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

A camp for disaster victims in the western suburbs of Bianjing.

Unlike the lifeless, despairing, and numb scene of a few days ago, the camp is now bustling with activity.

Thousands of disaster victims, organized by students from the academy such as Han Zhen and Zhou Yuan, were divided into different construction teams.

Some were leveling the land, some were building shacks, some were digging ditches, and some were weaving straw mats.

Everyone's face was covered in sweat, but their eyes had a renewed light of hope.

Because they are no longer beggars sitting and waiting to die, but workers earning a living with their own hands.

Twenty coins a day, enough for two hearty meals of white flour buns. Such treatment was an unimaginable luxury during a year of famine.

In the center of the camp, a huge soup kitchen had been set up. But instead of soup, they were distributing wages.

Qian Duoduo, accompanied by several accountants, sat behind a table, each holding a roster in one hand and an abacus in the other, extremely busy.

"Zhang San, carpenter team, full attendance today, wages thirty cash, sign and affix your seal!"

"Li Si, you're in the earthmoving team. You missed half a day today. Your wages are ten coins. If you slack off again, you're fired!"

Everything was orderly and meticulous.

Not far away, Zhao Lingjun, accompanied by several women, was at a makeshift medical station, helping the doctors brought by Shen Kuo to distribute herbs and treat wounds to sick disaster victims.

She had completely abandoned her princess airs, dressed in ordinary linen clothes. Although her face looked tired, her eyes were exceptionally bright.

The situation at the Imperial Academy, however, was completely different.

Following Jiang Lin's example, Chen Dong, Wang Fu, and others set up a disaster relief point at the other end of the camp.

Through family connections, they managed to raise some money and food. But the only solution they could think of was to set up porridge stalls and distribute it to the poor.

As a result, something went wrong on the very first day.

Thousands of starving disaster victims went wild at the sight of the white rice porridge. They swarmed forward, overturning the porridge pots and tables, and even trampling and fighting broke out as they scrambled for the spilled rice soup.

Chen Dong and his fellow scholars, who were all too weak to even kill a chicken, had never seen anything like this before. They were so terrified that they nearly wet themselves and were torn to pieces by the frenzied crowd.

Finally, it was Niu Aihua, who rushed over upon hearing the news, who led a group of people and used a machete to knock down several troublemakers who were leading the disturbance, before they were able to barely control the situation.

After this battle, the Imperial Academy's "Martial Debate" became a complete joke.

Chen Dong and the others completely lost their spirit. Every day they would just send people over to symbolically distribute some food, and then hide in the city, no longer daring to come to the disaster camp.

The outcome is already decided.

Jiang Lin stood on a high slope outside the camp, quietly watching all of this.

Su Shi stood beside him, filled with emotion.

"Headmaster, I finally understand why you said 'practice makes perfect.' Chen Dong and his colleagues have read more books than any of us, but they are so easily defeated when faced with real reality."

Jiang Lin smiled, neither confirming nor denying.

"Zizhan, do you think we won?"

"Of course we won!" Su Shi said without hesitation. "Whether it was literary debate or martial debate, the Imperial Academy was utterly defeated. Now the entire city of Bianjing is praising the 'practical learning' of the Academy of Statecraft, and the threshold of the Imperial Academy is almost worn down by those who have dropped out."

"No." Jiang Lin shook his head, his gaze becoming profound.

"We've only won in terms of face, not substance. The real enemy isn't Chen Dong and his bunch of bookworms."

He gazed in the direction of Bianjing City, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes.

"That venomous snake hiding in the shadows should be getting restless by now."

……

The Prince of Jing's Mansion.

Zhao Xi sat in the study with a gloomy expression, listening to his subordinates' report.

"Your Highness, Jiang Lin's 'Introduction to Mathematics and the Investigation of Things' is selling like hotcakes. Now, all the children in Bianjing are learning his arithmetic."

"Your Highness, Jiang Lin's 'work-for-relief' program in the disaster relief camps has been a great success. Even the Emperor publicly praised him in the court."

"Your Highness, Ouyang Xiu and Sima Guang are arguing fiercely about whether or not to add a 'mathematics' subject to the Imperial Academy. More and more officials are supporting Ouyang Xiu."

With each piece of news she heard, Zhao Xi's expression grew increasingly grim.

In just half a month, Jiang Lin, whom he considered a "country bumpkin," had already stirred up a huge wave in Bianjing City.

His reputation was at its zenith.

His influence has spread from the common people to the imperial court.

What terrified him most was that everything Jiang Lin did was based on the moral high ground of "serving the country and the people," leaving him with no excuse to attack.

On the contrary, he himself was hesitant and passive in every situation because of that damned "purple mark".

After returning from the brick kiln that day, he tried every method imaginable, even finding fresh pig's blood and locking himself in a secret room to scrub himself all night. But the eerie purple light still stubbornly lingered between his fingers, appearing and disappearing intermittently.

It was like a Damocles' sword hanging over his head, making him restless and unable to eat or sleep.

He knew this was Jiang Lin's warning to him.

He couldn't wait any longer.

If Jiang Lin continues down this path, he will eventually turn the entire Song Dynasty upside down. At that time, not only will he, as a prince, be subject to Jiang Lin's whims, but even the emperor on the throne will likely have to act according to his wishes.

"Jiang Lin... must die."

A ruthless killing intent flashed in Zhao Xi's eyes.

Since we can't do anything to you openly, we'll have to resort to underhanded methods.

He spoke in a deep voice to the shadows in the corner, "Go, summon 'Shadow'."

A moment later, a figure completely shrouded in a black robe, whose face was obscured, appeared silently in the center of the study like a ghost.

"Your Highness." The voice of the man in black robes was hoarse, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

"I don't care what methods you use," Zhao Xi's voice was icy cold. "I want Jiang Lin to disappear from this world. Do it cleanly, leave no trace of the Prince's Mansion."

"Yes." The man in black robes didn't ask any more questions. With a flash, he disappeared back into the shadows, as if he had never been there.

Zhao Xi looked at the empty study, her eyes shifting uncertainly.

Killing Jiang Lin alone is not enough.

Jingshi Academy has already become quite influential. Killing Jiang Lin would only make him a deified "martyr," which would actually allow his doctrines to spread even further.

We must find a way to ruin Jingshi Academy as well.

His gaze fell on a list on the table.

That was the list of the privileged children of Jianglin Academy.

Han Zhen, Zhou Yuan, Li Gefei...

One name after another flashed before his eyes.

Suddenly, his finger stopped on the name "Zhou Yuan".

Zhou Yuan's father was Zhou Boyan, a Vice Minister of State Affairs. This man was always timid and cowardly, and an opportunist. After Wu and Cai fell from power, he was the first to jump out and draw a line between himself and Jiang Lin, and the first to spend a lot of money to send his son to the Jingshi Academy to curry favor with Jiang Lin.

Such people are the most vulnerable and easily bullied.

A sinister smile curled at the corner of Zhao Xi's mouth.

He had a plan to kill two birds with one stone.