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

Inside the lecture hall, the scent of ink lingered, with only the faint sound of candles crackling.

Ouyang Xiu held the ink-stained Xuan paper, his hands trembling as if he were being shaken. He read it over and over again, and with each glance at the words, the shock in his heart deepened.

Especially the opening line, "Ouyang Zifang reads at night."

"Mr. Jiang..."

Ouyang Xiu finally raised his head, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions—the elation of seeing a priceless treasure, and an indescribable bewilderment. "This writing is exquisite, every word a gem, perfectly capturing the melancholy of autumn. I am truly in awe. But… why does the very first sentence refer to 'Ouyang Zi'?"

If someone else were to write an article as a gift to him, they would most likely write "Presented to Lord Ouyang" or "Thoughts on listening to Lord Ouyang read at night." Directly using the first person is a major taboo in literary circles, and could even be considered an offense.

But in Ouyang Xiu's eyes at this moment, this was not an offense at all, but rather a kind of...destined harmony.

Jiang Lin put down his brush, took the hot tea that Su Shi handed him, and blew on it casually.

"If I told you that I dreamt about you writing this last night, would you believe me?"

Jiang Lin wore his usual charlatan-like smile. "In my dream, I saw you reading late at night, listening to the sounds of autumn, and inspired by them, you wrote this piece. When I woke up, I found the imagery exquisite, so I wrote it down. Today, seeing you give me this topic, it's perfect for 'borrowing flowers to offer to Buddha'."

"Obtained from a dream?"

Ouyang Xiu's eyes widened.

The reason sounded absurd, and if someone else had said it, he would have thought it was nonsense. But looking at the article in front of him, which seemed to have been dug out from the depths of his soul, he felt that apart from "dream transmission" or "divine gift," he really couldn't find any other explanation.

"If this article were to be circulated, it would surely become a timeless masterpiece."

Ouyang Xiu took a deep breath, his expression solemn. "Mr. Jiang, I have a request. Although this article was written by you, it reflects my own state of mind. Could you... allow me to take it back to the capital?"

He was too embarrassed to say directly, "This article is mine," since it was someone else's calligraphy.

Jiang Lin laughed, a very casual laugh.

"Lord Ouyang, you are wrong again."

Jiang Lin stood up and gently pushed the priceless sheet of Xuan paper in front of Ouyang Xiu. "This article originally belonged to you. I was merely a 'recorder'."

"Take it."

Jiang Lin stretched and said, "If anyone asks about it in the future, just say that you wrote it. After all, no one in this world is worthy of this 'Ode to the Autumn Sounds' except you."

Ouyang Xiu's body trembled.

To hand over such a masterpiece destined to be remembered for generations to come? And to do so so casually?

Is this young man's heart broader than the starry sky of this autumn night?

"Mr. Jiang's great kindness... I, Ouyang Xiu, will forever remember it!"

Ouyang Xiu solemnly accepted the Xuan paper, as if he were holding his own life. The look in his eyes as he looked at Jiang Lin had completely changed from initial admiration to worship—yes, a fifty-year-old literary leader worshipping a twenty-something schoolteacher.

……

This night is destined to be sleepless.

Ouyang Xiu didn't leave in a hurry, and Jiang Lin didn't chase them away.

The two of them sat in the simple lecture hall, huddled around the exquisite bronze hand warmer, and talked about everything from poetry and songs to the philosophy of life, and eventually, inevitably, current affairs.

"After the failure of the Qingli Reforms, Fan Xiwen (Fan Zhongyan) died in despair, and the court is now a stagnant pool."

After drinking a few cups of hot wine, Ouyang Xiu began to speak, his face full of worry and indignation. "The Imperial Academy style of writing is prevalent, and officials are sticking to old ways. Although I am the chief examiner and want to turn the tide, I also feel that I cannot do it all by myself."

He looked at Jiang Lin with a gaze so fervent it seemed to melt his heart:

"Mr. Jiang, with such extraordinary talent and such a clear understanding of the ills of the times, why are you willing to settle for this small place in Runzhou?"

"Come with me to the capital!"

Ouyang Xiu grabbed Jiang Lin's wrist. "I'm willing to stake my life on recommending you to the Emperor! With your talent, it's only a matter of time before you enter the two central government offices (the Secretariat and the Privy Council) and become a prime minister! When that time comes, if we join forces, what will prevent the Song Dynasty from prospering?"

Su Shi, who was standing nearby, was so excited that he wished he could agree on behalf of his teacher.

This is Ouyang Xiu's personal recommendation! A chance to rise to the top in one step!

However, Jiang Lin simply withdrew his hand and poured Ouyang Xiu a cup of tea.

"Sir, do you consider me a diligent person?"

Jiang Lin pointed to his posture, which was almost sunk into the chair, and asked lazily.

Ouyang Xiu was taken aback: "Uh... indeed, sir... has quite the Wei-Jin style (though he's rather lazy)."

Being an official is too tiring.

Jiang Lin sighed, looking disgusted. "I have to get up early for court, scheme against my colleagues, and watch out for those mad dogs from the Censorate. My greatest ambition is to sleep until I naturally wake up and count money until my hands cramp."

"This..." Ouyang Xiu was speechless at this reason.

"and."

Jiang Lin's playful smile suddenly vanished, and his gaze became clear and firm. "In the imperial court, having another Jiang Lin is just another bureaucrat who can argue."

"But in the far reaches of the world, one more Jiang Lin can teach hundreds or even thousands of Su Shi and Zeng Gong."

"Lord Ouyang."

Jiang Lin looked directly at Ouyang Xiu. "You're repairing that wrecked ship in the imperial court, while I'm training craftsmen to build new ships for you in the martial world. Wouldn't it be better if we divided the work and cooperated?"

Ouyang Xiu was stunned.

He looked at the young man before him. The candlelight illuminated Jiang Lin's face, which, despite its youthful appearance, seemed to possess the wisdom and vicissitudes of time.

After a long silence, Ouyang Xiu sighed, picked up his wine cup, and drank it all in one gulp.

"What a great division of labor!"

"I am far inferior to Mr. Jiang in terms of his level of understanding. It was I who... became attached to appearances."

……

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking.

Ouyang Xiu then quietly left with his page.

Just before mounting his horse, he turned back and took one last deep look at the Jingshi Academy, whose gates remained tightly closed.

In the cold wind, the unremarkable plaque seemed to radiate boundless light in his eyes.

"Master, are we heading back to the capital already?" the page asked, yawning. "Jiang Shanchang may be impressive, but surely he shouldn't have kept you talking all night?"

Ouyang Xiu carefully touched the "Ode to the Autumn Sounds" in his arms, a smile of unprecedented satisfaction appearing on his lips.

"You don't understand."

Ouyang Xiu mounted his horse, reined in it, and addressed his page, as well as the sky above Runzhou City, with absolute certainty:

"This man is a prodigy of our time."

"No."

Ouyang Xiu shook his head and revised his evaluation:

"He is the most talented person I have ever met in my life. Without a doubt."

"Return to the capital! I must see the Emperor immediately! Such a talented man, even if he is unwilling to serve as an official, the Song Dynasty must not neglect him!"

The sound of horses' hooves shattered the tranquility of the morning.

Inside the academy, Jiang Lin was fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket.

"System, be quiet... let me sleep for another five hundred years..."