Although Dean Wu hadn't used those particular terms, Lin Ke automatically heard them as that new vocabulary.
Strapping hunks, delicate scholars, sweet little boys...
Oh my god!
I want disciples who work eight in the morning to ten at night, without a day off all month, and get two bundles of firewood at year's end!
I'm not opening a massage parlor for rich ladies' pleasure, okay?
But when he remembered that Clear Stream Academy was located in what had been Shandong in his previous life, where everyone was a towering, burly fellow over six feet tall, Lin Ke was tempted.
Just think: back in the day, Confucius had been a brawny Shandong man who traveled through the various states with a whole band of brawny men, establishing his venerable standing that way.
If Lin Ke went out in the future with three hundred mighty masters over his head and five hundred thousand strapping disciples behind his backside...
Who could touch him? Who would dare provoke him?
So Lin Ke looked at Dean Wu with a smile.
"So many senior brothers and sisters want to take me as their master? How embarrassing! What day are they arriving? Remember to bring your own sheets and bedding. We don't provide toiletries. Of course, I'll open shops nearby selling the relevant supplies, so don't worry about being unable to buy them..."
"Oh, right, remind the senior brothers and sisters to bring some money when they formally become disciples. I don't charge tuition, but there will still be some miscellaneous fees. Paper, brushes, ink, books, and all that cost money, after all..."
"Huh?" Dean Wu was a little dazed. "Well... um... your master-no, your disciple hasn't made preparations yet. How about letting your disciple go back and inform them first?"
"All right." Lin Ke nodded.