediately dropped the pile of bottles and jars he was holding and ran off excitedly.

Jiang Lin watched his retreating figure and shook his head helplessly. This guy really gets things quickly, but he just needs someone to point him in the right direction.

The Song Dynasty's technological development had already gone astray enough. Before Bi Sheng's clay-based movable type had even become widespread, wooden movable type was already going to be invented decades ahead of schedule.

However, this is exactly what he wanted.

What he wants to establish is not just an academy.

What he wanted to do was an intellectual enlightenment movement. And this movement needed the cheapest and fastest means of dissemination.

Wooden movable type printing was his first weapon.

And that "excrement industry report," soon to be written in blood, tears, and stench by the sons of the powerful and wealthy, will be the first shot fired by this weapon.

He wanted to show all the scholars in Bianjing, and even the entire Song Dynasty, what true "learning" really was.