Chapter 180: The Difference Between Reading and Rote Memorization

"Today we continue our lecture……"

In one class, from the moment Jiang Yunchu spoke, she brought everyone's thoughts into her story.

Outside, two old men and an old lady secretly listened at the base of the wall.

Yesterday Ningguang discovered this, then made up her mind to come today and listen to Yun chu's lesson; logically, her class should be even more boring.

When she crept over, the two old men spotted her and insisted on following along.

With their three‑legged‑cat skills, and considering Yun chu's progress in martial arts……

All right, stop hiding—when they got close, Yun chu noticed them.

But their sneaking wasn't because of Yun chu; they feared disturbing the children and delaying Yun chu's teaching.

Just then this scene appeared: inside the room, teachers and students rejoiced together, and everyone's thoughts followed the instructor's lead.

Outside, the three people by the wall—only Ningguang took notes; she had never heard Yun chu's class before, yet this single lesson made her notice a difference.

Yun chu's lectures are witty and humorous, unrestricted; in the textbooks she expounds, she expands knowledge far beyond tactics, local customs, ancestors' deeds, and future prospects.

Even when she reaches a certain point, she has the students switch perspectives: if they were in that position at that time, what different thoughts would they have?

Ningguang's pen never stopped.

Meanwhile Kang Mengxian and Qing feng now regretted not bringing a pen.

Looking at Ningguang's recorded pages, one here, one there, they helped her turn pages and grind ink, making sure nothing was missed, lest they later fail to see it all.

"Today's class ends here. This morning we've had two periods, and you won't let me rest in between—I'm sore all over. Someone come over and rub my shoulders." Jiang Yunchu looked at the children below and tilted her head.

Kang Zhi Chun sprang to her feet: "I'll do it."

She walked behind Jiang Yunchu, then with her little fists she gradually applied pressure, gazing at the Dean's jade‑white neck, she smiled helplessly.

Sometimes the Dean is more like an older sister—stern yet with a hint of playfulness.

She would take them on tours of various places, yet also bring them back in an instant.

"Hmm, your technique is not bad; I see your foundation is extraordinary—I have a martial arts manual to bestow upon you."

Jiang Yunchu took a small booklet and handed it to Kang Zhi Chun.

Kang Zhi Chun's eyes lit up—she hadn't expected……

And there's this treatment too?

Jiang Yunchu smiled, rose from her chair, tucked the book under her arm, lifted her tea tray, and left.

Whenever the class didn't require standing, she always carried her own tea tray.

"Yun chu, this story."

Jiang Yunchu hadn't yet reached Ningguang Yuan when three people intercepted her midway; they had listened to one lesson, but they experienced what it means for language to be immersive.

In this class they appreciated the spirit of a land.

"This story is real; locally there is a ballad that especially praises this person."

After Jiang Yunchu finished, she cleared her throat; her clear, cold voice suddenly turned into a soft Wu dialect, that gentle melody, from a wife's perspective, speaking of her husband's departure, his helpless march to the battlefield, her longing for his return.

The second shift came abruptly: her longing turned into utter grief—her husband died on the battlefield, having annihilated the enemy forces, yet his body was severed; her bewilderment and helplessness drove her to don armor, seize weapons, disguise herself as a man, and enter the barracks.

The third shift brimmed with killing intent, to avenge her husband: war drums beat, horns blared, the red‑clad general's black hair fell.

Her voice, like the story, ceaselessly narrated this woman's life.

She……

The three stared at Jiang Yunchu, listening to that very tone, filled with astonishment.

This voice, this tune—how could she manage it?

Three different stages, three different songs, three different psychological shifts.

Like song, like weeping.

"This is that story; because of her, this place has no preference for sons over daughters—that's the local custom, a unique trait of the region."

Jiang Yunchu's singing faded, then she spoke softly.

The three suddenly realized that Yun chu had said before: reading, dead reading, obsessive reading.

The difference from her teaching.

What she wants is the children's understanding, for them to learn something that can influence them, not merely study for the imperial examinations.

Qing feng opened his mouth several times, but each time closed it.

Jiang Yunchu left; her Wu‑soft speech was heard not only by the three gentlemen but also by the dispersing schoolchildren, who stood far away, their hearts shocked.

As it turned out, the story they knew actually had such a legendary ballad.

These stories are not false; they were not fabricated by the Dean to let them grasp things quickly—they are real.

This realization changed their mindset as well.

"We……" Kang Mengxian opened his mouth, but only managed two words.

Qing feng chuckled: "We're old."

He couldn't help but admit he was old—old to the point of stubbornness, old to the point of rejecting new methods.

Thinking of Yun chu's class, thinking of his own.

If he were allowed to choose, he would without hesitation want to listen to Yun chu's class.

She merely, from a protagonist's viewpoint, introduced this city, introduced the local customs, and let the children feel as if they were truly there.

Was the lesson given? Yes.

Was it correct? Yes.

He had been to that place; he knew its customs, but he didn't grasp them as deeply as Yun chu did, nor did he investigate the reasons.

Only today did he learn the reason.

That class—if he were to lecture it himself, how would he lecture it?

Talking about its prosperity, talking about its history, talking about its culture, but…

In other words, simply speaking, making children rote‑memorize—is that just dead‑studying?

"Six months, we can wait." Ningguang looked at what she had recorded in her hand, then said softly.

Six months!

The date of the Joint Examination.

They can all wait, the children are still young, everything, no rush.

Three days later, the Palace sent someone to fetch her; Attendant Xi had long been waiting at the Gate, and now he could see that this Regent's Consort was no consort at all—Your Majesty was just pampering his own princess.

Not even that—princesses don't get this treatment.

"Subject wife greets Your Majesty, long live Your Majesty, long long live." Jiang Yunchu hadn't even knelt yet, but she spoke quickly.

Emperor Ning looked at Jiang Yunchu's slippery act, still said, "No need."

Jiang Yunchu smiled and lifted her head; now the Study had no one else—even the attendants in the room had been cleared out, only Attendant Xi waiting aside, fearful that Your Majesty might have orders.

"How come you suddenly decided to come to the Palace? Didn't you say you didn't like the palace?"

Last time, coming to the Palace, I had to leave my own flame.

This time entering the Palace, who knows what scheme that girl has in mind.