Kidnapping the entire Journey to the West, starting by turning Sun Wukong against his own side.

Chapter 198 The school is too crowded

The newly turned land to the east was still damp.

Pigsy dragged the plow back and forth twice, his back covered in mud. He planted the plowshare on the ridge, wiped his face, and roared into the distance, "Who's providing lunch?"

The kitchen staff responded first: "Finish tilling the floor first!"

A burst of laughter erupted in the courtyard.

Chen Fan handed the last small plow to the person behind him and was about to return to the warehouse when Si Mo strode over from the other side of the stone path, carrying a thin wooden board in his hand.

"Something happened at the school."

Chen Fan stopped in his tracks: "Who's causing this trouble?"

"I'm not kidding," Si Mo shook his head, "There's no more room."

These words may sound light, but they carry a heavy weight.

Chen Fan followed him westward. Before they even reached the school gate, they could hear the children reciting their lessons, one after another, like a honeycomb. A few steps further, the path became crowded. A row of little ones squatted against the wall, clutching wooden plaques in their hands, their feet covered in the wet mud of the harbor. Several other teenagers stood by the door, rope loops draped over their shoulders; they were clearly helping out at the market, carrying goods.

Chen Fan paused for a moment when he looked further inside.

The long table that was originally set up is now completely full.

Someone was sitting under the windowsill.

A person was sitting by the doorstep.

Two rows of benches were even placed outside the kitchen, and the boy tending the fire by the stove was reciting "Heaven, Earth, and Man" along with the teacher.

Xuanzang stood under the eaves, holding the ruler in his hand. His voice was hoarse, but he still had to press down again and again: "Those in front, move in an inch. Those in the back, don't step on the inkstone."

"If you move any further, you'll fall into the ditch!" someone shouted from inside the house.

Wukong squatted on the wall watching the commotion, laughing so hard he slapped his knees: "Your school is even fiercer than the peach-sharing ceremony at Flower Fruit Mountain."

Xuanzang glared at him, but didn't have time to pay attention to him. He turned around and went to help the little girl who was about to sit in the water vat.

Chen Fan walked to the door and first saw several new faces.

Two of them were from the Nameless Island, their hair shaved haphazardly, their cuffs still bearing old patches. There were seven or eight more children from the Two Realms Market area, their eyes darting around, never settling down, their fingers constantly tapping on the edge of the table. The group furthest inside, their shoes stained with salt, were gifts from families whose ships had returned from the port area.

"Did they come in the last few days?" Chen Fan asked.

Si Mo handed him the wooden board: "Three days. Twenty-seven on the first day. Thirty-one on the second day. Nineteen more came this morning."

Chen Fan glanced down and saw that the names he remembered were a jumbled mess. Some didn't even have surnames, just names like Gou Sheng, A Qi, and Xiao Xie Ke.

"What happened to the original companies?"

"They're still going strong." Si Mo lowered his voice. "Nobody's willing to back down. They all say that if you can read, you can read the contract and recognize the seal, so you won't suffer losses later."

This is true.

A few days ago, the well house was sealed off from the echo, and new regulations were implemented at the granary; everyone saw it. The difference between those who can read and those who can't immediately become apparent. Those who can read can check route slips, match bell numbers, and see who's lying. Those who can't read can only stand at the back and listen to what others say.

It's not surprising that the school was suddenly packed.

As soon as Chen Fan steadied himself, a young man inside the room raised his hand high: "Sir, he pushed me!"

Another person nearby immediately retorted, "You have a big butt, whose fault is that!"

The room erupted in another round of laughter.

Xuanzang tapped the doorframe with a ruler, finally quieting things down. He walked towards Chen Fan, his sleeves stained with ink.

"I had intended to hold out until the end of the month," Xuanzang said in a low voice, "but I can't hold on any longer."

"Not enough, sir?"

"Not only that." Xuanzang glanced back. "There aren't enough desks, not enough nameplates, not enough water, and not even enough outhouses. As soon as the doors open in the morning, the first thing you see is a stall."

Upon hearing this, Wukong nearly slid off the wall.

Chen Fan couldn't help but chuckle. After laughing, he glanced around the courtyard, but the slight relief he felt quickly vanished.

This isn't just about adding a few stools.

When there are many people, old habits tend to resurface.

Sure enough, before long, people were already waiting outside the courtyard to speak.

Three groups arrived.

The man in front was from an old shipping company in the port area, surnamed Lu, who used to be in charge of accounts. He cupped his hands in greeting and spoke very politely: "Mr. Chen, a school needs to have some rules. Nowadays, all sorts of children are being crammed in, and the teachers can't teach them all. It would be better to divide them up first."

Chen Fan looked at him: "How do we divide it?"

Shopkeeper Lu coughed and said, "Those who can read should be in one class. Those who can't read should be in another. The older ones should learn arithmetic and contracts first, and the younger ones should memorize characters first. This way it will be easier."

Another person chimed in faster; it was a carpenter who had recently joined the market: "I think it should still be based on social status. Accountants should learn accounting. Craftsmen should learn to read and write. Those who work at the docks just need to be able to keep count; there's no need for them all to crowd into one place."

As soon as he finished speaking, someone behind him frowned.

A woman from an unnamed island, holding her youngest son, hesitated for a long time before finally speaking: "Your child can learn to write, but mine can only recognize numbers?"

The carpenter's face stiffened: "That's not what I meant. I meant saving manpower."

"Whose manpower are we saving?" the woman asked, staring at him. "Your, or your family's benches?"

The courtyard fell silent.

Some people who were nodding earlier are now silent.

Chen Fan was all too familiar with this kind of talk. When there are too many people in an old place, someone will always think about ranking first. First they decide who's superior and who's inferior, then they talk about convenience, and in the end, that door will only get narrower and narrower.

Xuanzang stood to the side, slowly rubbing his fingers on the ruler, saying nothing. He wanted to hear Chen Fan's judgment.

Chen Fan didn't rush back. He first went into the pile of benches outside the kitchen. Several children were tucking their legs in to make way for him. He bent down and picked up a discarded wooden sign from the ground. The character "仓" (cang, meaning warehouse) was crookedly written on it, with half of "田" (tian, meaning field) added below it.

The writer was clearly in a hurry; the knife cuts into two pieces.

"Who wrote this?"

In the corner, a thin, dark-skinned boy timidly raised his hand. He had just returned from the port area; his father had been carrying sacks at the docks not long ago.

"What do you want to learn?" Chen Fan asked.

The child paused for a moment, then said after a long pause, "I recognize it immediately."

"Why admit it?"

"I want to recognize the waybill. I want to recognize the ship's tag. I also want to recognize the notices." After he finished speaking, he added, "My mother said it would be good if I could recognize the words on the medicine packets."

No one in the courtyard laughed.

Manager Nalu pulled his sleeves in further and didn't reply.

Chen Fan handed the wooden plaque back and then looked at the people who had made the suggestion at the door.

"Class assignment, okay."

The carpenter's eyes lit up.

Chen Fan immediately cut him off with his next sentence: "Distribute according to progress, not by social status. Whoever learns first moves on. Whoever doesn't know it, makes up for it. If you're slow today, catch up tomorrow. The children of carpenters can listen to contracts, and the children of dockworkers can learn accounting. Even those from the Nameless Island can memorize laws if they want to."

"And the craftsmanship?" the carpenter couldn't help but ask.

"Craftsmanship is another matter," Chen Fan said. "Literacy is the foundation. Mathematics is also the foundation. If the foundation isn't even laid, no one should rush to build the roof for someone else."

After these words were spoken, many people in the courtyard breathed a sigh of relief.

Xuanzang nodded, clearly having been holding back this for a long time.

Manager Lu, however, was still unwilling to give up: "But the place is only so big right now. We can't just keep making a ruckus all day long. There has to be a proper order."

"Yes." Chen Fan pointed to the old wall of the school, "Let's tear it down first."

Everyone was stunned.

Wukong laughed first, then jumped down from the wall: "I love this line."

Xuanzang quickly replied, "There's a vegetable garden behind here."

"The vegetable garden can be moved again," Chen Fan said. "The school can't always be crammed into these two rooms."

Si Mo understood the meaning, immediately flipped the wooden board over, and began to write.

Chen Fan spoke quickly as he looked at the document, focusing on things that needed to be done immediately.

"First, add a shed. We'll start building the wooden frame today. Move the kitchen half a zhang to the south and reroute the flue. Tear down that earthen wall on the west side, leaving a doorway. The older children will have morning and evening lessons. Those who can work during the day can come in the evening. We'll also have more than one teacher; we'll select literate veterans, accountants who can do math, and those who have experience with contracts."

Xuanzang asked, "Who sets the schedule?"

"Let's get down to basics first," Chen Fan said. "Learn to read, count, read contracts, and recognize maps. Don't talk about abstract concepts; teach what you can use right now."

Wukong interjected, "Then I'll teach you staff techniques?"

"You're in charge of setting the rules," Chen Fan said, looking at him. "Who climbs through windows, who steals seats, who throws wooden signs at people—that's none of your business."

Wukong grinned and said, "Okay."

The children in the yard immediately shrank back.

At this moment, an elderly woman who had remained silent slowly pushed her way to the front. She was one of the earliest washerwomen to have moved here with the market; her fingers were thick and her back was hunched. She looked at the overcrowded schoolhouse and whispered, "Mr. Chen, this is no longer a schoolhouse."

Chen Fan turned his head: "What's that?"

The old woman was missing a tooth, so her speech was slurred, but she spoke steadily: "It has to be called an academy. There will be more children, more teachers, and more rules. We can't just make do with borrowing two rooms like before."

Si Mo paused, then looked up at her.

Xuanzang was also taken aback.

The people in the courtyard didn't react at first. After a few moments, someone repeated in a low voice, "The academy..."

As soon as those two words were uttered, even those who had proposed dividing people into different social classes fell silent.

It's not because the name is big.

Suddenly everyone realized that this matter would not just be about a pot, a room, and a few long desks.

Chen Fan looked at the old wall, its base worn smooth by the children, the window paper covered in tiny handprints. Inside, they were still reciting, their words disordered yet energetic, one after another.

He nodded.

"Then let's start with the academy."

Si Mo immediately wrote two characters heavily on the wooden board, the ink spreading out.

The boy tending the fire by the kitchen door poked his head out, his nose still covered in ash: "So, am I still going to class today?"

Chen Fan turned to look at him: "Go."

"Who's watching the pot?"

Pigsy had somehow joined in, picked up a spatula and slung it over his shoulder: "Let me see."

The boy's eyes widened: "Can you?"

Pigsy rolled up his sleeves and went straight into the kitchen: "You go read your lines. If it burns, it's on me."

Soon, a series of rattling sounds came from inside.

The courtyard suddenly became lively again. Some people went to measure the wall, some went to move wood, and some children carried the nameplates to the side. Xuanzang stood at the door, cleared his throat, and raised his ruler to call the roll again. Wukong had already jumped onto the top of the wall, holding his golden cudgel to the old earthen wall, choosing which spot to strike first.

Chen Fan didn't say anything more. He rolled up his sleeves and went over to pull out the old wooden stake by the door with Shi Laoliu.

The wooden stakes were buried deep, and the mud was full of fine roots.

The two swayed back and forth a few times before the stake loosened.

With a whoosh, half a basket of yellow soil fell from the corner of the wall.

Inside the house, the skinny, dark-skinned boy, holding the wooden plaque, took advantage of the chaos to add another cut to the character "仓" (cang).

Chapter 702 Ranking List

The next morning, before the courtyard wall was even completely demolished, three people arrived at the school gate.

One was Lu Cheng, the boatman from Dongbu. He had thick arms, but carried a thin bamboo book in his hand. Another was Han Jiu, the old canal chief from the west canal, whose shoes were covered in wet mud. There was also a woman named Sang Qiniang, who usually managed the market's accounts and could move the abacus beads faster than she could talk.

The three of them didn't go inside; they stood at the bottom of the stone steps and waited.

Xuanzang was teaching the child to read when he heard a noise outside. He looked up, then tapped the wooden board with the ruler.

"Keep reading."

Inside, the children were shouting at the top of their lungs: "Granary, canal, boat, tent—"

The voices, some high, some low, were so loud they made the paper windows tremble.

Chen Fan straightened up from the wall, his hands still covered in dirt. He leaned the wooden stake aside and went to help the person.

Lu Cheng first cupped his hands in a respectful gesture.

"Mr. Chen, I apologize for disturbing you."

Chen Fan glanced at the scroll in his hand but didn't rush to take it.

"Get to the point."

Sang Qiniang smiled and took half a step forward.

"That's a good thing. We have more work to do here. We need people for bookkeeping, ship repair, and canal measurement. The number of children in the school is increasing, so we need a way to select people."

Han Jiu nodded in agreement.

"That's right. Not everyone can claim to know how. If the waterline is measured incorrectly, everyone in the canal will suffer."

Chen Fan brushed the dirt off his hands.

"What method do you want?"

Lu Cheng then handed over the bamboo book.

"Establish a list of schools."

Upon hearing these three words, Shi Laoliu, who was moving wood in the yard, slowed down for a moment.

Wukong was sitting on a section of the wall, having just broken off a piece of adobe. Upon hearing this, he narrowed his eyes and crushed the adobe into dust.

Chen Fan took the bamboo book, but before flipping through it, he asked a question.

"Whose idea was this?"

Sang Qiniang said, "It was a decision made by several of us managers. It wasn't to show off. It was to save trouble. We lined up the children to see which one could do math, which one could write smoothly, and which one could draw a boat pattern with a steady hand. It was easy to understand at a glance."

Han Jiu, fearing he might misunderstand, quickly added a sentence.

"It's not about distinguishing between high and low status. It's just about making a list. The first thirty will fill the urgent vacancies first."

Chen Fan then opened the bamboo book.

The first page is written very neatly.

The model of the academy.

The names were listed in rows, with their strengths noted after each name. Some were good at accounting, others at copying records, some at measuring timber, and others at analyzing watercourses. The person who wrote these names had put in effort; they weren't just randomly put together.

But when Chen Fan turned to the third page, his hand stopped.

There wasn't a single child from the nameless island.

He flipped through the pages again. There were some in the appendix, seven or eight scattered around. Most of them had a note next to them that said, "Slow to learn to read," "Heavy accent," "Unclear background," or "Hiring temporarily suspended."

Chen Fan closed the bamboo book.

The movement wasn't forceful, but Sang Qiniang could still detect the slight stiffness in it.

The smile on her face faded a little.

"Mr. Chen, please don't be angry. This is just a sample. The list hasn't been posted yet."

Old Shi had already walked over, his face grim.

"They finished arranging it before it was even posted?"

Lu Cheng was speechless at his retort, and his ears turned red.

"It's not about finishing the schedule, it's about trying it out first. We need to have something in mind before we can discuss anything further."

"Who made the decision?" Shi Laoliu asked.

"It's just the few of us," Han Jiu said honestly, "along with two workshop owners from South Street."

Shi Laoliu sneered.

"Do you own this school?"

Inside the Xuanzang room, the reading was still being led, the voices pressing in from wave to wave. When the word "name" was pronounced, it was the clearest.

"Name, the name of a name."

The courtyard was quiet for a moment.

Sang Qiniang sighed softly.

"Old Shi, don't rush in. We're not after those kids. I'm in charge of the accounts, and I'm most afraid of misjudging people. Among the new recruits we recently hired, there was one who was quick-witted and fast-handed, and could move the abacus beads very well, but he even managed to reverse the debit and credit columns. If I hadn't gone through the books again last night, the whole ledger would have been ruined."

As she spoke, she reached out and pointed to the bamboo book.

"Having a list at least tells you who to contact first."

Lu Cheng then joined in.

"My situation is even more urgent. The new shipyard lacks people who can read wood grain. Last time I sent two kids to record the materials, each of them wrote half a sheet, and they came back with a pair, both completely messed up. It's not that they're bad, it's that they haven't learned properly. If they actually get on the ship, they'll be the ones who break their feet."

Han Jiu rubbed his hands together.

"It's the same with repairing canals. Not just anyone can carry a shovel and measure the slope. You need someone who can read, write, and report the numbers. We don't have that many experienced workers, so we can only pick from the schools."

What those people said was true.

It was precisely because it was a true story that the atmosphere in the courtyard was even more somber.

Chen Fan reopened the bamboo book and pulled out a thin piece of paper tucked inside.

That was the naming page for the top thirty. He had seen the top three people before. One was the nephew of the salt merchant, one was the son of the old warehouse clerk, and one was the nephew of the timber workshop owner.

He writes well and learns accounting quickly.

But this speed was too fast, too perfectly synchronized.

Chen Fan looked up at Lu Cheng.

"Who on this list actually attended the classes?"

Lu Cheng opened his mouth.

"Sang Qiniang went there a few times."

"I'm asking who watched it from beginning to end."

No one answered.

Chen Fan looked at Sang Qiniang again.

Have you ever seen Ah-Zhi write?

Sang Qiniang was stunned for a moment.

"Which Ah-zhi?"

"She sits in the third row, the one missing half a fingernail on her left hand. She's from the Island of Lost Names. She writes slowly, and her abacus beads don't click. Last month, the accountant missed a bushel of salt, and she was the first to notice. Not because she was fast, but because she remembered that the number of knots in the hemp thread on each bag of salt was different."

Sang Qiniang fell silent.

Chen Fan then asked Han Jiu.

"Do you recognize Atu?"

Han Jiu frowned and thought for a moment.

"The skinny, dark-skinned one?"

"Yes. You said he had a heavy accent. But the day before yesterday, when the South Canal collapsed, who was the first to notice the underwater cavity? It was him. While you were on the shore looking at the mud color, he was squatting on the side, listening with his ear pressed to the ground. Because when he was a child, he lived in a floating hut on the island, and he was most afraid of hollow spaces underneath."

Han Jiu paused, his shoe tip leaving a mark in the mud.

Chen Fan looked at Lu Cheng one last time.

"And then there's Xiaoman. You say his background is unclear. Do you know who first noticed that crooked tenon when they were dismantling the old hull of the ship the other day?"

Lu Cheng's throat bobbed.

"It's him?"

"It's him." Chen Fan rolled up the bamboo scroll and tapped it lightly on his palm. "He doesn't know many characters. But he can tell where the wood is difficult to work with and where it's going to crack just by touching it once. With this notice, he won't even have a chance to enter the dock."

The wind blew in through the opening in the wall, stirring up a layer of fine dust.

Wukong jumped down from the wall, his shoes hitting the ground with a thud.

"I knew it, this thing smelled familiar." He snatched the scroll from Chen Fan's hand and casually unfolded it. "In the past, when the emperor appointed officials, he liked to arrange them like this. Once a sign was hung up, the people below would first learn to read the name, and then learn to read the expressions on the faces. After a few years, they would know which family's child would be promoted and which child would only be left standing outside, and they would accept their fate."

When he said the word "accept one's fate," he clicked his tongue as if he had chewed on sand.

Xuanzang had walked out the door at some point, still clutching the ruler in his hand.

The children also crowded to the doorway, craning their necks to look.

The skinny, dark-skinned boy stood at the very edge, still clutching yesterday's wooden plaque in his arms. The character "仓" (cang, meaning warehouse) on it was patched up deeply, and wood shavings still clung to it.

Chen Fan waved to him.

"A-Tu, come here."

The young man hesitated for a moment, but still walked over.

Chen Fan handed him the list of the top thirty.

"How many do you recognize?"

Atu looked very slowly, his lips moving slightly. He got stuck when he got to the seventh one, and his ears slowly turned red.

"...Seven and a half."

"What is half?"

"I've seen this character before. I can't quite place it."

Someone chuckled softly in the courtyard, but quickly suppressed it.

Chen Fan nodded and handed the list to another young girl. It was A-Zhi.

Ah Zhi took it, her eyes scanning it slowly. When she reached the appendix, she pursed her lips.

"Sir, I'm here."

She was referring to the phrase "employment temporarily suspended".

She spoke calmly, but Shi Laoliu's face darkened even more.

Chen Fan asked her, "Would you like to be on the list?"

Azhi didn't answer immediately. She looked down and touched the edge of the paper; her fingertips were covered in calluses.

"I'm willing," she said, "but I want to arrange them according to how well they are taught, not according to who knew them first."

Upon hearing this, Sang Qiniang lost face.

She remained silent for a while, then cupped her hands in a respectful gesture to the young girl.

"I made it too narrow."

Han Jiu also lowered his head.

"I thought it would be safer to start by targeting familiar faces."

Lu Cheng was still standing, his shoulders tense. He was the one who most wanted to get this done, but now he felt like someone had just torn half a plank from a boat right in front of him.

"Then we won't put up a notice?" he asked.

Chen Fan did not answer immediately.

He spread the sample list on an old door panel, picked up a charcoal stick next to it, and crossed out the words "top thirty".

"Rankings are acceptable."

Lu Cheng's eyes lit up.

Chen Fan immediately cut him off with his next sentence.

"You can assign tasks, but you can't assign people."

All three of them were stunned.

Chen Fan wrote a few lines on the door panel.

Literacy book. Arithmetic book. Carpentry book. Hydraulics book. At the back of each book, instead of indicating level, it lists who has already mastered it, who is learning it, who can follow along, and who needs more practice. Updates are made every ten days. Whoever wants to start with a particular book comes to learn it first, and is tested on the spot after completion. If they fail the test, they can come back next time.

He writes slowly, but his characters are steady.

"If the accountant needs someone, look at the arithmetic manual. If the shipyard needs someone, look at the carpentry manual. If the canal is being repaired, look at the hydraulic engineer manual. If someone's child is rejected today, they can get in tomorrow after learning the skills. It's not a one-time offer that guarantees a lifetime of employment."

Sang Qiniang stared at those lines of text, first frowning, then slowly relaxing.

"In that case... there are indeed enough people available when the accountant is selecting staff."

Han Jiu was more direct.

"All I need to know is who can go down into the canal and who can't. I don't care about anything else."

Lu Cheng was still pondering it.

"But someone has to do the preliminary work, right?"

"Don't just have a few of you inspecting people," Chen Fan said. "The accountant will inspect the arithmetic, the lumberyard will inspect the carpentry, the canal workers will inspect the waterworks, and Xuanzang will check their literacy. Every time someone is inspected, a question will be posted at the door. Anyone can see it, anyone can hear it. After the inspection, names will be recorded on the spot."

He paused, then added.

"The children of the Nameless Island are the first to be considered. It's not about providing care, but about filling in the gaps in your sample first."

A-Tu held the wooden plaque, his lips twitching slightly upwards before he quickly suppressed it.

Ah Zhi looked up and asked softly, "Sir, can I still go to the accounting office?"

"Yes," Chen Fan said. "First, write 'borrow' and 'credit' correctly. Go see Seventh Sister this afternoon."

Sang Qiniang nodded.

"Come on. I want to see it for myself."

This time she spoke frankly and didn't beat around the bush.

Wukong folded the old sample and stuffed it back into Lu Cheng's arms.

"Use it to start a fire. Even if the bottom of the pot gets a little black, the rice will still cook."

Lu Cheng smiled wryly, clutching the sample tightly as if reluctant to part with it, or as if he finally knew where to throw it away.

The children were still huddled by the door.

Xuanzang knocked on the door frame.

"Have you seen enough?"

A group of heads immediately shrank back.

The skinny, dark-skinned boy was the slowest. When he reached the door, he turned back to look at the new register on the door panel, as if he wanted to memorize those words.

Outside the courtyard, Han Jiu had already squatted down, practicing writing the three characters "Waterworks Manual" on the muddy ground with a twig. He wrote one crookedly, then erased it and started again. Sang Qiniang stood by the door, counting on her fingers which three questions would be given first in the afternoon. Lu Cheng, still holding the sample, turned around to look at the pile of old, dismantled timber by the wall, and reached out to touch the broken ends.

Chen Fan put the charcoal sticks back on the side of the door and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The newly written "woodworking book" wasn't even completely dry when Atu was already squatting down next to it, tracing the outline a second time with his finger.

Chapter 703 Conduct precedes seating order

Atu was still squatting by the door.

He dared not touch the new characters, but instead traced them stroke by stroke with his finger. When he traced the vertical stroke of the character "册" (cè), three or four people suddenly squeezed in from outside the courtyard gate. The one in the lead was a tall, thin man with an old satchel slung over his shoulder and mud still clinging to his feet; he looked like he had just come from the riverbank.

He looked at the wall first, then at the door, as he entered the room.

"I heard the school is going to be divided into volumes?" he asked.

Sang Qiniang replied, "I'll remember your name first, then I'll see which volume you'll be in."

The man nodded, then hesitated, rubbing his hands together at the opening of his satchel. "So... should we put them on the list?"

The courtyard fell silent for a moment.

Han Jiu was writing on the ground when he heard this, and the tip of the branch stopped. Lu Cheng, holding the wooden sample, also turned his head. Even the children in the house who were slow to learn to read peeked out, looking towards the door.

This statement is not serious.

It seemed as if the air vent in the yard had been pulled.

Chen Fan stood beside the door, still clutching half a charcoal stick in his hand. He glanced at the man, then at the people filling the courtyard. Some had just learned to recognize their own names, others had just mastered the art of holding a saw. If a notice were truly posted, it might attract people today, but could also send half of them back tomorrow.

He twirled the charcoal stick in his palm and asked, "What kind of list do you want to create?"

The man was stunned: "It means whoever learns the fastest will be in the lead. That way, it'll be easier to call on others when doing things in the future."

Another woman nearby chimed in, "That's how it's done outside. There are rankings for those who take exams, and rankings for those who do jobs. Those at the front of the list get work first, and those at the back have to wait it out."

"What are you cooking?" Wukong squatted on the wall and asked her with his head down.

The woman was taken aback by the question, and after a long pause, she finally said, "Just wait until the people at the front have a spot."

Wukong smacked his lips and remained silent.

Chen Fan placed the charcoal sticks back on the door panel and patted away the sawdust: "In the school, let's not talk about your rank yet."

The people in the courtyard looked at each other in bewilderment.

Chen Fan took two steps forward, his shoes kicking up a layer of fine dust. He spoke slowly, listing his questions one by one: "When you come in, I'll ask you two things. First, what are your skills? Second, what do you want to learn?"

"If you can carry grain, write it down in the granary register first. If you can recognize wood grain, go to the carpentry register first. If you can work in water, go to the waterworks register. Even if you can't read a single word, you can still memorize it first. First, memorize the skills you already have, then remember what you want to improve. It's not about first putting a 'number' on your forehead and then finding a place for you to stand."

Upon hearing this, Han Jiu threw down the branch and immediately scrambled to his feet: "What about someone like me? I can count, I can read scales, and I want to learn how to use a sluice gate."

"Just keep a record of both sides," Chen Fan said.

Han Jiu's eyes lit up: "Record both sides?"

"First, register your name in the granary register, then audit classes in the hydraulic engineering register." Chen Fan looked at him. "When you're busy, go to the granary. When you have free time, go to the river with others. If you really get into it, then move your name up the list."

"What do you mean by moving forward?" Lu Cheng asked.

Chen Fan turned to look at him: "It's not about moving you up the list. It's about moving you into the work."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone in the courtyard fell silent.

Lu Cheng held the wooden sample, thought for a moment, and slowly savored its flavor.

Chen Fan casually pulled an old wooden board from behind the door and drew three lines on it with a charcoal stick. The board was uneven, and the charcoal stick made it difficult to run, but he didn't care and continued writing.

"What will it be?"

What do you want to learn?

"What have you done?"

After he finished writing, he stood the wooden board upright and leaned it against the threshold.

"When you register in the future, fill out these three forms first. If anyone can't fill them out, someone else can write them down for them. It's okay if you can't fill them all out; just make sure you can clearly state what you're truly capable of. The school doesn't create a list of top students. We create registers, provide job opportunities, and pair teachers with students."

The tall, thin man stared at the wooden board, his lips moving slightly: "So, who teaches first, and who teaches later?"

"Whoever is in a hurry will be taught first," Chen Fan said. "If the riverbank needs sluice gates repaired, we'll teach them to read the water gauge first. If the warehouse needs people to keep accounts, we'll teach them to keep count first. If the dock needs people to nail wood, we'll bring people who can use a plane first. We're not sending people according to the list, we're sending people according to the work we need right now."

Sang Qiniang understood immediately, tapping her fingers in the air a few times: "Then the questions I give this afternoon can't just be based on one literacy book. They have to be separate."

"Separate them." Chen Fan nodded. "Those who want to enter the warehouse register should first learn the measures of dou, sheng, jin, and liang. Those who want to enter the waterworks register should first learn the measures of sluices, canals, tides, and sand. Those who want to enter the carpentry register should first learn the dimensions and types of timber. Don't cram everyone in the yard onto one piece of paper to compare their lengths."

The woman was still a little worried: "If there's no ranking, how will anyone know if they're doing well in their studies?"

Xuanzang came out of the door, still clutching the ruler in his hand. His voice was hoarse from being so busy today, but he spoke steadily: "Whether you can do it or not, I won't look at the paper on the wall. Let's see if you can finish your work by yourself and if you can bring someone else along."

He tapped the wooden board lightly with the end of the ruler.

"Being able to write your own name is one level. Being able to remember other people's names is another level. Being able to read warehouse receipts is yet another level. Once you reach a certain level, it will be recorded in the register."

"Add a note?" Atu couldn't help but ask.

"Hmm." Chen Fan continued, "It's not about seating arrangements, it's about keeping track of progress. Today you can only recognize 'wood,' in a few days you'll be able to look at mortise and tenon joints, and in a few days you'll be able to make a stool leg just like that. Then we'll add to the book. The book knows who's progressing fast. Who's progressing slowly won't be delayed in continuing to learn."

Atu squatted there, his ears perked up.

What he feared most these past few days was that he was slow at recognizing characters and clumsy with his hands, and that he would be left behind in the blink of an eye. Hearing "it won't delay anything" made his shoulders relax a little.

Wukong jumped down from the wall, landing beside the wooden plank. He tilted his head to look at the three lines of text: "Old Chen, aren't you still trying to determine who's better?"

"We prioritize, but don't prioritize," Chen Fan said.

Wukong scratched his face: "Speak like a human."

Someone in the courtyard burst out laughing.

Chen Fan chuckled, "People can develop skills. Today you might be first, but tomorrow you might not. Today you might be last, but tomorrow you can rise to the top. Once you're on the list, it's like having a nail hammered into your forehead. But a register is different; a register is dynamic. You can add a line today, but you can change a line tomorrow."

This time, even the tall, thin man understood.

He adjusted his satchel over his shoulder, his hesitation lessening considerably: "Then I'll go first. I can row a small boat, I know how to tell the tides, and I want to learn how to repair a boat's hull."

"Name." Si Mo had already moved a low table over, and dipped the tip of his pen in ink.

"Du Ping'an."

"Which side are you from?"

"South Beach".

Si Mo lowered his head to take notes. The pen scratched across the paper.

Zhu Bajie returned from the east just then. He carried a half-finished wooden trough on his shoulder, and his shoes were covered in wet mud. Before he even got close, he saw a group of people gathered by the door and muttered, "What are they all looking at now?"

Han Jiu quickly repeated what he had just said.

After listening, Zhu Bajie slammed the wooden trough down on the ground with a dull thud. He wiped the sweat from his nose and glanced at the plank: "Is that even a question? Irrigation canals, warehouses, ship repairs, and tide reading—these things can't be explained by a single list."

He bent down, picked up a short stick, and drew directly on the muddy ground.

"Look at this. The person who digs the canal must first be able to judge the terrain. Even if he can judge it accurately, he may not be able to calculate the volume of grain in the granary. Even if he can calculate the volume, if he is asked to go into the water to recognize the tide, he will most likely swallow a few mouthfuls. The carpenter who repairs the ship has steady hands and sharp eyes, but he may not be fast at building the granary door. The old fisherman who knows the tide can clearly describe the rise and fall of the tide, but he is slow at counting it with a pen."

He drew four circles and then connected them together with a stick.

"These different jobs can be combined, but they can't be mixed together. Rankings tend to unfairly discriminate. It's like whoever is at the top is better than everyone else in everything. That's ridiculous."

Lu Cheng listened attentively and nodded repeatedly.

He squatted down, holding the wooden model, and casually stood it up next to the circle: "It's the same with woodworking. Someone who can cut a board may not know how to finish it. Someone who can finish it may not know how to straighten it. If you really follow the rankings, the top few are all the same, and the people behind them don't even have the motivation to start."

Sang Qiniang counted on her fingers: "Then we'll have to make a few more booklets."

"Open it," Chen Fan said. "Having more booklets isn't a problem. What's a problem is having only one list, with a bunch of people crowding around it, all staring at the same spot."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and looked at the new words on the door panel again. Waterworks manual, warehouse manual, carpentry manual. The ink was still damp, the edges slightly blurred. A breeze blew in from the courtyard entrance, causing the door panel to sway gently.

Chen Fan raised his hand and added a line of small print below the "Hydraulic Engineering Book".

First, memorize what you already know, then memorize what you want to learn.

The characters are small and not very neatly written.

Han Jiu was the first to crowd around and read it aloud. After reading it, he read it aloud in a low voice. A Tu also read it aloud, but when he got to "what do you want to learn," his tongue got tied, and he had to start over. Du Ping'an stood behind, craning his neck to watch, as if afraid of missing a single word.

Pigsy picked up the wooden trough from the ground again, and before leaving, he turned back and called out, "Those who can watch the tide, come with me to Donggou this afternoon. Don't just stand here looking at the words."

Du Ping'an responded the fastest, almost running to catch up.

Han Jiu glanced at the door panel, then at the direction of Donggou, and finally stamped his foot: "Si Mo, you write this down in the warehouse register first, I'll fill in the waterworks register when I get back!"

After he finished speaking, he chased after her.

The courtyard erupted into chaos again. Some moved tables, some carried stools, and some gathered around the new wooden board, asking how to memorize the questions. Xuanzang slapped the ruler against his palm and began to assign tasks again. Sang Qiniang had already revised the afternoon's questions; she had only prepared one set, but now she simply tore it into three pieces and squatted by the threshold to rewrite them. Lu Cheng dragged the old timber to the corner, picked out a few usable pieces, and prepared to use them as templates for the woodworking book.

Atu remained squatting in the same spot.

He stared at the newly added small characters for a long time before looking up and asking Chen Fan in a low voice, "I can whittle splinters and want to learn mortise and tenon joints. Can I remember them like this?"

Chen Fan looked down at him: "Yes."

A-Tu said "Oh," and quickly repeated the sentence to himself, as if afraid of making a mistake when announcing his name later.

Si Mo had already finished grinding the second inkstone. He looked up and called out, "Next one, come and report."

A-Tu stood up abruptly, almost tripping over the old wooden stake beside him. He quickly righted the stake before running over to the table, then stopped and wiped his palms on his trouser leg.

Chapter 704 True Name Academy

Atu ran to the table, still catching his breath, and blurted out the phrase he had practiced so much.

"I can remove splinters from wood and I want to learn how to read tenons and mortises. I can remember them."

Si Mo picked up her pen, looked up at him, and said, "Write down what you already know first, and what you want to learn later. Can you bring a few small ones to whittle splinters?"

Atu paused for a moment, turned his head to look at the few kids in the yard who always followed him to collect wood chips, stretched out two fingers, and then withdrew one.

"Write one first."

Si Mo nodded and added a stroke to the margin of the booklet.

Chen Fan stood to the side, watching the line of words settle down, and a sense of relief settled in his heart. The past few days had only involved tearing down walls and expanding the building, adding a few names to the register; now they were finally getting to the heart of the matter. With so many people, relying solely on a single schoolhouse and a door panel would inevitably lead to chaos sooner or later. It was crucial to clearly distinguish who knew what, what they could teach, who was only there to learn to read, and who still had to work in the fields, drive vehicles, and watch the granary.

The courtyard was bustling with activity. Half of the old mud wall had collapsed, and Shi Laoliu and his men were re-laying the bricks. Children ran back and forth carrying nameplates, leaving wood shavings at their feet. Wukong squatted on the wall, poking at a crossbeam with his stick, complaining that it was half a foot too short. Xuanzang stood at the door, still holding his ruler, listening to the commotion in the courtyard, remaining silent for a long time.

Chen Fan waved to him.

"Master, one word lesson is not enough."

Xuanzang walked over: "What would you like to add?"

"It's not about adding a new subject, it's about changing the name of this place." Chen Fan knocked twice on the door. "From now on, it won't be called a school."

Upon hearing this, several people nearby paused.

Si Mo scraped the brush nib clean on the edge of the inkstone and asked, "What's that called?"

Chen Fan looked at the row of registers hanging outside the door: Carpentry Register, Hydraulic Engineering Register, Warehousing Register, Vehicle Register. The characters were small, and they were packed together, like a makeshift stall. He shook his head.

"These names are all correct, but the place name is wrong. This place doesn't just teach literacy, nor does it only accept children. People come here to learn a trade, to learn bookkeeping, to learn how to manage vehicles, watch over goods, repair ditches, and find their way. Calling it a school is too narrow."

Wukong leaped down from the wall, dusted off his hands, and said, "Let's give it a catchy name. Let's call it the Number One Courtyard of Flower Fruit Mountain."

Laughter erupted in the courtyard.

Chen Fan ignored his comment and looked at Xuanzang instead: "I want to call it the Academy."

Xuanzang rubbed his fingertip on the ruler, neither immediately saying "good" nor "bad": "The character '宫' is too big."

"The space may be small, but the rules must be established first," Chen Fan said. "We don't set up memorial tablets or empty seats. Whoever comes here, we don't look at their background or age, we only look at what they know and whether they are willing to teach. Learn one skill, and memorize it. If they can take on apprentices, they can memorize another skill. We'll hang a book at the entrance and put a table inside. In the future, if anyone wants to find someone who can identify mortise and tenon joints, they won't need to shout all over the yard; they can find the person by flipping through the book."

Upon hearing this, Si Mo's eyes lit up: "Then everyone needs a register."

"That's right." Chen Fan nodded. "There's no ranking, no distinction between superior, middle, and inferior. There's only a register. Everyone gets one, to record what they've learned, what they're learning, and how many apprentices they can mentor. Knowing more doesn't make you superior. Being willing to teach others is what truly matters."

A-Tu stood by the table, having only come to register, but upon hearing that he would also receive a booklet, his ears turned red. He cautiously asked, "Will my name be written in too?"

"Write your real name," Chen Fan said.

After those two words were spoken, the courtyard fell silent for a moment.

Some people who have been here for a long time only use their birth order, nicknames, or the names that are more convenient for outsiders to use. Their real names are kept deep in their hearts and rarely brought up. Han Jiu, squatting by the wall, even stopped holding the twig in his hand. Sang Qiniang, who was doing math problems, looked up and glanced this way.

Xuanzang repeated softly, "Write your real name."

"Hmm," Chen Fan said, "A false name is good for avoiding trouble, while a real name is good for registration. Who knows what, who taught whom, can't be faked. If someone can whittle splinters today, recognize tenons tomorrow, and train an apprentice the day after, all of that should be recorded under their real name. The register isn't just for show; it's for assigning tasks, duties, rations, and responsibilities later."

Si Mo had already turned around to flip through the blank pages, saying as he did so, "That has to be done by person, not by book. Before, one line was written in each book, but from now on, one book per person."

"Exactly," Chen Fan said. "The profession is written on the back of the book, and the real name is written at the top."

Xuanzang stood by the threshold, thought for a while, then raised his hand and placed the ruler on the table.

"I'll lead the character lessons and oral instruction," he said. "Those who learn characters too slowly can listen first. Once they're familiar with the characters, they can read them aloud from the wooden signs. The elderly, women, and even drivers can all come. One quarter of an hour of character lessons in the morning and one quarter of an hour of oral instruction in the evening. Come for as many days as you can, no need for a whole month."

Chen Fan glanced at him. Xuanzang's words were quite insightful. Not everyone can sit for half a day, much less can everyone pick up a pen. He needed to lower the bar first so that the academy could have a foothold.

Si Mo continued, "I'll take care of the accounting. I won't teach the main accounts yet. I'll teach you how to recognize numbers, record goods, how to reconcile invoices, and how to record work. Even if you only know a dozen or so characters, you can still learn. You'll need them in the warehouse, on the carts, and by the well."

"I'll teach you navigation." The white horse appeared outside the door at some point, a few blades of grass still clinging to its mane, clearly having just returned from the other side of the river. He stepped over the threshold, his voice low but authoritative, "I'm not teaching you to fly, I'm teaching you to navigate the waterways. How to recognize the current, the shallows, the anchorages, how to read the sky and furl the sails, how to remember the wind and water conditions. From now on, when you're on the river, you're not allowed to recklessly venture out."

Wukong tilted his head and looked at him: "You, a horse, are teaching someone to sail a boat. That's quite novel."

The white dragon horse didn't even look at him: "It's still more reliable than you probing the water with a stick."

Another burst of laughter erupted in the courtyard.

Zhu Ganglie was carrying a newly made plow back from outside when he heard that his name wasn't on the list, so he immediately put the plow down on the ground.

"Don't forget me. I'll take care of the groundwork. I'll show you how to set up the plow, how to dig the ditches, how to block water on the slopes, how to build the well embankment, which plot of land to plant beans on, and which plot to let dry for three days first. Don't complain about the dirt when you come to learn; roll up your trousers first."

The Bull Demon King then entered the courtyard. He was a head taller than the others, making even the doorframe seem short. After listening to the first few sentences, he placed the bag of wild dates he was carrying on the table.

"I've taken on the tasks of transporting mountain goods and escorting supplies," he said. "I'll teach you what kind of goods can be collected in the mountains, what kind will rot if crushed, when to travel at night, and when it's better to carry them for a whole day than to cross the ridge. I'll add one more thing: escorting supplies isn't just about fighting. It's about recognizing people, roads, ambushes, and fake calls for help. Once the vehicle leaves the house, your mind has to be faster than your hands."

As soon as these doors were set up, all the adults in the courtyard gathered around. They had originally thought this was a place for children to learn to read, but now they realized that they could also enter.

Sang Qiniang spoke first: "Could that woman report the accounts? I'm quick with my hands and my abacus is fast too."

Si Mo looked at her: "Yes. Give me your real name."

Han Jiu stood up from the wall, dusted off his trousers, and said, "I want to learn about waterways, and I also want to catch up on my calligraphy. Can I memorize both books?"

"Yes," Chen Fan said. "Write down whichever subject you want to learn first."

A-Tu hadn't left yet, clutching his page in the booklet tightly, as if afraid someone would take it. He asked softly, "If I really train someone who can whittle splinters, will they be registered under my name?"

"Write it down," Chen Fan said. "Make a note next to it when you teach someone. Make a note when the apprentice runs away halfway through the lesson. It's not for show, but to let the next person know whether you're a reliable mentor."

Even Old Man Shi joined in. He scratched his head, muttering, "So, at my age, I need a copy too?"

"We need more," Chen Fan chuckled. "You know how to tell if a wall is solid, how to feel if the adobe bricks are properly formed—these young people don't. If you don't write it down, if you don't bring a couple of people with you, who will fill in for you when you get sick?"

After listening, Shi Laoliu remained silent for a long time before finally wiping his hand on his lapel and saying, "Then write slower for me. I need to read it carefully."

The old door panel by the entrance was quickly wiped clean. Si Mo ground the ink again, picked up the brush, and wrote down four characters.

True Name Academy.

The "real name" comes first, and the academy comes later.

Xuanzang looked at the four characters and raised his hand to straighten a corner of the door. Wukong thought the characters were too square and reached out to point at them, but Si Mo knocked him away with a stroke of his pen. The white dragon horse stood to the side, watching the people in the courtyard who had gathered around to give their names, and unusually, it didn't urge them on.

One by one, names were called out, some slowly, some quickly. Some started by announcing their birth order, then changed their minds halfway through. Others bowed their heads, reciting their real names, which they hadn't used in years, as if their tongues had grown rusty. Si Mo memorized each character stroke by stroke. Xuan Zang listened from the side, and when he encountered a character he didn't recognize, he would have someone explain its origin before writing it in a different way.

The sun had moved to the west, and the new wall in the courtyard was only halfway up.

The whereabouts of more than a dozen business books were already written on the door panel.

A-Tu stood by the wall, clutching his booklet, turning it over and over to examine the words. The paper wasn't completely dry, so he didn't dare touch the ink, only gesturing with his fingertip in the air.

After a while, he stuffed the booklet into his pocket, turned around and ran to the pile of wood, shouting to the two younger children behind him, "Come here, I'll teach you how to whittle splinters. Don't press randomly with your hands, first see which way the blade is pointing."

Chapter 705 No Distinguished Family Position

The port has been even noisier these past few days than before.

A new netting rack has been erected on the east embankment. Half of the old warehouse on the west side has been cleared out and the words "Navigation Class" have been hung up. Those in the harbor who know how to row, measure ropes, and identify reefs have all been heading over there these past few days. Even the children who usually just collect shells on the beach are standing outside listening.

The white dragon horse has been frequently seen at the port lately.

He no longer wore the golden reins, only a short jacket with the trousers rolled up to his knees, and stood by the tide, watching the markers. Si Mo followed behind, carrying the booklet, and divided the registered people into three lines according to the method agreed upon yesterday.

One group consists of experienced workers on the ship.

One row consisted of boys pushed by various families.

There is another column that says "candidate".

The list of candidates is the thinnest, and it has the fewest names.

Just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM), people were already blocking the doorway.

When Chen Fan came down from the embankment, he first saw a skinny boy squatting by the doorway, holding half a broken clam shell in his hand, drawing tide lines on the ground. He drew the lines and then erased them, then patched them up again, and next to him was a clump of wet netting, with fine stitches and tight knots.

The boy was young, maybe eleven or twelve at most. His straw sandals were all soaked and his ankles were covered in salt stains.

Someone inside the door said, "Next."

Si Mo looked up and saw that he was still at the door, so he asked, "Which register are you registering for?"

The boy stood up and said in a low voice, "I'll sign up for the flight course."

Si Mo flipped through the pages in his hand: "Where are the recommended books?"

"no."

"What about the ship's registration?"

"No, not at all."

A steward sitting by the door put down his teacup, glanced at him, then at his tangled old hairnet: "Whose is this?"

"No, not at all. My mother and I live at Beichakou."

The steward waved his hand and said, "No family registration, no recommendation letter, step aside. The aviation course is not a place for idle chatter."

The boy didn't move, but simply hugged the net tighter: "I can watch the tide."

Another person chuckled: "There are plenty of people who know how to read the tides. It rises today, falls tomorrow; anyone can say that."

"I can also mend nets and recognize underground drains."

"Knowing it won't help. The rules are in the register. We'll start with those who own boats. If you want to learn, you can apply later."

As he spoke, he tucked the list at his feet further in, afraid of getting mud on it.

The boys behind them were dressed more neatly, and two of them even brought their elders. Seeing the blockage at the entrance, they started urging them on. Some said to let those with spots in first, while others said it would be too late to see the water at sea.

The boy listened without replying, but simply lowered his head and smoothed out the few damp lines on the ground with his foot.

Chen Fan stood aside without speaking first.

He recognized this kind of situation. Once the rules are posted on the door, the first people blocked are always those whose names are not yet known.

The white dragon horse was walking from the other end of the pier, carrying a bamboo ruler used for measuring stakes. Upon approaching, he glanced at the entrance and asked Si Mo, "Why is it blocked?"

Si Mo handed over the register: "Recruit according to the quota agreed upon yesterday. Twenty people for the flight course first. Those who are extra will be placed on the waiting list."

The white dragon horse turned to that page, its gaze falling on the blank space: "Why didn't he remember?"

The steward by the door rose and bowed, saying, "Sir, this child has no recommendation letter, no family boat, and no guarantor. We are afraid that taking him in would disrupt the order."

The white dragon horse asked the boy, "What's your name?"

"Ah Chao".

Who taught you to watch the tides?

"My father took care of me for two years when he was alive. After he passed away, I picked up fish at the river mouth, mended nets for others, and looked after myself."

The white dragon horse glanced at the clump of net at his feet, bent down, picked it up, and turned it over. The tear wasn't big, the patching was done smoothly, and the stitches were neatly finished; it didn't look like it had been hastily sewn together.

He put the net back: "Which stretch of water will you be looking at?"

Ah Chao raised his hand and pointed outwards: "The front entrance of Huichao Port. And that bend in the water along the outer edge of Dongsha."

"Where did the tide go this morning?"

"The surface is flat, but the bottom is pulling hard. It can still emerge before noon, but after midday, with the southerly wind blowing, the western trough will turn white."

The steward by the door frowned as he listened: "They can say anything."

The white dragon horse didn't respond to that, but instead looked up at the sea.

The sun was high in the sky, and the water shimmered. Three small flat-bottomed boats were moored at wooden stakes in the harbor, and on the outermost boat were colorful wooden pieces used today to help schoolchildren navigate.

The white dragon horse handed the bamboo ruler to Si Mo: "Sail a boat."

The manager hurriedly said, "Sir, the class hasn't started yet, and the list hasn't been finalized—"

"Perfect," said the white dragon horse. "Let's not talk about names today. Let's go to the water first."

As soon as he said that, things quieted down a bit, both inside and outside the door.

The boys who had been standing at the front exchanged glances. Some clearly didn't want to be in the sun, while others got excited and craned their necks to look outside.

Chen Fan casually kicked aside a cable on the side of the pier to make way for the boat.

The small flat-bottomed boat untied its moorings and swayed as it approached. The white dragon horse went first, standing firmly, then called out to the four people already registered at the entrance, before pointing to Ah Chao: "You go too."

The steward's expression changed: "He's not on the roster."

The white dragon horse turned around: "We're on the ship now."

Ah Chao, holding the net, first placed it at the bow of the boat before carefully stepping onto it. As soon as his foot touched the board, he tested his balance, then squatted down beside the boat to observe the water's color, his movements practiced and familiar.

Si Mo also boarded the ship, holding a booklet, ready to take notes.

The white dragon horse instructed the boatman to move the boat half a mile further out. After leaving the shore, the sounds of people in the harbor dispersed, leaving only the sound of oars and the lapping of the side of the boat.

The white dragon horse pointed ahead: "Tell me, where are the undercurrents?"

Ah Chao squinted, first looking at the water surface, then at the direction of the driftwood on both sides, and pointed to three places in a row.

"Over there, behind the old pile."

"A little to the east, in one place, under the white foam."

"Also, at the stern and rear, even if the water doesn't capsize, the wooden planks will drift sideways."

The four boys on the boat looked in the direction he pointed, but at first they couldn't see anything. The white dragon horse took out three colorful wooden pieces from the wooden box on the boat and threw them down one by one in the direction he indicated.

As expected, the first one turned half a foot after passing the sinking pile.

The second one landed next to the white bubble, and didn't move for a couple of breaths before suddenly spinning around.

The third one is the most eye-catching. Even though the water surface is flat, the wooden piece slides outward at an angle, not in line with the mainstream.

The old boatman, who was punting the boat, exclaimed "Eh!" and glanced at the stern a few more times: "I didn't even notice this spot this morning."

White Dragon Horse then asked Ah Chao, "Of these three places, which one caused the most damage to the ship?"

Ah Chao didn't think for long: "The second spot. It looks shallow, but it's wavy at the bottom. If a small boat gets close to it, the oars will sway. Novices are most likely to panic."

The white dragon horse nodded and turned to look at Si Mo: "Who was ranked first on yesterday's list?"

Si Mo hurriedly turned the page: "Replying to you, sir, it's recorded as Zhou's second son. The comment reads 'familiar with the Qiangang waterway.'"

"Let him speak."

The boy standing at the front immediately tensed up, looking at those places for a long time. He first pointed to the sinking stake, then hesitated before pointing to the white foam, but didn't dare to speak at the third place.

The white dragon horse didn't make things difficult for him, only letting Si Mo record the actual test results.

When the boat docked at the pier, a crowd had already gathered on the shore.

The stewards, who had been standing at the entrance, had all moved to the water's edge. Some wanted to ask about the results first, but the white dragon horse didn't stop. It went ashore, took the booklet from Si Mo, and opened it in front of everyone.

"The flight course ranking list will have one page discarded this morning."

The manager hurriedly said, "Sir, yesterday's arrangement was based on the old practice. This is how we've always recruited people in the port. We recruit those with ship registration first, and those recommended by elders, and then we take turns recruiting from individual households. If we mess things up from the start, it will be difficult to manage them later."

The white dragon horse closed the booklet: "If the old rules allow us to select those who can swim, that's fine too. You all saw the test on the boat just now. The top name on the list was missing one spot, while this kid outside the door was missing three. The old rules aren't that they're hard to manage, but they're too good at judging by social status, not by swimming ability."

These words were spoken softly, but those on the shore heard them clearly.

A man who had brought his child to register earlier was a little embarrassed and wanted to say something on his behalf, but seeing that several pieces of colorful wood were still swirling in the water on the boat, he ultimately didn't speak.

Chen Fan then took a step forward and stood under the drying net frame: "We set the number of places yesterday because we were afraid of taking too many and not being able to teach them all. The places are not for a few families to hoard. Whoever can learn, goes first. If they can't learn, they'll be moved up.

Upon hearing this, Si Mo immediately lowered his head and added a line of small characters to the side of the booklet.

The manager still wanted to keep the door open: "There are many children of small-time investors. If they all report, wouldn't it cause chaos?"

Chen Fan looked at him: "Then let's add a trial run. Don't look at the recommendation letter at the door, first see how many skills you have. Mending nets, understanding currents, recognizing winds, memorizing reefs, whoever is good at which, memorize that first. Navigation course doesn't accept surnames."

Bai Longma reopened the booklet, turned to a blank page, and handed it to Si Mo: "Open a new page and title it 'List of Ports Testing the Tide.' From today onwards, all those reporting navigation tasks must first board the ship to assess the tide. Once it passes, they can be added to the main register."

Si Mo responded and picked up his pen to write.

Ah Chao was still standing by the boat, clutching the old net in his arms, as if he hadn't understood that things had fallen on his shoulders. The white dragon horse beckoned to him: "Come here."

Ah Chao quickly ran over.

"Starting today, you'll be on the boat," said the white dragon horse. "You'll study the tides in the morning and mend the nets in the afternoon. If you're lazy, you'll still have to row out."

Ah Chao opened his mouth, nodded first, then seemed to remember something, glanced back at the managers at the door, and asked in a low voice, "So... I'm considered to have a spot?"

The white dragon horse picked up his net and stuffed it back into his arms: "You earned it yourself."

Si Mo paused, then looked up and asked, "Should I write the name 'A-Chao'?"

Ah Chao was taken aback for a moment, then quickly said, "My full name is Xu Xiaochao. Chao is the same as in tide."

Si Mo continued writing, and before the ink was dry, two children standing behind him squeezed up. One said he knew how to make buoys, and the other said his family often caught clams on the West Beach and could recognize the water.

The old list that was originally arranged at the door was lifted by a corner by the sea breeze and slammed onto the door with a loud thud.

Chen Fan raised his hand to press it down, then turned to Si Mo and said, "Don't remove this one, put it next to it. Let everyone who comes later see how the old list was wrong."

Si Mo nodded and pressed the old and new pages side by side onto the board.

Ah Chao stood below, first looking at the old list, then at his own name on the new page. After looking at it twice, he draped the net over his shoulder, turned around and headed towards the boat, rolling up his trouser legs as he went.

Chapter 706 Fake Ranking Leaked

The next morning, a commotion broke out at the entrance of the academy.

Before Si Mo could even set the pen case down properly, seven or eight people had already crowded outside the door. At the front was a short, stout man with bulging sleeves. He squeezed to the table and slapped down a piece of yellow paper.

"My nephew was late yesterday," he said in a low voice. "Do you recognize this piece of paper? If you do, move the name three places forward."

Si Mo looked up at him but didn't touch the paper.

The yellow paper was cut narrowly, with red ink applied to the edges, and three lines of text written in the middle. The first line read "Recommendation List," and below it, "Priority Entry, First Come, First Served." At the end was a crooked stamp, the ink purplish, as if it had been haphazardly pressed on with leftover ink.

Then someone else poked their head out and asked, "Can this one be placed at the beginning of the woodworking book? I'll add two strings of cash for it."

The courtyard was quiet.

A-Tu was carrying wooden planks inside when he heard the words "woodworking book" and stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at the few sheets of paper, his face still damp with sweat, and his lips pursed.

Si Mo put down his pen and slowly asked, "Who sold it to you?"

Seeing that he didn't get angry, the short, stout man grew bolder: "At the west end of the market, in the alley where they sell fish baskets. They say it's a new rule for the academy. Places are limited; you have to pay a recommendation fee first, and once you get the paper, you'll be on the front of the list. If I hadn't gotten up early, I wouldn't have been able to get one."

After he finished speaking, he pushed the paper forward a little more.

"Don't worry, I know the rules. I'm not asking you to change for nothing."

With a flick of his sleeve, half a corner of silver coin was revealed.

Si Mo's face darkened.

Before he could speak, Xuanzang came out of the door, tapped the corner of the table with a ruler, and made a crisp snap.

"Take it back."

The short, stout man was taken aback: "Master, this is a proper memorial paper."

Xuanzang looked at him: "Where's the seriousness?"

"There's a mark on it."

"Even if a pig's trotter is stepped in mud, it will leave a mark."

Someone behind him couldn't help but burst out laughing. The short, stout man's face flushed red, but he still kept his hand on the paper, refusing to put it away.

Chen Fan came over from the wall and picked up the paper. The paper was thin, the pulp was coarse, and the edges were rough; it was obviously a hastily made product from a street vendor. He turned it over, and there were faint traces of old writing on the back, as if it had been peeled off from a discarded ledger page and re-pasted.

"It was just released last night," Chen Fan said.

Si Mo replied, "How did you know?"

"If the starch isn't fully absorbed, it will curl up when exposed to the sun."

Chen Fan shook the paper and asked the group of people outside the door, "Who else bought some?"

This question immediately caused chaos at the entrance.

A woman took out a sheet from her bosom and carefully unfolded it. A thin old man was even faster, afraid that if he was a step slower, it would be wasted. In the blink of an eye, six sheets were spread out on the table, all of similar style, but with varying shades of ink, some with smooth surfaces and others with fuzzy textures.

Ah Chao was carrying water into the yard when he saw this scene. Before he could even put the buckets down properly, he exclaimed, "This can be sold for money?"

"Yes," Chen Fan said, laying out the papers. "As long as someone believes in it, it can be sold."

The short, stout man grew anxious: "That's not how it works. We're just trying to find a way for our child. Your academy admits students every day, and the notices posted at the gate are getting longer and longer. Who knows when the waiting list will end? That man at the market made it clear that the old notices will eventually have to be checked for recommendations."

A-Tu slammed the wooden stick down on the ground: "Nonsense. I saw Mr. Si registering names according to trade yesterday."

"What do you know?" the man retorted. "You got in because you were lucky. There are so many people outside who can't even get through the door."

Upon hearing this, the faces of the people behind him flushed slightly.

They weren't there to cause trouble. If you really want to know what they're thinking, they're mostly just afraid. Afraid of arriving too late, afraid of their names being buried at the bottom, afraid of going back to the old days of being on the list. Every family feels the pinch when they have to spend a few strings of cash, but when they hear they can move up a place, they're all willing to part with it.

Chen Fan looked at the recommendation notices, but instead of cursing, he asked, "What else did the paper seller say?"

The woman replied softly, "They say the academy seems fair now, but as more people come, it will still be based on rank. You have to buy paper first to reserve a spot. Once the new list is posted, this paper will be valuable. You can even pass it on to someone else."

This time, even Wukong jumped down from the wall.

He was originally using a stick to pry open bricks, but when he heard the word "valuable," he raised an eyebrow and smiled: "Well, the list hasn't even been set up yet, and we're already selling it as a commodity."

Chen Fan pressed the paper back onto the table, and a spark of anger ignited within him.

This tactic isn't new. First, create a barrier, then sell tickets. The words on the paper aren't important; what matters is stirring up people's minds. Once everyone believes "rankings can be bought," the sign at the academy's gate will lose its meaning. Names will no longer be just names; they'll become prices that can be raised or lowered at will.

Si Mo raised his hand and gathered all six sheets of paper to one side: "From today onwards, the academy will only accept the door panels and names recorded in person. Any other papers will not be accepted. Anyone who brings a recommendation paper to amend the register will be sent back and rearranged."

Someone outside immediately exclaimed anxiously, "Then all my money was wasted?"

Chen Fan nodded: "Yes, it was a waste of money. You should go back to them before the paper seller gets too far."

The short, stout man choked, grabbed the paper, and rushed out. Two of the others followed suit, while the rest hesitated. The woman clutched the edge of the paper, asking earnestly, "Are you sure you won't need this, and you'll still get a turn?"

Xuanzang pointed to the door panel: "Which volume you reported to yesterday, you're still in today's volume. Not a single extra piece of paper, not a single extra penny. When it's your turn, you'll be called naturally."

The woman stared at the two pages of the old and new lists side by side for a long time before finally crumpling the paper into a ball and stuffing it back into her sleeve.

Classes will proceed as scheduled in the morning.

The wind outside didn't stop so quickly.

Before noon, three people with recommendation slips had come to ask for their names to be changed in the ranking. One said he wanted to help his son get a better ranking, another said he bought the slips for a neighbor, and the third was even more outrageous, wanting to sell the slips for half price and change the ranking in another list. The more Si Mo wrote, the darker his face became. In the end, he simply posted another notice by the door: Recommendation slips are useless. Anyone who brings a slip to cause trouble in the ranking will be placed one day later.

The paper had just been pasted up when Six Ears returned.

He didn't go through the main gate, but squatted on the low wall behind the courtyard, twirling half a bamboo stick in his hand. Only after Chen Fan passed by did he jump down and throw a bundle of crumpled paper onto the stone table.

"Found it."

When Chen Fan opened them, he found they were all unfinished products. Some only had red borders printed on them, while others had only half of the words "Recommendation List" written on them, and the back of the paper had the stitching holes from old book pages.

"Where did it come from?"

"The old sequel will be released." Six Ears curled his lip. "They're not completely dead; a few tails are still left."

Chen Fan's eyes darkened.

He was familiar with the name "Continuation Page Society." Years ago, they made their fortune by copying books, selling continuation pages, and changing names and order for people. Their specialty was inflating the price of a single sheet of paper to the tune of gold. Anyone without connections, anyone wanting to cross the threshold, had to buy a page of their "continuation page." Later, after several crackdowns, they were completely wiped out, and their shop was destroyed. Who would have thought they'd reappear with a sign next to the academy?

Liu Er tapped the table with a bamboo stick: "They don't dare to come at us head-on. So they pick corners in the market and sell small papers first. They shout 'first come, first served,' but deep down it's the same old trick. The academy has a real roster, right? They just want to create another fake barrier. They make you go through all that trouble, while they're just lining their own pockets."

"Who else is behind us?" Chen Fan asked.

"Two old accountants, and a skinny errand boy. You've seen the skinny guy before; he used to collect calling cards for the Sequel to the Paper Company at the docks. Now he's changed into a gray coat and set up his stall again." Liu Er sneered as he said this, "What's worse is selling paper."

"What is that?"

"They announced that in a few days, they would release a 'List of Top Trades.' Carpentry, plumbing, ship repair, and medicine identification would each be divided into A, B, C, and D categories. Whoever got an A category would go straight to the training hall. Whoever got a D category would have to wait outside. A category papers were scarce, expensive, and could be resold."

Old Shi Liu happened to be passing by and overheard this, then exclaimed in surprise, "Isn't this just an old family business in a new shell?"

"It's this shell," Chen Fan said.

He picked up the half-finished products, rubbing the edges of the paper with his fingertips. Rough, thin, and with a musty smell from the warehouse. But these kinds of things are most likely to seep into people's hearts. Especially when the line at the door gets longer and longer, as long as some people panic, there will be people willing to buy them.

The sound of children reciting words drifted from outside the courtyard. A-Tu was teaching two younger children to recognize the characters "tenon" and "groove," reciting them slowly but loudly. The sound carried on the wind, slightly darkening the expressions of the people around the table.

Chen Fan rolled up the paper and looked up at Si Mo: "Write down all the rules for the order of each volume tonight. Why it's arranged, how it's rotated, who's missing, where to put them, and nail them to the door panel one by one."

Si Mo nodded: "I'll write it."

"Add one more rule." Xuanzang tucked the ruler back into his waistband. "When the academy accepts students, it will not be based on recommendation papers, money, or the order of their residency. It will only ask which class you are registered in, what skills you have, and whether you are willing to learn."

"This sentence should be written at the very top," Chen Fan said.

Six-Eared grinned: "I'll go keep an eye on the market?"

"Go." Chen Fan tossed the bundle of fake papers back into his arms. "Don't rush to overturn the stall. First, find out who else is taking over and who's spreading rumors. Since they're selling the notices like commodities, let's follow the trail."

Liu Er caught the paper, stuffed it into his clothes, and turned to climb back up the wall. The top of the wall was bleached white by the sun. He squatted down for a moment, then turned back and added, "Those paper sellers will probably be moving to another place tonight."

Wukong, carrying his staff, had already taken two steps towards the door when he heard this. He turned around and laughed, "We still need to eat, no matter where we go. The market is only so big."

Chen Fan didn't stop him, but waved to Ah Chao: "Go to the dock this afternoon and listen to who's talking about paper. If you hear it, don't make a sound, and come back and report to me."

Ah Chao put down the bucket and wiped the tip of his nose: "Okay."

The new notice by the door trembled in the sea breeze. Si Mo carried the ink bowl over and pressed the four corners down firmly again. After pressing them down, he took two steps back, looked at the line of text above, and then added eight larger ones—

"The list is in people's hands, not on paper."

After writing this sentence, he still felt it wasn't eye-catching enough, so he simply pressed a black mark next to the words with his palm. The ink wasn't dry, and the palm lines were left on it, making it very rough.

Just then, a man who had bought the recommendation paper returned. He stood by the door for a long time, then finally took out the yellow paper from his sleeve, tore it in half, and threw it into the mud.