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

Late at night, inside the imperial palace.

The side hall of Chongzheng Hall was brightly lit, as bright as day.

This is where the Song Dynasty emperor conducts his daily work, and also the battlefield where the fate of countless people will be decided tonight. The water clock outside the palace is ticking away; it is already past midnight. The night wind, carrying the chill of early spring, is lashing against the windowpanes, making a howling sound.

Inside the hall, hundreds of exam papers were piled up like a mountain.

Emperor Renzong Zhao Zhen had been sitting here for two whole hours. His dragon robe was somewhat wrinkled, and the white hair at his temples looked particularly glaring in the candlelight.

His face looked terrible.

It looks terrible.

That kind of ugliness wasn't just about exhaustion; it was a deep-seated disappointment and loneliness.

"Snapped!"

He threw a test paper hard onto the ground, where it rolled several times before stopping, landing right next to the old eunuch's feet.

"It's all nonsense! It's all empty talk!"

Emperor Renzong's fingers trembled with rage as he pointed at the scroll on the ground. His voice sharpened with anger: "Look at what this says! This one tells me to 'cultivate my character and influence the barbarians,' and that one tells me to 'live frugally and subdue people with virtue!'"

He abruptly stood up and paced anxiously behind his desk:

"If I eat a few less pieces of meat, will the soldiers' pay at the front lines be issued? If I stop wearing silk, will the Liao cavalry stop marching south?! I send so much money to the Liao and Western Xia every year, is it because my virtue is lacking?!"

"These bookworms! They've spent their whole lives reading the classics, but their brains are full of mush! What I need are strategies! Strategies to kill! Not moralistic essays teaching me how to be a saint!"

The old eunuch next to him was so frightened that he knelt on the ground, trembling and not daring to breathe. He could only bury his head between his legs, wishing he could turn into a floor tile.

After venting his anger, Emperor Renzong slumped back onto the dragon throne.

He rubbed his throbbing temples, feeling a deep sense of powerlessness wash over him like a tide.

Are all the scholars in the Song Dynasty really just bookworms? In this vast land with its millions of people, is there not a single person who can see the situation clearly and dares to speak the truth?

Is the fate of the Song Dynasty really going to be ruined by these mediocre talents who only know how to whitewash the situation?

He sighed, and with a last glimmer of hope, casually picked up the next exam paper.

As soon as Emperor Renzong got his hands on the scroll, he sensed something was different.

Handwriting.

In the past, most of the exam papers I saw were written in the neat and orderly "official script," just like they were printed. Although they were beautiful, they were all the same and had a lifeless, rigid feel to them.

But the characters on this paper are full and unrestrained, with the brushstrokes hidden in a grand style, exuding a calm and unhurried confidence, and even a bit of... arrogance.

"Your handwriting reflects your personality..."

Emperor Renzong muttered to himself, glancing casually at the beginning of the article.

His gaze was fixed on it at first glance.

"It's not that the world lacks wealth, but rather that wealth lies not in the country but in the powerful and wealthy..."

Ok?

Emperor Renzong's originally cloudy eyes suddenly brightened, as if a drowning person had grasped at a straw.

That's an interesting statement. It's jarring, but... damnably true!

Which of the court officials dared to say such a thing? They would only say, "The national treasury is empty; Your Majesty, please be frugal." Only this person pointed out incisively: the money wasn't lost, it just wasn't in the national treasury; it was all in the pockets of those powerful families who had annexed land!

He sat up straight, brought the paper closer to the candlelight, and patiently read on.

"The problem isn't a lack of troops, but rather that they are untrained and have become arrogant and lazy..."

Emperor Renzong raised his eyebrows.

What audacity! Daring to directly criticize the Song army as "arrogant and lazy"? If those old fogies in the Privy Council saw this, they would definitely impeach him for "slandering the morale of the army."

But Emperor Renzong felt a sense of satisfaction! It was so satisfying! He had long wanted to scold those soldiers who took military pay but did nothing, but he couldn't, because he was the emperor and had to maintain his dignity.

Now, finally someone has spoken up for him!

He continued reading. The more he read, the more rapid his breathing became; the more he read, the more his hand holding the paper trembled.

Every word on the exam paper was like a precise scalpel, cutting open the abscess beneath the prosperous facade of the Song Dynasty, revealing the black, poisonous blood that flowed out; every suggestion was like a key, unlocking the lock in his heart that had been locked for so long.

"Establish markets and trade offices... to seize all the profits of the world..." This means the imperial court is to intervene and wrest pricing power from merchants!

"Integrate soldiers into farmers... reduce the old and weak..." - This means to implement a military system and kick out all those useless people who are drawing salaries without working!

"Pilot implementation...without harming the foundation of the nation..."—This is the wise advice of a seasoned politician, knowing that reform is too difficult and must be done step by step!

This is not just talent; this is a truly practical "national policy"!

This is the path to "national prosperity and military strength" that he has always dreamed of!

Especially the last line—"I was born a commoner... I am willing to be a soldier in Your Majesty's hands, even if I die, I will have no regrets."

Emperor Renzong felt a burning sensation in his eyes, a stinging feeling in his nose, and a rush of heat to his head.

This isn't an article; it's clearly a suicide note! A pledge of allegiance!

"A true friend..."

Emperor Renzong murmured to himself, his voice choked with emotion, "This young man understands me! He knows what I want to do, and he knows what I dare not do. So he stepped forward and said: Your Majesty, don't be afraid, I'll play the villain, I'll take the blame!"

He not only possessed the talent of a prime minister, but also the loyalty of a loyal subject!

"Good! Good! Good!"

Emperor Renzong said "good" three times in a row, then slammed his hand on the imperial desk. The sound echoed in the empty side hall, carrying a long-suppressed release, and even made the candlelight flicker.

"These are the talents I need! These are the backbone of the Song Dynasty!"

Seeing this, the old eunuch quickly got up and, mustering his courage, offered a cup of hot tea: "Your Majesty, whose talented writer wrote this? It has made you so happy. I have served you for so many years and have never seen you so distraught."

Emperor Renzong did not answer, but took a deep breath to suppress his excitement.

He glanced at the name covered up on the exam paper and already had a guess in his mind.

This insight, this writing style, and this familiar "pragmatism," this audacity to dare to pierce the sky...

Besides the "Madman of Runzhou" whom he both loved and hated and who dared to refuse the imperial edict, who else could have taught him?

"go!"

Emperor Renzong carefully placed the scroll aside, as if it were a priceless treasure, his eyes shining with an unprecedented light.

"By imperial decree, summon Hanlin Academician Ouyang Xiu to the palace immediately!"

The old eunuch was taken aback, glancing at the sky outside. "Your Majesty, it's already past midnight. The palace gates have been locked for a long time... Lord Ouyang is probably already asleep. How about tomorrow?"

"Go when I tell you to!"

Emperor Renzong stood up and paced back and forth in the hall, as excited as a child who had just received a new toy, showing no signs of sleepiness whatsoever.

"Take the imperial warrant and open the gate! Even if you have to carry him in a sedan chair, bring Ouyang Xiu here to me!"

"I want him to see for himself what kind of monster this Jiang Lin, whom he so lavishly praises, has sent him!"

"No, they sent some kind of divine sword to the Song Dynasty!"

……

Half an hour later.

Inside the imperial palace, a carriage sped along the imperial road, breaking the silence of the night.

The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs, making a rapid sound, just like the anxious mood of the people inside the carriage.