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

Winter in Runzhou City is damp and chilly to the bone.

An inconspicuous blue-canopied carriage, without alerting the yamen runners, quietly stopped at the entrance of the alley where Jingshi Academy was located.

The carriage curtain was lifted, and an old man wearing an old sheepskin cloak stepped out.

His face was thin and his beard was somewhat gray, but his eyes were not clouded by age; instead, they revealed a clarity and sharpness that came from having seen it all.

However, at this moment, Ouyang Xiu, the towering figure of the Song Dynasty's literary world, was shivering from the damp and cold air of Jiangnan.

"Achoo!"

Ouyang Xiu rubbed his nose, which was red from the cold, and looked up at the simple courtyard deep in the alley.

"My lord... no, master."

The pageboy trotted over, looking at the so-called "prestigious school" with disdain. "This is the legendary Jingshi Academy? It's so shabby! There aren't even any decent stone lions, and the walls are just ordinary blue bricks."

In Bianjing, every slightly famous academy is lavishly decorated and bustling with visitors. But here, it's as deserted as a Taoist temple.

"Too talkative."

Ouyang Xiu glared at his page, then pulled his cloak tighter. "A mountain is not famous for its height, but for the immortals who dwell there. If simply renovating a place could produce a top scholar, wouldn't Fanlou (the most luxurious restaurant in Bianjing) become the Imperial Academy?"

The pageboy shrank back, not daring to utter another sound.

"Let's go knock on the door."

Ouyang Xiu straightened his clothes and stepped forward. He was traveling incognito today, only wanting to see the true face of this "Emperor of the Land," and had no intention of putting on airs.

……

The academy gate creaked open.

There was no difficult doorman as I had imagined, nor any arrogant "all spots are full, no guests will be seen" attitude.

The person standing at the door to greet us was an excessively young man.

He was dressed in a thin blue robe, but incongruously held an exquisite bronze hand warmer in his hands, exuding an indescribable air of languor.

Jiang Lin's eyelids twitched the moment he saw Ouyang Xiu.

Although I had seen portraits in textbooks in my previous life, seeing a real person still felt a bit unreal.

Is this the great writer who penned "The Story of the Drunken Old Man's Pavilion"?

This is the literary leader who won't be holding a "thousand-person conference" in Luoyang for several more years.

Although his mind was frantically scrolling through comments like "Holy crap, we saw him alive!", Jiang Lin remained remarkably composed on the surface. He didn't perform the full kneeling ceremony; he simply bowed slightly, performing the ordinary scholar's greeting of a junior meeting a senior.

"I apologize for failing to greet our guests who have come from afar."

Ouyang Xiu was also sizing up Jiang Lin.

too young.

He looked to be only twenty-four or twenty-five years old, fair-skinned and refined, not like a strict teacher, but more like a rich young master who was just coasting along. Especially the way he held the hand warmer, it looked so pathetic.

This is the teacher who produced such an unconventional scholar as Su Shi?

"My surname is Ouyang. I am passing through Runzhou and have long admired Jiang Lin's great reputation, so I have come to ask for a cup of tea." Ouyang Xiu returned the greeting with a cupped hand, but his eyes were like two knives, scraping over Jiang Lin.

"Mr. Ouyang, you're too kind."

Jiang Lin stepped aside and gestured for him to enter, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Since you're here, it must be fate. Please come in."

……

Upon entering the lecture hall, Ouyang Xiu was stunned.

Outside, the wind howled, but inside the house it was warm and cozy.

There was no smoky smell of charcoal brazier, the air was fresh, and the temperature was so even it made him want to sleep. He looked down and saw that the floor was warm—it was an underfloor heating system?

Goodness, this academy looks shabby, but inside it's understatedly luxurious.

"Please have a seat, sir."

Jiang Lin sat casually in the main seat, not appearing reserved despite the other person's age. Su Shi fawned over him, serving up freshly brewed pre-Qingming Longjing tea.

The aroma of tea filled the air, and the steam rose high.

Ouyang Xiu picked up his teacup, took a sip, and his eyes lit up. Excellent tea! The quality of this tea leaves was even better than the tribute tea he drank at the Hanlin Academy.

"Good tea."

Ouyang Xiu put down his teacup and finally got to the point, "Jiangshan is a long-standing country, and I am a straightforward person. I have come here today because there is something I do not understand."

Jiang Lin fiddled with the hand warmer, looking at him with a smile: "Please ask, sir."

"I heard that your students swept the top three spots in the prefectural examination."

Ouyang Xiu's gaze was intense. "Some say it's luck, some say it's cheating. I want to know, how did Jiang Shanchang manage to train several unknown youths into such a remarkable figure in just six months?"

The interview has already started?

Jiang Lin chuckled inwardly. This old man really is an impatient person.

"It's just luck."

Jiang Lin replied casually, "It just so happens that the exam questions were all ones they knew how to answer, and it just so happens that the examiners liked their handwriting, that's all."

"luck?"

Ouyang Xiu sneered, clearly dissatisfied with this perfunctory answer. "If it was luck once, then was the previous county examination also luck? Jiang Shanchang, excessive modesty is hypocrisy."

"What does Mr. Ouyang think is the reason?"

Jiang Lin countered with a question, leaning slightly forward. His languid demeanor suddenly vanished, revealing a sharp edge.

Ouyang Xiu stared into his eyes: "I have read their articles. 'Strategies for Enriching the Country and Strengthening the Army' is logically rigorous and could not have been written by someone without profound experience; 'Looking South of the Yangtze River' has a profound artistic conception and could not have been written by someone without exceptional inspiration."

"These things cannot be learned by simply reading books."

"Jiang Shanchang, what exactly are you teaching them?"

The lecture hall suddenly fell silent.

Su Shi, who was standing to the side, was about to say a few words to praise his teacher, but Jiang Lin stopped him with a look.

Jiang Lin stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the plum tree standing proudly in the snow in the courtyard.

"Mr. Ouyang, since you've asked, I'll ask you a question too."

Jiang Lin turned around and looked directly at the leader of the Song Dynasty's literary world. There was no fear in his eyes, but rather a profoundness that transcended time.

In your opinion, what constitutes true education?

Ouyang Xiu was taken aback.

He was the chief examiner, a leader in the literary world, and he had always been the one testing others. Yet today, he was being tested by a mere young upstart?

"educate……"

After a moment's thought, Ouyang Xiu gave a standard Confucian answer: "To impart knowledge, teach skills, and resolve doubts. To teach people to understand principles, cultivate themselves, regulate their families, govern the state, and bring peace to the world."

That's the goal, not the method.

Jiang Lin shook his head, a smile playing on his lips that said, "You're still too young."

"The Imperial Academy and private schools of today teach only 'existing knowledge.' They chew up the words of the ancients and feed them to students, turning them into memorization machines."

"A repeater?" Ouyang Xiu frowned. What a strange word.

"It's just parroting."

Jiang Lin didn't explain, and continued, "But what I teach is 'incremental'."

"I don't teach them what to think, I only teach them how to think."

"In today's world, there are countless scholars, but how many can see through appearances to the essence?"

Jiang Lin's voice wasn't loud, but every word struck Ouyang Xiu like a hammer blow: "Mr. Ouyang, isn't your dislike of the Imperial Academy style precisely because those essays are ornate yet empty?"

"They are empty-headed because they have no brains, only bookish knowledge."

boom!

Ouyang Xiu suddenly stood up.

He stared at the young man before him in shock. These words struck a chord deep within him! Wasn't his promotion of the Classical Prose Movement and opposition to the Western Kun Style precisely to ensure that writing had "substance"?

"Teach thinking...not knowledge..."

Ouyang Xiu muttered to himself, his eyes flashing with a sharp light, "What a wonderful way to teach thinking! Jiang Shanchang, since we've come this far, I won't hold back anymore."

"I actually brought a question with me on this trip south."

Ouyang Xiu took out a neatly folded piece of paper from his sleeve, his expression becoming extremely solemn.

"I've heard that Jiang Shanchang is a man of exceptional talent; would you dare to solve this problem on the spot?"

"If you can solve this problem, I will believe in your 'teaching of thinking'!"

Jiang Lin looked at the paper and raised an eyebrow.

Is this how a battle of wits begins?

He smiled, sat back down in the wicker chair, and even stretched out one leg comfortably.

"Since Mr. Ouyang is in such a good mood, then I, Jiang, will keep you company."