Chapter 92, "Three Scholars, including 'Red Sleeves Adding Fragrance'..."

The student who posed the question clutched his cotton gloves, his lips trembling, his brow furrowed with intense excitement. Before traveling to the capital for further studies, he had lived in the Northwest, a region where winters were several times harsher than in Bianjing, and the number of people freezing to death remained consistently high each year. The frigid weather also allowed the Western Xia to frequently raid the Song Dynasty's borders, causing immense suffering to the border inhabitants.

The moment these incredibly warm gloves appeared, he was captivated. He was so engrossed that he abandoned his carefully prepared questions to find out more: "Could you please tell me about the origin of this item? It... it might be something that could save millions of lives!"

These words caused an uproar in the room.

They were all students who had come to witness Zhao Xiaolang's charm, and they all knew what the others were thinking. So, what kind of musical chairs could make people change their tune so quickly, even calling it something that "saved millions of lives"?

Immediately someone asked, "May we take a look?"

The student nodded: "Of course."

He then handed the gloves behind him, and they were immediately snatched up by several hands. The person who grabbed them couldn't wait to caress and examine them.

Because it was designed to be a prop, it was dyed a bright red and shaped like a flower. However, once you put it on your hand, a stuffy, suffocating feeling immediately enveloped your entire palm. Looking at its stitching, it didn't resemble any known fabric like silk or linen. No wonder, no wonder it was called "the name of the person who saved you."

The wider the news spread, the louder the exclamations of admiration grew. Immediately, everyone looked up, their eyes fixed intently on the person at the head of the table. At that moment, they had long forgotten their dreams of challenging the organizers; figuring out what was in front of them was the real priority! Some even had a vague feeling that they might be witnessing history.

Yang Anguo turned his head away: "Since this item was brought to the literary gathering by Zhao Xiaosanyuan, let Sanyuan speak about it."

Fusu nodded: "Okay."

His dark, round eyes first turned to the student who had asked the question: "I haven't yet asked you, senior, your honorable name?"

"I haven't even taken the imperial examination yet, so I dare not accept the honor of being addressed as 'Senior Brother' by the top scholar."

After exchanging pleasantries, he introduced himself: "My surname is Zhang, my given name is Zai, my courtesy name is Zihou, and I am from Hengqu... Sanyuan, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

Fusu's face contorted with rage: "I dropped the stool."

Just now, when he heard the name "Zhang Zai," he was so startled that his elbow slipped on his leg. Losing his balance, he slid off the ill-fitting adult stool. The pain in his elbow and knee made him grimace; he'd probably have a large bruise by now.

But that's not the point.

The key point is that his name was Zhang Zai! The Zhang Zai from the Fourth Bureau of Hengqu!

How lucky I am! I just casually passed the parcel to a famous person! Fusu was secretly pleased for a while. But there were too many similar surprises, and Fusu's joy didn't last long, quickly turning into a sense of determination. "Mr. Hengqu, since you've joined the literary gathering, I'll leave the task of publishing the anthology to you!"

Zhang Zai, of course, had no idea how the Xiao Sanyuan he admired had arranged things for him. He simply repeated his request with utmost sincerity: "Please ask Fusu to tell me the origin of cotton."

"Hmm, I'm not too sure either."

Fusu said.

One sentence instantly extinguished the bright eyes of everyone present. Zhang Zai lowered his head with immense regret, but secretly clenched his fingers into a fist, as if he wouldn't give up until he found it.

In his early years, someone in his family held an official position. After his family fell into poverty, he moved to the northwest to live with relatives. Deeply moved by the poverty of the border people and the troubles caused by the Western Xia's harassment of the border, he wrote a lengthy treatise on military strategy for Fan Zhongyan. The latter actually read the military strategy written by this commoner and, appreciating his talent, kindly advised him to "abandon military affairs and pursue literature." Zhang Zai's opportunity to study at the Imperial Academy was also thanks to Fan Zhongyan.

He had originally aspired to delve into scholarship in Bianjing, establish his own school of thought, and become a great Confucian scholar. But in just a short quarter of an hour, he suddenly changed his life's ambition—finding cotton, promoting its cultivation, and making a living for the people of the region would also be a good thing.

But Zhao Xiaosanyuan's next words made him suddenly raise his head, and his previously extinguished hope was rekindled: "Because I also obtained it by chance from the imperial court. When asked about the origin of this plant, none of them would say, probably for fear of being leaked?"

Fusu said.

He intended to keep the accidental discovery by the Court of State Ceremonial a secret forever. The benefits of cotton to the nation's strength were immense. If both Liao and Xia possessed cotton products, allowing their subjects to stay warm through the winter, the harm to the people of the Song Dynasty would be immeasurable. If he were the ruler of Liao or Xia, knowing that cotton originated from the far south, even if the possibility was extremely small, he would send people to try it.

If Liaoxia were to actually make contact with the small southern states, things would be even more disastrous.

Therefore, Fusu chose to remain unaware. He was merely a newly appointed "agricultural envoy" who had gone to his workplace in advance to scout out the area. His encounter with cotton was purely accidental; he casually took a few finished products with him, never expecting it to cause such a huge uproar.

"So, that means... the imperial court has already discovered this plant and started large-scale cultivation?"

Fusu nodded firmly: "Yes!"

"Very good!"

After cheering, Zhang Zai belatedly covered his mouth, as if afraid of disturbing something: "Should this be kept secret?"

Fusu replied, "I've already brought it out, why should I keep it a secret? Sooner or later you'll all find out anyway."

"Oh, right." He seemed to suddenly remember something: "The Emperor appointed me as the Agricultural Promotion Commissioner, intending for me to promote this product throughout the country. Now that you all have seen it, I would like to ask you all to write an article to introduce it to me, would that be alright?"

No one cared anymore that "My God, Zhao Xiaosanyuan was personally selected by the emperor and entrusted with important responsibilities as soon as he entered officialdom." All they saw was that glittering pie in the sky—they were the first people to see cotton, and also the first scholars qualified to write a monument to it.

In other words, when cotton was widely distributed, but literary giants such as Fan Zhongyan and Ouyang Xiu had not yet written articles, what circulated among scholars and students was not their writings.

This is a great opportunity to make a name for yourself!

Many scholars sought official positions and wealth, while others, like Zhang Zai, were uninterested in the imperial examinations and devoted themselves solely to writing and establishing their doctrines. But for both, reputation was an indispensable resource. The former could gain them patronage from merchants, high-ranking officials, or even the emperor's favor; the latter, however, without a good reputation, how could they possibly write and establish their doctrines? No one would recognize their worth!

Fusu's actions were akin to creating a pie for himself and then sharing it with everyone. He could have easily claimed the title of "initiator" for himself, further enhancing his reputation.

Those who understand this will look at him with a filter of saintly Messiah.

But if you ask Fusu, since he clearly knows that the Song Dynasty has no shortage of, and even an overabundance of, scholars, why not make use of them? Free writers, and even free commissions—what a bargain!

Look, not a single person in the audience is unwilling; they're all vying to write it.

Even Yang Anguo, who was sitting to the side, said, "I am also a participant in this gathering. I wonder if I could be included as one of the attendees?"

His sole responsibility was maintaining order; Fusu's speeches were all prepared by himself. With Yang Anguo's discerning eye, he could easily tell that only three parts were true, and seven parts were false. How could a newly appointed top scholar like himself dare to flaunt cotton products, secretly prepared by the emperor and unknown even to high-ranking officials, in the marketplace? Could he really just casually pass them around for others to see? Wouldn't the emperor cause him trouble?

However, he and Mei Yaochen had discussed the strangeness of Zhao Xiaolang's background before, and he already had a general idea. As for the rhetoric, truth or falsehood didn't matter, as long as it worked. To be honest, Zhao Xiaolang's words even made him itch, wanting to pick up his pen again after a long time of inactivity.

Fusu nodded excitedly, "Of course! It would be wonderful if you were willing to write it!"

Although Yang Jijiu's reputation faded in later generations, his abilities during his time were considerable. Those with far superior scholarship and literary talent were few and far between. Having someone like that write promotional articles for him was actually a win for Yang.

As for the compilation and layout...

"Since you are the first person to ask me what this is, Brother Zihou, I would like to entrust the subsequent work of compiling and typesetting it to you, how about that?"

Zhang Zai was immediately flattered and pointed to himself: "Me?"

"Um!"

He was about to decline, thinking that he, a commoner, was not qualified. But Fusu would never let go of the craftsman he had his eye on: "Brother Zihou, you can see its extraordinary qualities at a glance and even connect it to the livelihood of the common people, which is enough to show that you have a deep connection with this thing, isn't it?"

He then launched an adorable offensive, blinking his big, dark eyes: "Just consider it a favor, I owe you one, okay?"

Having said all that, Zhang Zai had no choice but to agree, wearing an expression that said he had "gotten a great deal." Those around him looked at him with envy and resentment. But Fusu thought to himself: "Look to the future. A thousand years from now, who knows who will have the better deal?"

After finalizing this deal, which both sides felt they had made a great profit, Fusu set a deadline for submitting the manuscript and obtained Zhang Zai's contact information before quietly leaving amidst a lively discussion.

By the time someone snapped out of their fervent discussion and realized that the original protagonist of the literary gathering had disappeared, Fusu had already arrived outside the Imperial Academy.

Just kidding, do you think I don't know what those people who want to ask questions are thinking? I'm not going to give you the chance to stump me.

Having been the reincarnation of the God of Literature and a prodigy for almost a month, he must have some burdens, you know.

However, the main purpose of this literary gathering—that is, to distribute all the cotton as reference samples to the students—is still unknown. I wonder what kind of articles they will write?

Fusu rubbed his hands together, filled with anticipation.

-

"This isn't right..."

A few days later, Fusu was flipping through the collected articles one by one, and Wu Yingying's eyes were full of disbelief: "No, why are they writing nonsense?"

Zhang Zai looked troubled: "Sanyuan, should we publish this article or not?"

Do you think this can be published?

Fusu picked up one at random, his tender voice filled with speechlessness and frustration: "I clearly asked them to write advertorials! What kind of nonsense is this, writing a story about a poor scholar studying hard at night, attracting the attention of a cotton fairy who adds fragrance to his sleeves and drapes a warm coat over him?!"

"...Wait, Zihou, what's with that expression? Did I say something wrong?"

Zhang Zai's expression was inscrutable: "You even know about 'a beautiful woman adding fragrance to one's sleeves'? You really know a lot."

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Author's Note: I apologize to everyone. I had promised to write 5000 words, but my finger suddenly flared up, so that's all for today. I might need to take a day off after this month to give my hand a rest.

I'm giving away 20 red envelopes to everyone in this chapter (bows).