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

Jubao Pavilion, the largest den of iniquity in Bianjing (Kaifeng).

At this moment, hundreds of people are crammed into the narrow hall, where the air is so hot it could bake a person alive.

The smells of sweat, cosmetics, and rusty coins mingled together, fermenting into a smell known as "madness."

On the huge mahogany water sign, the odds were jumping wildly:

Imperial Academy: One to one and two points.

Jing Shi Academy: One to four compensation!

"Place your bet now! Place your bet now!"

The dealer stood on the high platform, shouting until his voice was hoarse: "The Imperial Academy is a century-old institution, the legitimate successor of the imperial court!"

"Jingshi Academy is a rising star, achieving the highest honors in all three levels of the imperial examinations! Let's take a gamble, and... uh, the clod of earth will turn into a gold mine!"

The crowd below was like boiling water.

"I'm betting on the Imperial Academy! Fifty strings of cash!" A silk shop owner slammed a silver note on the table. "Twelve scholars against four greenhorns! If we lose, I'll eat this table!"

"Exactly! Although Su Shi was exceptionally talented, that was in poetry. Now we're comparing classical texts and policy essays! Those old scholars at the Imperial Academy are so obsessed with the classics that they've gone to the ends of the earth. They're a sure winner!"

But there are also some opportunists whose eyes are darting around.

"I'm betting on Jingshi Academy! Ten strings of cash!" a down-on-his-luck scholar gritted his teeth. "That Jiang Lin is incredibly cunning; what if he wins? That's three times the bet!"

In just one hour, the silver notes on the table had piled up into a small mountain, with the total amount exceeding three thousand strings of cash.

This trend, carried by the Bian River, quickly flowed into the grand mansions.

The back gate of Wen Yanbo's residence.

A man who looked like an advisor furtively pulled the steward aside and slipped a silver note into his hand.

"Brother, do me a favor. Go to Jubao Pavilion and bet everything on Jingshi Academy."

The steward was startled: "Fifty strings of cash? You mean... hasn't my husband given his opinion yet?"

The aide lowered his voice, his expression enigmatic: "The master hasn't expressed his opinion, but haven't you seen the way he looks at Jiang Lin's articles these past few days? It's like a mother-in-law looking at her son-in-law—the more she looks, the more satisfied she becomes! Follow the master's lead, and you can't go wrong!"

At Fu Bi's residence.

Fu Bi's brother-in-law was even more audacious, carrying two boxes of copper coins directly to the gambling den.

"Two hundred strings of cash! All bet on Jing Shi Academy!"

"My brother-in-law said that Su Shi was a celestial being descended to earth. Going against a god? Those old men at the Imperial Academy must be dreaming!"

Within the Imperial Academy, it was an even greater "battle of defense."

Twelve PhDs gathered in a tea room, crowdfunding.

"I'll offer ten strings of cash!"

"I'll offer five strings!"

"We have to bet on ourselves to win!" one of the PhDs gritted his teeth. "If even we don't believe in ourselves, what's the point of competing? Besides, we can earn a commission if we win, so why not?"

Liu Chang was the most ruthless; he directly pulled out three hundred strings of cash from his private savings and slammed it heavily on the table.

"I refuse to believe this! How could the prestigious Imperial Academy lose to a nobody?"

The afternoon sun was just right at Jing Shi Academy.

Unlike the hustle and bustle outside, it was unusually quiet here. A strong smell of hot pot wafted through the courtyard.

Jiang Lin was having hot pot with his three apprentices.

Qian Duoduo burst in, sweating profusely, his fat jiggling: "Sir! It's gone mad outside! The odds are 1 to 4! Everyone in town is betting on us to lose!"

Jiang Lin picked up a piece of tripe and dipped it in the chili oil a few times without even looking up: "Calm down. Tripe doesn't taste good when it's overcooked."

"Sir! How can you still eat!" Qian Duoduo stamped her feet anxiously. "If we lose, our academy will have to sell even our pots and pans!"

Jiang Lin stuffed the tripe into his mouth, a satisfied look on his face, before slowly turning to Qian Duoduo: "Duoduo, do you know what those people outside are called?"

Qian Duoduo was taken aback: "Called...gambler?"

Jiang Lin shook his finger, a cold capitalist smile curling at the corner of his lips:

"No, that's called 'chives'."

"This kind of one-sided betting is a trap set by the market maker. Most people think they are following the trend, but they are actually throwing their lives away."

This is called the Pareto Principle (80/20 rule). Truth is always in the hands of a minority.

He put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth:

How much working capital is left in the account?

"Eight hundred strings."

"All in."

"What?"

"I said, I'm betting everything. I'm betting on us to win." Jiang Lin's eyes were clear, as if he were stating a matter of course. "This is a massacre caused by information asymmetry. Since someone is offering us money to improve our meals, why should we refuse?"

Looking at Jiang Lin's all-knowing gaze, Qian Duoduo swallowed hard, almost unconsciously. "...Okay! I'll listen to you, sir! If we win, I'll buy Fanlou and use it as our canteen!"

Late at night.

In a side hall of the palace, the lights were dim.

"Five hundred strings of cash, go to Jubao Pavilion and pawn it at Jingshi Academy."

"Jiang Lin... Su Shi... I've already bought a ticket for tomorrow's grand performance, so please don't mess it up!"

The third quarter of the hour of Zi (11:45 PM).

The entire city of Bianjing finally quieted down, but the air remained restless.

The accountant at Jubaoge was still working on his abacus when the final bet amount settled at an astonishing figure—eight thousand six hundred strings of cash.

At the Imperial Academy, the lights shone brightly all night. Liu Chang and the twelve scholars, their eyes dark with fatigue, were still diligently working through those few obscure ancient books.

Meanwhile, at the Songshan Villa, Jiang Lin was already snoring loudly.

The next day, at three-quarters past 5 PM.

As dusk settled over the streets of Bianjing, the noise was even louder than during the day.

A long queue had already formed at the entrance of Fanlou Restaurant. Some people were wrapped in quilts, some were eating flatbread, and some were even fighting over a good spot.

"Here it comes!"

In the distance, the Imperial Academy's carriage slowly approached.

Liu Chang lifted the carriage curtain and looked at the magnificent signboard of Fanlou, his eyes filled with a desperate ruthlessness.

"Jiang Lin... today is the day you are utterly disgraced!"

at the same time.

The gates of Jingshi Academy opened.

Jiang Lin stretched and looked at his three spirited disciples behind him, then suddenly seemed to remember something:

"By the way, did Duoduo put up our 800 strings of cash?"

Qian Duoduo nodded quickly: "I'll pawn it! It's all cash!"

Jiang Lin smiled with satisfaction and waved his hand:

"That's good. Place your bet now!"

He looked towards Fanlou, his tone casual yet exuding absolute confidence:

"Next, it's time to collect the money!"