: The teacher examined him, and he memorized everything he read.

Wansong Academy is not located within Qiantang County, but rather in the mountains outside the city.

"Brother Liang, look!" Zhu Yingtai pointed ahead, her voice filled with surprise.

Liang Shanbo looked in the direction she was pointing and saw a cluster of gray-blue rooftops nestled among the pines and cypresses in the valley ahead. The eaves of the rooftops turned up, outlining graceful curves.

As you get closer, you'll see a white wall covered in vines, with clumps of wildflowers—red, white, and purple—growing at its base, a beautiful sight indeed.

"Wansong Academy," Liang Shanbo murmured.

This is where Meng Wenlang gave lectures.

Walking along a path paved with bluestone, you'll find pine trees planted on both sides, their lush foliage blocking out the sun. The sound of the pines rustling in the wind is like the undulating waves, creating a magnificent and awe-inspiring scene.

No wonder it's called "Wansong Academy".

After passing through the pine forest, we arrived at the school gate.

The school's main gate was made of wood and painted dark brown. Above the gate hung a plaque with the four large characters "Wansong Academy" written in vigorous strokes. Two stone drums stood below the gate, their surfaces carved with auspicious cloud patterns. Despite the erosion of wind and rain, the patterns were still clearly discernible.

A wooden couplet hangs on either side of the door. The first line reads, "The sound of pines echoes through ten thousand valleys," and the second line reads, "Thousands of scrolls continue lost learning." The characters are in running script, elegant and unrestrained, reminiscent of the style of the Wei and Jin dynasties.

Liang Shanbo stood in front of the door, gazing at the plaque and wooden couplet, a complex emotion suddenly welling up in his heart.

He thought of his father in this life, the poor scholar named Liang Yuanqing, whose only wish before his death was for his son to be able to study at Wansong Academy.

During the Eastern Jin Dynasty, the official schools were mainly the Imperial Academy and the National Academy, with some local prefecture and state schools that were sometimes established and sometimes abolished.

Wansong Academy was quite famous, but it was only a private school. However, for Liang Shanbo, being able to study there was already a great opportunity. If it weren't for his grandfather in this life having taught Meng Wenlang, his family's current status and wealth would not have been able to enter Wansong Academy.

This is the reality of our time.

The aristocratic system was like an insurmountable chasm, dividing people into different classes. If you belonged to the Wang clan of Langya, the Xie clan of Chenjun, or the Huan clan of Longkang, even if you were a fool, you could easily obtain the best resources; if you were from a poor commoner family, even if you were exceptionally talented, you could only struggle.

"The highest ranks have no poor families, the lowest ranks have no powerful clans!"

Liang Shanbo had memorized this sentence when he studied history in his previous life. Back then, it was just a dry summary in a textbook, far removed from his life.

But now, living in this era, living as a child from a poor family, this statement is no longer just empty talk, but a real mountain weighing on his shoulders.

At this moment, a gatekeeper came forward and asked, "Where do you two young men come from? What brings you here?"

Liang Shanbo cupped his hands and said, "I am Liang Shanbo from Shanyin, and this is Zhu Jiuling from Shangyu. We have come to pay our respects to Mr. Meng with a letter of recommendation. Please announce our arrival."

The servant responded and turned to enter the school.

Before long, the servant returned and led Liang Shanbo, Zhu Yingtai, and Yin Xin into the school.

The layout of the school was typical of a private school in the Eastern Jin Dynasty, with a lecture hall in the front courtyard, dormitories for teachers and students in the back courtyard, and a library and study rooms on the east and west sides.

The school was quite large and elegantly decorated. Dozens of bamboo stalks were planted in the front yard, and under the bamboo was a small pond with a few red carp and a few water lilies floating on the surface.

Before long, Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai entered Meng Wenlang's study.

Meng Wenlang was a middle-aged man, thin in build, wearing a gray linen robe, a belt around his waist, and a turban on his head.

Liang Shanbo bowed and said, "Student Liang Shanbo greets Mr. Meng."

Zhu Yingtai also bowed, saying, "Student Zhu Jiuling greets Mr. Meng."

After explaining his purpose, Liang Shanbo took out a bamboo tube from his bosom. The bamboo tube was not large, about a foot long and as thick as a thumb. It was coated with tung oil and tied with a red rope.

Liang Shanbo held the bamboo tube with both hands and respectfully handed it to Meng Wenlang.

Meng Wenlang took the bamboo tube and pulled out a roll of paper. The paper was coarse hemp paper, yellowish in color. It was Liang Yuanqing's letter of recommendation.

He slowly unrolled the paper; the letter read:

"Brother Meng, it is said that several years have passed since we last parted. I know that I am seriously ill and my time is near. My only concern is for my son, Shanbo. He is of good character, filial, and has a passion for learning. I have never sought fame or fortune in my life, but I only wish that he can find a good teacher, learn the ways of the sages, and become a useful person."

Brother, you are a teacher at Wansong Academy, with countless students. I, your humble servant, humbly request that you, in gratitude for our late father's teachings, accept this child into your academy. My family is poor, and I fear I cannot afford the tuition. I only hope that you, in consideration of our past relationship, will grant me some leeway. If you would so kindly grant my request, I would be eternally grateful, even in the afterlife. Your humble servant, Yuanqing, bows deeply.

The letter was short, less than two hundred words, yet it fully expressed a father's concern for his son on his deathbed.

After reading the letter, Meng Wenlang's gaze softened, and he said to Liang Shanbo, "Since your father has recommended you here, I will take you in. You don't need to worry about tuition; it can be waived."

Liang Shanbo lowered his head and bowed deeply: "I will never forget your kindness, sir."

Meng Wenlang nodded slightly and looked at Zhu Yingtai: "Where's your recommendation letter?"

Zhu Yingtai quickly took out her letter of recommendation and handed it over with both hands. Her letter of recommendation was written on the finest yellow hemp paper and placed in an exquisite brocade pouch embroidered with orchid patterns, clearly the work of a wealthy family.

Meng Wenlang took it, unfolded it, and nodded: "A letter of recommendation from Zhou Mingyuan of Shangyu. Zhou Mingyuan and I have known each other for a long time. Since he said you are 'innately intelligent and have solid knowledge,' it must be true."

Zhu Yingtai bowed and said, "Mr. Zhou, you flatter me. I am ashamed."

Meng Wenlang's gaze swept over Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai's faces, then he changed the subject: "The academy has two dormitories, A and B. Those with a solid foundation in their studies will go to dormitory A, and those with a weaker foundation will go to dormitory B. Since you two have come to study, you should first take a test to see which dormitory is more suitable for you."

Zhu Yingtai glanced at Liang Shanbo subconsciously.

Liang Shanbo remained calm and bowed, saying, "That's only right. Please, sir, give me the question."

Meng Wenlang asked, "What books have you read? What is your academic foundation like?"

After a moment's thought, Liang Shanbo replied, "My family has only a few dozen books, mainly classics and history. I have been studying with my father since I was a child, and I have read the Book of Poetry, the Book of Documents, the Book of Changes, the Book of Rites, and the Spring and Autumn Annals. In addition, I have also read the Analects, the Classic of Filial Piety, the Erya, and some chapters of the Records of the Grand Historian and the Book of Han. Although I have not read many books, I have the ability to memorize what I read, and I have already memorized all the dozens of books in my family."

He knew that for someone from a poor family like himself to gain Meng Wenlang's attention, he had to demonstrate abilities that would amaze Meng Wenlang.

"A photographic memory?" Meng Wenlang raised an eyebrow slightly, his eyes scrutinizing him. "I've lived for forty years, taught for ten, and met countless talented individuals, but I've only ever seen people with photographic memory in books, never in person. Can you truly have a photographic memory?"

Liang Shanbo said, "This student is willing to accept the test on the spot."

Zhu Yingtai looked at Liang Shanbo with a mixture of surprise and doubt. She only knew that Liang Shanbo had a good memory, but she did not know that it was so good that he could memorize anything he saw.

Meng Wenlang paused for a moment, then got up and walked to the bookshelf, taking a book down from it.

Books of this era were primarily paper scrolls, which consisted of multiple sheets of paper glued together into a long roll, with a wooden or bamboo shaft attached to the end. When unrolling, the scroll was slowly laid out from right to left, and after reading, it was rolled up from left to right and stored on the shaft. This was quite different from later page-turning books; unfolding it required holding the shaft in one hand and unrolling the scroll with the other, giving it a somewhat solemn feel.

The scroll that Meng Wenlang had just taken was not long, consisting of only about ten sheets of paper glued together, rolled up, and tied with a thin hemp rope.

Meng Wenlang untied the hemp rope and handed the scroll to Liang Shanbo: "This is a manuscript I recently wrote. If you can read this manuscript once and recite it from memory, then I will believe that you have the ability to memorize anything you read."

Upon hearing this, Zhu Yingtai couldn't help but feel worried for Liang Shanbo.

She had thought Meng Wenlang would test Liang Shanbo with a common scripture, but unexpectedly, he brought her newly written manuscript. Liang Shanbo couldn't possibly have memorized this manuscript beforehand; to truly memorize it, he would have to rely entirely on his memory on the spot.

Liang Shanbo remained calm, took the scroll of manuscript, unfolded it, and examined it.

The manuscript contains five highly academic essays, totaling about five thousand words. It has a unique style, uses numerous allusions, and employs archaic syntax. It is not something that ordinary people can easily understand, let alone memorize on the spot.

It's not too difficult for Liang Shanbo, but he can't be careless either.

His gaze immediately moved across the scroll of paper, line after line of words coming into view. He was focused and calm, neither frowning because the manuscript was obscure nor tense because of its extensive content.

He concentrated intently, his mind racing, memorizing each word. He didn't speak, but his lips moved slightly, as if reciting them silently.

He quickly took in the last line of words, then rolled up the paper and returned it to Meng Wenlang with both hands.

"Have you finished reading?" Meng Wenlang asked.

"I've finished reading it," Liang Shanbo replied.

"Can I carry it now?"

"Can."

Meng Wenlang nodded, looking calmly at Liang Shanbo.

Liang Shanbo took a deep breath, closed his eyes slightly, cleared his throat, and began reciting from the first essay, "On Xinting".

"In the land of Jiangzuo, the people of Chu once cut off their feet and wept for jade, while Bian He embraced the uncarved jade until it was finally unearthed; the King of Yue slept on firewood and tasted gall, and Goujian swallowed the Wu soldiers and avenged himself. Today's scholars and officials, bearing sorrow and resentment, merely imitate the Chu prisoners weeping, no different from waiting for a rabbit to run into a tree stump. Wang Maohong said: 'Strive for the royal house and recover the Central Plains.' These words are magnificent, but looking at his construction of the government and his efforts to reconcile the Central Plains, it is like trying to untangle silk by making it tangled..."

This essay, "On Xinting," takes Wang Dao's "devotion to the royal family and the recovery of the Central Plains" as its benchmark. It fiercely criticizes the Eastern Jin scholars' tendency to indulge in empty talk, discussing fate, and weeping in vain. It advocates emulating pragmatists such as Bian He, Goujian, Zu Ti, Tao Kan, and Wen Qiao to change the fate of the nation through human effort.

Liang Shanbo's voice was not loud, but clear and powerful, echoing in the quiet study.

Meng Wenlang initially sat upright, but after listening for a few sentences, his body involuntarily leaned forward slightly. He had only intended to test Liang Shanbo's memory and didn't really believe that Liang Shanbo could memorize things at a glance. But as he listened, his expression changed from calm to surprise, and then from surprise to shock.

"If a tiger or rhinoceros escapes from its cage, or a tortoise or jade is destroyed in its box, whose fault is it? We should emulate Wen Tingyun, who burned a rhinoceros horn to illuminate the water, and the wicked were revealed. If we can work together with one heart and one mind, then a bronze camel can be pulled out of thorns, and a stone rhinoceros can subdue a flood. Otherwise, we will only imitate the weeping at Xinting, and in the end, we will only be laughed at by Mao Hong."

After reciting "On Xinting," Liang Shanbo continued reciting other essays from the manuscript...