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

The air in the lecture hall seemed to freeze.

Ouyang Xiu's eyes, which had seen it all, were fixed on Jiang Lin, waiting for him to break the deadlock.

The question written on that piece of paper, seemingly simple, was actually a veiled attack on the heart: "In the current imperial examinations, scholars all follow the style of the Imperial Academy, their language ornate but their words devoid of substance. If the system is suddenly reformed, scholars across the land will likely be in uproar; if it is not reformed, the nation will have no capable talents. What should be done?"

This was a political dilemma that had troubled Ouyang Xiu for a long time. To change it would offend all the scholars in the land; not to change it would offend the emperor and the future of the Song Dynasty.

Jiang Lin glanced at it, casually tossed the paper back onto the table, and chuckled.

"Mr. Ouyang, you've got cause and effect backwards."

"Rebellious?" Ouyang Xiu frowned.

"You think the problem lies in the imperial examination system? Wrong." Jiang Lin held up a finger and shook it gently. "The problem lies at its source—education."

He stood up, walked to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and drew a simple pyramid.

"Current education is rote learning."

Jiang Lin pointed to the bottom of the pyramid, "The teacher teaches by rote, and the students memorize by rote. It's like filling a tattered sack with grain. No matter how full it is, it's still just a sack, it can't become a seed planter."

"A seed planter?" Ouyang Xiu heard a new word again. Although he didn't understand it, he was greatly shocked.

"True education should not be about 'imparting knowledge,' but about 'inspiring critical thinking.'"

Jiang Lin's voice suddenly rose, and his eyes became incredibly sharp:

"Basic education teaches literacy and classics, which is like laying the foundation for a sack—that's fine. But higher education must teach thinking, logic, and application!"

"Why is this question a dead end? Because all the test takers are 'repeating machines.' If you change the question, they will only memorize it in another way."

There is only one solution—

Jiang Lin turned around and wrote four large characters heavily on the blackboard: 【Practical Policy Discussion】.

"The imperial examinations shouldn't just be about who writes the most fancy essays, but about who can solve problems! If the exam tests water conservancy, have them calculate the cost of building river embankments; if it tests criminal law, have them solve difficult cases!"

"Let all those useless 'Imperial Academy style' writers fail the exams, and let those who can actually get things done rise to the top. Just make an example of them once, and the winds of change will naturally shift!"

"As for the scholars' uproar?" Jiang Lin sneered, speaking with extreme arrogance, "That's just the lament of the incompetent. Just listen to it and forget about it; why take it seriously?"

boom--!

Ouyang Xiu felt as if a thunderbolt had exploded in his mind.

That felt great! That felt so good!

He had been incredibly frustrated in the court for years, wanting to change things but afraid of offending people, wanting to take action but afraid of causing turmoil. But this young man saw right through him: since it's a festering sore, it has to be ripped out!

"The lament of the incompetent..."

Ouyang Xiu muttered to himself, then suddenly slapped his thigh, his face flushed with excitement, "Well said! Absolutely well said! Jiang Shanchang's words are truly enlightening!"

He took a deep breath, straightened his clothes, and solemnly bowed to Jiang Lin.

"Mr. Jiang, to be honest..."

Ouyang Xiu looked directly at Jiang Lin, his eyes no longer probing, but filled with sincerity. "I am Ouyang Xiu, the chief examiner for this special imperial examination."

Although Su Shi knew the plot beforehand, he still opened his mouth wide and acted out a "I'm so shocked" expression.

Jiang Lin raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise as he stood up to return the greeting: "So it's Lord Ouyang in person! This humble subject has been disrespectful."

What he was really thinking was: "Old Ou, you've finally come clean. I've been playing along with you for ages."

"Ignorance is no excuse."

Ouyang Xiu waved his hand, finding Jiang Lin increasingly pleasing to the eye. "Hearing your words today is more valuable than reading for ten years. When I return to the capital, I will certainly speak to the Emperor and have this 'practical policy essay' included in the main examination topics!"

At this point, Ouyang Xiu was in a great mood. He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and suddenly his eyes lit up.

"but……"

Ouyang Xiu put down his teacup, looking at Jiang Lin with a half-smile. "Mr. Jiang, your theories are so insightful. I wonder if your practical skills are as impressive as your words?"

coming.

Jiang Lin's heart skipped a beat. This was the legendary "I'll test you again."

"What do you want to test, sir?" Jiang Lin asked calmly.

"article."

Ouyang Xiu pointed out the window.

It was late autumn, almost early winter. The leaves of the sycamore trees in the courtyard had turned yellow and fallen, and the evening wind rustled through them.

"When ancient people lamented autumn, it was mostly in the manner of children who were saddened by the passing of spring and the coming of autumn."

Ouyang Xiu's gaze was intense. "I've heard that Mr. Jiang is a man of exceptional talent. Today, I'd like to ask you to compose a poem on the theme of 'Autumn Sounds.' What do you say?"

Upon hearing this, Su Shi's expression immediately turned strange.

To compose a poem? To have the gentleman compose a poem?

Doesn't this old man Ouyang Xiu know that his master's greatest skill is "borrowing"... oh no, it's "finding inspiration in a dream"?

Jiang Lin laughed.

He looked at Ouyang Xiu with an extremely strange...sympathy in his eyes.

Historically, Ouyang Xiu himself wrote "Ode to the Autumn Sounds," just a few years later. Now, having him write it ahead of time and slap it in the face of the original author—wouldn't that be considered a kind of "dimensional reduction attack" caused by a time paradox?

"Since Your Excellency has given the order, how dare this humble subject disobey?"

Jiang Lin walked to the desk and rolled up his sleeves.

"Grind the ink."

Su Shi ran over excitedly and skillfully ground the ink and laid out the paper.

Ouyang Xiu stood to the side with his hands behind his back. As the leading figure in the literary world, he had extremely high standards. He wanted to see what kind of articles this young man, who had dismissed the "Imperial Academy style" as worthless, could actually write.

Jiang Lin picked up his brush and dipped it in thick ink.

He closed his eyes and gathered his emotions for a moment.

The wind howled outside the window, seemingly providing accompaniment for this moment.

The brush falls, the ink spreads.

The very first sentence was earth-shattering—

"Ouyang Zifang was reading at night when he heard a sound coming from the southwest. Startled, he listened intently and exclaimed, 'How strange!'"

Ouyang Xiu, who was standing to the side, paused for a moment when he saw the first three characters, "Ouyang Zi".

Is this... written from my perspective?

This young man is interesting.

But he didn't say anything and continued reading.

"At first, it pattered softly, then suddenly surged and roared, like waves crashing in the night, or a sudden storm. When it struck anything, it clanged and rang, like metal striking metal; it was also like soldiers rushing to the enemy, running swiftly with gags in their mouths, without any orders, only the sound of men and horses moving."

Ouyang Xiu's pupils suddenly contracted.

A true expert's skill is immediately apparent.

This description of sound is simply divine! From the subtle "drizzling" to the grand "rushing," and then to the specific "the clanging of metal" and "running swiftly with gags in its mouth."

This isn't just describing the sound of the wind; it's clearly describing a massive army!

The vivid imagery, the grandeur, the mastery of language…

Ouyang Xiu felt his scalp begin to tingle, and a current shot up his spine to the top of his head.

He instinctively held his breath, afraid of disturbing the "gods" in Jiang Lin's writing.

Jiang Lin's brushstrokes flowed like dragons and snakes, without any pause.

He wrote about the desolation of autumn, the withering of plants, and then, with a final turn, pointed directly to the human heart—

"Plants and trees are inanimate, and sometimes they wither and fall. Humans are animals, the most intelligent of all creatures; a hundred worries trouble their hearts, and ten thousand things weary their bodies; when something stirs within them, their spirit is shaken."

"How can something of a nature not made of metal or stone contend for glory with grass and trees? Who is it that has harmed it? And what is there to resent in the sound of autumn?"

When Jiang Lin finished writing the last character and threw the pen down on the table.

The lecture hall was deathly silent.

Only the sound of the wind outside the window continued to howl in response.

Ouyang Xiu stared blankly at the still-wet Xuan paper, his whole being like a stone sculpture.

After a long while.

"How can I, with a substance not of metal or stone, contend for glory with grass and trees..."

As Ouyang Xiu murmured these two lines, his eyes actually reddened.

This isn't about autumn at all; it's clearly about himself! It's a true reflection of his life's ups and downs in officialdom, and his exhaustion!

"A masterpiece...this is a masterpiece!"

Ouyang Xiu suddenly raised his head, looked at Jiang Lin who had a calm expression (actually, he was just putting on airs), and his voice trembled uncontrollably.

"Mr. Jiang..."

Ouyang Xiu took a deep breath and made a move that terrified Su Shi and his pageboy—

He straightened his clothes, bowed deeply to Jiang Lin, who was twenty years younger than him, his waist bent to the brim.

"After this article was published, there were no more works in the world that wrote about autumn."

"Ouyang Xiu...I'm impressed!"