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

The main hall of Fanlou was so crowded that it resembled a boiling pot of water that could explode at any moment.

The private seating area, which was originally only meant to accommodate 300 people, was crammed with more than 400 people.

Several fervent scholars who had spent a fortune to buy "hanging tickets" were squatting at the stairwell, by the windows, and even on the second-floor beams.

In the center of the venue, the two areas are clearly separated.

On the left was the Imperial Academy Doctors' Group, with Liu Chang in the center and twelve doctors seated on either side, dressed in scarlet robes with silver fish emblems, exuding official authority and their faces radiating confidence.

To the right is the Jingshi Academy, where Jiang Lin sits in the main seat, still holding his ever-present purple clay teapot. Su Shi is intently arguing with the melon seeds on the table, Su Zhe remains calm, and Zeng Gong appears composed.

In the very center of the judging panel sat Ouyang Xiu, flanked by Sima Guang on his left and Wang Anshi on his right. These three giants, seated there, represented half of the literary world of the Song Dynasty.

Above the main hall hangs a three-foot-tall portrait of Confucius, which is the treasure of Fanlou and is said to be the work of Wu Daozi of the Tang Dynasty.

Liu Chang rose with high spirits, cupped his hands in greeting to the surroundings, and spoke in a loud voice:

"Today's battle is to set things right! Let the scholars of Bianjing see who truly represents the legitimate dynasty of the Song!"

Jiang Lin didn't even lift his eyelids, he just blew on the tea foam.

Ouyang Xiu was about to announce the rules when Liu Chang suddenly raised his hand to interrupt him—

"Wait a minute!"

Liu Chang sneered, his true intentions revealed: "I propose that the twelve doctors of the Imperial Academy simultaneously ask questions, and the students of the Jingshi Academy must answer all the questions without a single mistake within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn! Jiang Shanchang, do you dare to accept this challenge?"

A collective gasp filled the room. Simultaneously, everyone asked, "This isn't an academic exam, it's more like a market argument! Who can even hear a thing?"

Just as Jiang Lin was about to speak, Zeng Gong pressed down on the back of his hand and slowly stood up.

Today he was dressed in a faded scholar's robe, and looking at the twelve imposing red-robed doctors opposite him, he regarded them as twelve large cabbages.

"No need for even a stick of incense."

Zeng Gong slowly rolled up his sleeves, his tone as sincere as if he were discussing dinner:

"My husband needs to get back to sleep. Half an incense stick's time, all twelve of you come at me together."

"Arrogant!" The Twelve Doctors were enraged.

With the sound of a gong, the students of the Imperial Academy, like mad dogs unleashed from their cages, deliberately spoke at an extremely fast pace and in a cacophony of voices, even mixing in dialects, in an attempt to distract Zeng Gong.

"The Zhou Li (Rites of Zhou) records the dimensions of cartwheels in the Kao Gong Ji (Record of Crafts)..."

"The Gongyang Commentary on the Meaning of Great Unification..."

"The Nine Categories of the Great Plan in the Book of Documents..."

The twelve voices mixed together were like a demonic chant, making the onlookers' heads ache and unable to hear what anyone was saying.

Zeng Gong closed his eyes.

In that instant, he felt as if he were in a world of absolute stillness.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and spoke. His words came out as fast as a machine gun, as clear as pearls falling onto a plate:

"Third from the left, the wheel is six feet six inches long, with thirty spokes. You've memorized it wrong, it's thirty, not thirty-six. Go back and retake your elementary school."

"Second from the right, the Hong Fan Jiu Chou (Nine Categories of the Great Plan) begins with the Five Elements. Your pronunciation is Fujianese; you pronounced 'Five Elements' as 'Five Forms,' completely ruining the meaning. Rejected."

"In the middle of the story, the Gongyang Commentary unifies all systems, and the key lies in 'legitimacy.' You're quoting a commentary from the spurious Han Ji, demonstrating a lack of scholarship. How dare you ask such a question?"

The entire audience was stunned.

Zeng Gong didn't think; he was like an emotionless human search engine.

Even if twelve people were screaming at the same time, he could accurately seize the weakness of each person in the noisy sound wave, and then—kill them with one blow!

"wrong!"

"leak!"

"absurd!"

"stupid!"

He took a step forward with each word he uttered.

With each step he took, a scholar from the Imperial Academy would be defeated, his face flushed and his mouth agape.

When he reached the center of the room, all twelve PhDs fell silent. They realized they didn't even have the right to ask Zeng Gong a question!

Seeing that all was lost, Liu Chang's eyes turned bloodshot, and he hysterically roared out his final killing move:

"So what if you have a vast knowledge and a prodigious memory! I ask you—what is the Way?!"

"The Way is in the deep mountains! The Way is in the court! The Way is in the hearts of the people! If you cannot answer the question of high and low, noble and base, then you cannot be said to understand the Great Way!"

The room fell silent. This was a philosophical trap; any answer would be wrong.

Zeng Gong stopped and looked at the furious Liu Chang, then suddenly smiled. In that smile was a hint of pity for the insects.

Instead of quoting the words of the sages, he pointed to Wu Dalang, who was selling pancakes outside Fanlou, to the old woman mending clothes in the corner, and finally to the mud under his feet.

"Master Liu, you've elevated the 'Dao' too high, so high that even you can't reach it."

Zeng Gong's voice wasn't loud, but it resonated deeply:

"The Dao is in excrement and urine." (Quoted from Zhuangzi, meaning that the Dao is everywhere and does not distinguish between high and low, noble and base.)

Boom! The entire audience erupted in uproar.

Zeng Gong continued:

"You speak of the imperial court, I speak of the daily necessities of the common people. You speak of the scriptures, I speak of the farmer's hoe."

He abruptly raised his head, stared directly at the portrait of Confucius, and spoke in a booming voice:

"If reading the classics can't feed the people, what's the point of studying them!"

"To apply knowledge to practical use, to ensure that everyone has food to eat, clothes to wear, and books to read—this is the principle of my Jing Shi Academy!"

The words had barely left his mouth—

Click!

With a sharp crack, one of the ropes hanging above the portrait of Confucius, which had been hanging in the main hall for decades, suddenly snapped.

The portrait tilted down, and the image of Confucius, who was originally sitting upright, now looked as if he was bowing deeply to Zeng Gong because of the angle!

Even more strangely, it was dusk at that moment, and the last ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds. After being refracted by the glazed tiles of Fanlou, it turned into a rainbow of light, shining precisely between Zeng Gong and the "bowing" portrait of the saint.

Wang Anshi crushed the teacup in his hand and roared, "Even sages bow down! Even Confucius acknowledges his teachings!"

This is no longer just a "miracle," it's "worship"!

"thump!"

Looking at the statue of Confucius that seemed to be bowing to Zeng Gong, Liu Chang's worldview collapsed, his knees buckled, and he knelt directly on the ground.

Immediately afterwards, all twelve doctors knelt down.

It's not that they wanted to kneel, it's that the scene was too terrifying! They felt like they'd be struck by lightning if they didn't kneel!

Zeng Gong stood in the light, looking at the kneeling crowd of students from the Imperial Academy, and gently brushed the dust off his sleeves:

"You flatter me. Who else?"

The audience was silent.

Ouyang Xiu stood up, trembling: "In the...first round, on the classics, Zeng Gong...a complete victory!"

Zeng Gong turned and went back to his seat. As he passed Su Shi, Su Shi gave him a thumbs up and whispered, "Brother Zigu, that line 'Reading the bird's way' was a stroke of genius! It's refined yet has a touch of roguishness. I love it!"

Zeng Gong took a sip of tea expressionlessly: "That's what the teacher taught me."

Jiang Lin: "...I didn't teach this."

At this moment, Su Shi took a deep breath and stood up. He straightened his clothes, and in that instant, his playful smile vanished, replaced by a sharpness that could pierce the heavens.

He glanced at Liu Chang, who was slumped on the ground, grinned, revealing a set of white teeth:

"Chancellor Liu, don't faint! That was just an appetizer, the main course... it's only just being served now."

He waved his sleeve and walked into the center of the arena:

"I, Su Zizhan, will be taking over the next poetry competition! All of you from the Imperial Academy, bring it on!"