Chapter 34: Supermodel Combat Power Shocks Fan Zhongyan...

"Crack!"

The crisp sound echoed in Mei Yaochen's office.

The teacher and student stared at each other, neither saying a word for a moment. The former was surprised, while the latter was simply speechless, his mouth stuffed with candy.

The candy was stuck in Fusu's mouth. He couldn't stay still forever, so he had to puff out his chubby cheeks and swallow it.

Glug.

Hmm, it's quite delicious.

"Mr. Mei, would you like a piece too?" Fu Su's small, gurgling voice broke through Mei Yaochen's last trace of hesitation.

He imitated Fusu, picking up the headless bear fragment and examining it for a long time in the sunlight, until the reflected light dazzled his eyes: "It really is candy... I was blind and misunderstood you."

Looking more closely at the sugar painting: a deer sips water by a shallow stream, and a bear's head appears and disappears in a lush forest... Mei Yaochen belatedly felt guilty and heartbroken.

It's easy to imagine how much thought Zhao Xiaolang put into preparing the gift. He even carefully read his own poem!

Mei Yaochen released the bear cub back into the forest and closed the brocade box, saying, "I will take good care of this gift."

Fu Su curiously peered over: "Dr. Mei, what did you originally think it was?"

Mei Yaochen's face flushed slightly. He had a strange feeling that he was naive: "Crystal, or at the very least, glass..."

"Crystal, glass?" Fusu murmured to himself.

He suddenly realized that the economic value of sugar paintings might be far greater than he had imagined. Since ancient times, humanity's pursuit of transparent gemstones has been undeniable. Even in modern times, long after glass was invented, aren't jadeite and Hetian jade more valuable the more they resemble glass?

The effect of the painting made with transparent syrup could mislead both Empress Cao and Dr. Mei, neither of whom were naive. Even if it sold for a high price—a string of cash for a single painting—probably no one would object, given its crystal-clear, almost exotic appearance.

even……

"Dr. Mei, you've actually inspired your student! Next time I give a gift, I'll use this sugar to make a picture. People might think it's something precious and thank me instead!"

Fusu said with a grin.

Mei Yaochen: "You child!" After saying that, he laughed: "Alright, you don't need to comfort me. It was my narrow-mindedness that led me to misunderstand your good intentions."

"But it's quite novel that you could think of using sugar in your paintings."

As for the secrets of sugar painting itself, such as what kind of sugar it is made of and how to achieve a transparent and sculptible effect, Mei Yaochen didn't inquire about any of them. He could naturally imagine the economic benefits that Fusu could envision. To delve further would be tantamount to prying into trade secrets.

Fusu blinked and took the opportunity to state his second purpose: "Actually, I didn't come to see you entirely out of gratitude."

Mei Yaochen's beard twitched: "Oh?"

If it's not just a simple expression of gratitude, then it's a gift offered to ask for a favor.

Normally, he would have politely asked the person to leave. But since he had misunderstood the person and ruined the gift, Mei Yaochen couldn't be as heartless as he was to Fusu.

Seeing that there seemed to be a chance, Fusu immediately handed in the results of his writing and drawing in the dormitory.

"I have some ideas about the Imperial College's dining hall, but I don't know who to ask. Since I've met you once before, I thought I'd come and give you my opinion first."

Mei Yaochen took the thin sheet of paper, unfolded it, and read it carefully.

"...The Imperial College Dietary Improvement Committee?"

His brows twitched slightly, and then he looked down. The more he looked, the more his brows twitched, making Fusu's heart pound with fear. His initial confidence and smugness vanished: Was his idea still too advanced for the Song Dynasty?

After a few breaths, Mei Yaochen placed the paper on the table.

Fusu asked impatiently, "What does Mr. Mei think of this method? Is it feasible?"

“Your idea is interesting. I’ll have someone else take a look. By the way, you’re still young and new to the Imperial Academy. If you have any difficulties adjusting, come and tell the professors or dormitory heads. Tomorrow is a rest day in the dormitory. The day after tomorrow, you’ll formally meet your classmates in the Classics Dormitory. From then on, you’ll be studying in the academy just like everyone else. Do you understand?”

"I remember everything." Fusu nodded honestly.

Mei Yaochen added, "The day after tomorrow, the Doctor of Classics will be lecturing on the Great Learning. You may prepare in advance."

Wow, *The Great Learning*!

"The Great Learning" is the most famous chapter in the "Book of Rites," but it wasn't a compulsory subject in compulsory education. Even though Fusu had read it in his first life, he didn't remember it very well now. Fusu almost immediately felt a great sense of crisis. He had vowed to change the academic atmosphere of the Imperial Academy, but if he couldn't even learn the most basic lessons, how could he talk about the future?

Thankfully, the lecture will start the day after tomorrow.

Fusu made a decision almost immediately: he would take advantage of the two days of free time to thoroughly study the *Great Learning*, ideally memorizing the entire text. He was now a child prodigy specially recruited into the Imperial Academy by imperial decree, and everyone at the academy could recite his poems; he was currently the center of attention.

Fusu bid farewell to Mei Yaochen and left his office. On his way back, he suddenly stopped in his tracks: "Eh..."

Wait a minute, didn't I come here to submit a proposal for improving the dining hall? Why didn't Mei Yaochen say whether it was feasible or not, or even who he would consult, before sending me away?

Fusu patted his pale face in regret: Upon hearing about the class, he panicked and completely forgot his original purpose!

Fusu suspected that Mei Yaochen didn't like his plan, which was why he was making excuses and changing the subject. The little boy's eyebrows drooped down on his chubby face, and he couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. He wondered if he should try someone else.

But who should I contact?

Looking around the vast Imperial Academy, apart from Mei Yaochen and Su Shi, whom he had met before entering the academy, and Zeng Gong and Li Guanlan, whom he met today, Fusu didn't recognize a single one of them.

"Wait a minute." Fusu clenched his little fist and muttered to himself, "We can talk about the dining hall thing after we get to know our classmates and teachers the day after tomorrow. It's more important to memorize the Great Learning first."

He still has a lot of concerns about his image.

At the very least, we absolutely cannot mess things up in front of everyone.

After he left, Mei Yaochen reviewed Fusu's plan several times and summoned the page outside his office: "Go and call Chunren here. I have something important to discuss with him."

A while later, a man between the ages of a teenager and a young man, with a refined and gentle appearance, hurried over: "Dr. Mei, I heard you wanted to see me?"

Mei Yaochen didn't exchange pleasantries with him: "Chunren, come and take a look at this."

Fan Chunren: "Yes."

Like Mei Yaochen, he kept twitching his brow as he flipped through the pages, and when he reached the end, he couldn't help but ask, "Doctor, who wrote this policy essay?"

Mei Yaochen: "What do you think?"

Fan Chunren paused for a moment: "I can't think of anything."

His surname reveals that he is Fan Zhongyan's son. Fan Zhongyan once held the high-ranking position of Privy Councilor, making him one of the most powerful figures among all the students at the Imperial Academy. Fan Chunren should have been a leader among the students, but Fan Zhongyan's reforms at the Imperial Academy, which included admitting outstanding but impoverished students, caused discontent among many and put Fan Chunren in an awkward position within the academy.

But Fan Chunren did not take offense.

Since his father was transferred out of Bianjing, he took on the role of a defender of the achievements of the Imperial Academy reform. Shi Jie, Sun Fu, Mei Yaochen, and others would consult him or discuss matters with his father, who was far away in Shaanxi, through him.

Now, Fan Chunren's gaze swept over the well-organized and approachable canteen improvement project plan, including the sections on "Reform Background," "Feasibility Analysis," "Reform Content," "Future Achievements," and "Limitations," and he fell into deep thought.

"I have never seen anyone use this format for strategy before," he said.

Since the Six Dynasties, parallel prose has been a style of meticulous writing. It seems that any policy essay cannot proceed without starting with a few parallel sentences about "moral education" or "moral guidance."

Where can you find a sentence in the "reform background" that is so eloquent and expressive: "Food is the first necessity of the people. If students do not share food and drink, then the sky above their heads will not be clear."

As for the following items, needless to say. After reading the entire article, Fan Chunren felt that although it was only a few dozen lines long, it had covered all the issues that needed to be considered. Even things that shouldn't have been mentioned—the author even pointed out the limitations of his own suggestions.

Mei Yaochen then asked, "So, do you think his writing is feasible or not?"

It's more than just feasible. Fan Chunren thought to himself: even he couldn't think of a better idea for the time being.

Fan Chunren's eyes dimmed slightly: "This... project proposal, the proposal is right, only by eating and drinking together every day can the students of the Imperial Academy become a collective. In the past, the funds for the canteen were insufficient, so it was forced to live in poverty. It was understandable that wealthy families ate out. But since the government still cares about the Imperial Academy and has specially allocated a sum of money for meals, we should not give up this good opportunity."

"As for the method..."

"As for the method," Fan Chunren said, "we will establish a Dietary Improvement Committee as stated in this plan to supervise the food produced by the Imperial Dining Hall. The committee members should include the Chancellor, doctors, and children from poor families, and the chairman of the committee must be a son of an official."

"The committee is responsible for supervising the quality of the food in the canteen, regularly scoring and compiling the statistics of the food, and the scores are linked to the canteen's performance. In addition, the students will also conduct regular follow-ups on the committee's work to prevent the committee from accepting bribes or shirking its duties."

“He thought it through very carefully,” Mei Yaochen said.

“Yes…” Fan Chunren sighed as well. He seemed to realize why Mei Yaochen had called him over: “Are you worried that there might be problems if the chairman of the committee is a son of an official?”

Mei Yaochen nodded in agreement.

Within the Imperial Academy, there were no shortage of incompetent and morally bankrupt individuals like Zhang Jifu. The Dietary Improvement Committee wielded considerable power, and if it fell into the hands of these people, the entire Imperial Academy's dining hall might be paralyzed.

"Your concerns are also mentioned in the plan."

Fan Chunren focused his attention on the "limitations of reform," the first of which was "the committee's abuse of assessment power, which breeds corruption."

"But if a similar committee is to be established, the chairman should be a son of an official, and it can only be them, right?"

The sons of officials, accustomed to fine dining, developed discerning palates, while the sons of poor families were easily satisfied with meat. Moreover, and more importantly, after Fan Zhongyan's reforms introduced students from poor families to the school, psychologically, the sons of officials would feel that they were the ones who suffered a loss, even though this was not actually the case.

As stated in the plan, granting them some power would reduce their alienation from the larger collective of the Imperial Academy. Fusu didn't write this down, nor did Fan Chunren and Mei Yaochen mention it, but they were all well aware of it.

"Doctor, I will go see the Chancellor immediately to finalize the details of this plan... Don't worry, although there are occasionally corrupt officials in the prison, there are also many virtuous and talented people. We will carefully select the members of the committee, and the situation you are worried about will not happen."

"By the way, you still haven't answered me. What is the author of this plan? Is he one of our fellow students in prison?"

Mei Yaochen: "They are children of prisoners. Don't worry, you'll meet them sooner or later."

To say that the person who wrote this set of policy essays was only three years old? Fan Chunren certainly wouldn't believe it. He'd rather wait until he saw Zhao Xiaolang with his own eyes and understood the child's extraordinary abilities before saying anything. Conversely, age was also the main reason why Mei Yaochen evaded Fusu and refused to give a direct answer.

He worried that he might have been misled by emotional factors. But if not, how could a policy proposal—or rather, a plan—that even he found amazing at first glance be written by a three-year-old?

What exactly happened between Zhao Zongsu and Zhao Xiaolang?

Could it be that he has a master mentor guiding him?

No, no, talent is like a sharp awl in a pocket, it will inevitably be revealed, but after so many years, Prince Pu doesn't seem to have anything special about him.

Or is this child born with a divine talent for strategy?

Mei Yaochen was completely baffled.

That evening, he wrote a letter and sent it to Fan Zhongyan, who was stationed on the frontier in Shaanxi: "Xiwen, I have met a very remarkable child these days. Although he is only three years old, he can already write policy essays. I am not lying to you. See for yourself if you don't believe me (attached is a handwritten copy of the reform plan for the Imperial Academy's dining hall)."

So, isn't he amazing? Tell me, should I advise him to finish studying the classics as soon as possible and take the imperial examinations so he can contribute to our Song Dynasty? But three years old is too young, I'm so conflicted.

After receiving the letter, Fan Zhongyan, by candlelight, silently read the "Reform Plan for the Imperial Academy's Dining Hall" for a long time. Suddenly, as if he had thought of something, he found his friend Fu Bi's letter among the thick stack of letters, placed it next to Mei Yaochen's, and began to compare them.

At the age of three, His Highness Prince Cheng devised a plan that disrupted the peace talks between Song and Xia.

At the age of three, he was a student at the Imperial Academy who wrote policy essays.

What's going on? Did Bianjing start mass-producing child prodigies while I was away? And for a three-year-old, isn't this level of combat power a bit too overpowered?

-

Little did Fusu know that his plan to improve the dining hall, which he thought had failed to submit, had even caught the attention of the initiator of the new policy in Shaanxi, prompting the latter to lament the issue of balance of power.

If he knew, he would definitely nod generously: Yes, I am a supermodel, because I played the test server twice.

Unfortunately, he didn't know that he was currently just a lazy bum, reciting the Book of Rites until he was questioning his existence, sprawled on the table making cat pancakes.

"The way of the Great Learning consists in manifesting one's bright virtue, in loving the people, and in abiding in perfect goodness."

“Those in ancient times who wished to manifest their virtue to the world first ordered well their states; those who wished to order well their states first regulated their families; those who wished to regulate their families first cultivated their personal lives; those who wished to cultivate their personal lives first rectified their hearts; those who wished to rectify their hearts first made their intentions sincere; those who wished to make their intentions sincere first extended their knowledge; the extension of knowledge lies in the investigation of things.”

"Virtue is the root, wealth is the branch. If the root is neglected and the branch is neglected, the people will fight and plunder."

"..."

"..."

Fusu sat alone in his dormitory, repeatedly reciting the words that sounded like tongue twisters.

Alas, he had hoped countless times that Confucianism would become a prominent school of thought, but who could have imagined that after his dream came true, things would turn out this way? If you were to tell his first incarnation that he would one day suffer because of the prominence of Confucianism, that version of himself would surely scoff at it.

But now, after a full hour of memorizing, his throat was parched, his head was spinning, and he lay listlessly on his desk, barely managing to memorize half of the 100,000-word "Book of Rites." He didn't even notice when Su Shi had uninvited him to his dormitory.

"What's wrong? Are you sick? You look so tired." A clear voice rang out from behind.

Fusu turned around weakly: "I didn't..."

It's simply because I couldn't finish memorizing the material, and I lost my dreams.

Su Shi leaned closer to the desk: "Hmm? The Book of Rites?"

He immediately understood Fusu's reason for being so lazy: "Can't finish memorizing? It's okay, I haven't finished memorizing either. Judging from your appearance, you must be hungry. Let's go to the dining hall for a meal... Don't want to go to the dining hall? Okay, then I'll take you to Xiangguo Temple Night Market, but let's make it clear first, I don't have any money on me, we can only smell the aroma, and then go back to the dining hall to eat after we've smelled our fill."

"...You didn't spend all your money on Dongjun, did you?"

"You got it right."

Su Shi helplessly spread his hands: no one in his family held an official position, and renting a house in Bianjing was already an extra expense. Of course, he couldn't ask for more. As for the pocket money he had saved? It was all spent on Dongjun (a cat breeder), and besides hiring a cat breeder, raising a cat breeder was also an expensive undertaking.

Fusu recalled that Su Shi had jokingly said before that if Zhang Jifu hired someone to copy the textbook at a high price, he would definitely do it. At that time, he and his fellow students thought Su Shi was joking and all gave him a look of disdain.

I didn't expect it was because they were really short of money.

Fusu sighed: Who can stand by and watch the future top gourmet of the Song Dynasty suffer such a loss of taste? What if he starves and is forced to lower his standards of food, and then can't invent Dongpo pork, Dongpo elbow, Dongpo fish, Dongpo soup, Dongpo cake... or Dongpo lamb bone?

"Gurgle—"

Fusu looked down at his stomach: Oh no, what am I going to do if I get hungry from thinking about it?

He stopped acting like a lazy bum, patted his pockets, and rummaged through his luggage again: "Let's go, let's go to Xiangguo Temple Night Market for a meal."

I had just told Zeng Gong during the day that I would be a regular at the canteen and not go to the night market, but I was proven wrong that very night.

Su Shi asked, "The two of us? Go to the night market for dinner?"

Fusu tilted his head: "Yes."

"You're treating me?"

"That's right."

"That won't do."

On this issue, Su Shi displayed astonishing resolve: "Even the poor do not accept food offered with contempt. I have hands and feet, and I am older than you, so how can I take advantage of you for nothing?"

"..."

Fusu was speechless for a moment.

He was about to say it was nothing, just a meal. But seeing Su Shi's expression, he knew this wasn't something he could easily compromise on. Even in modern times, people split the bill when making friends; ancient scholars valued integrity even more, and being invited to a meal could be a matter of personal dignity.

What should we do then?

Am I going to have to swallow pork from the cafeteria again?

After much thought, Fusu realized that Su Shi's initial suggestion to "go to the Xiangguo Temple night market, smell the aromas to our heart's content, and then return to the dining hall to fill our stomachs" was the most reasonable solution.

But... that sounds so tragic.

Is it really necessary to do this?

If the Emperor and Empress were to hear that he had done this, they would be both angry and anxious, and would bring him back from the Imperial Academy overnight.

"Let's go, Zhao Xiaolang, let's go to the entrance of the dining hall ahead of time and wait, or there won't be any food left."

"Wait!" Fusu broke free from Su Shi's arm. "You said you don't want to accept charity? Then how about an equal exchange? Do me a favor, and I'll treat you to a meal, okay?"

Su Shi immediately understood what his friend meant.

"But... it seems like you don't need my help with anything."

Fusu silently glanced around the room: although it was filled with things, it was very clean and didn't look messy at all. Sigh, the palace eunuchs are so capable, how did it become a bad thing?

When he glanced at a brocade box containing syrup, his eyes suddenly lit up as he recalled his experience of giving gifts during the day.

"I don't need your or my help."

"How about we set up a stall at the Xiangguo Temple night market together and make money from customers?"