At thirty, Shen Yan was an instructor at the county school. After offending the gentry, he was dismissed and ended up homeless in a temple to the City God in Lin’an. The streets of the Southern Song were bustling, yet nine out of ten people at the bottom of society could not read. He survived by scavenging coal cinders. Then, seeing a beggar boy named Ajiu freeze to death in the street, he was struck by an idea and opened a free school in the derelict temple.
He took in the sons of boatmen, orphaned children of craftsmen, and daughters of fishing families, starting from nothing as he taught them poetry, mathematics, and military strategy. When the gentry wrecked the school or officials came to search it, he outwitted them. When his students were threatened and the temple was about to be destroyed, he led them through the rain to protect their books.
After three years of quiet work, the spark began to spread like wildfire. His students entered the Imperial Academy, joined military affairs, and took charge of accounts. Their rise from humble beginnings shook the imperial court. No golden finger, only a conviction burning bright: the written word can carry the Way, and the people can be the masters of their own fate.
