Official title: Refused to stay at the university, started his career in a rural town.

Wang Jianmin, president of Handong University, put down the People's Daily. The words "Handong University Model Commended by the State Education Commission" on the front page gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.

"Look, look!"

He slammed the newspaper on the table and laughed heartily at Vice Principal Su Huaishan.

"How many people advised me not to indulge Yang Fan's interdisciplinary talent cultivation and social practice service for local economic development plan? Look at them now!"

Su Huaishan smiled and handed over the teacup: "You have a good eye for people."

"Accurate? I've struck gold!"

Wang Jianmin pointed to the six characters "Handong University Model" on the newspaper.

"When it comes to the reform of higher education institutions nationwide, Handong University is at the forefront. Last time at the Ministry of Education meeting, those old fogies were being sarcastic to me, saying something like, 'Your political science and law department produces cadres, other departments shouldn't bother joining in.' How about this time? Doesn't it hurt their pride?"

"Wait until the next meeting, and I'll teach them a lesson. If I don't allocate some resources for them next year, they can forget about ever coming to my Handong University for research and study!"

Knowing the principal's temperament, Su Huaishan didn't respond, only smiled.

After venting his anger, the principal leaned back in his chair and said, "Where's Yang Fan? Call him here."

When Yang Fan knocked on the door and came in, the principal was holding a teacup and looking him over.

More than six years have passed, from undergraduate to master's degree, but this kid's spirit hasn't changed at all—he dresses simply, stands straight, and has unwavering eyes.

"Principal, you wanted to see me?"

"Sit down." The principal pushed the newspaper towards me. "Take a look."

Yang Fan glanced at it, his expression remaining unchanged.

The principal was somewhat surprised: "Your proposal was published in the People's Daily, and this is the reaction?"

"The plan was initiated by you and Principal Su; I only got started," Yang Fan said. "Without the school's platform, it's just a pile of waste paper."

The principal stared at him for three seconds, then suddenly laughed: "You little rascal!"

He put down his teacup and said, "Alright, let's cut to the chase. You really aren't considering staying on at the university?"

"It takes three years to become an associate professor, and six years to become a full professor. Twenty years later, I'll be able to take over your professor Su's position."

The room fell silent.

Su Huaishan added, "Yang Fan, this is a path that many people would kill for. Think about it again."

Yang Fan did not hesitate.

"Principal," he began, "you taught me that theory must be put into practice, and I want to go to the grassroots level."

Do you know how tough it is working at the grassroots level?

"I know. That's precisely why I'm going."

Wang Jianmin remained silent for a long time. The sycamore leaves outside the window were rustling in the wind.

"Then I'll find you a rare one, hmm, Qingping Township."

He finally spoke, his voice becoming deep and somber.

"The poorest township in Anyang County, Ningzhou City, has an average income of less than 200 yuan per person. Roads are impassable, electricity is unreliable, and eight college graduate cadres have left in nine years. Go there, and don't complain!"

Yang Fan stood up: "Don't shout."

Wang Jianmin waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit down: "There's something else. Who's going to take over as student council president now that you're gone?"

Yang Fan said, "Qi Tongwei."

"Qi Tongwei?" Su Huaishan frowned slightly.

"He's capable," Yang Fan said. "What the student union needs now is to cooperate with the school to steadily advance, not to come up with any new tricks. Tongwei has strong execution skills, so he's a good fit."

Wang Jianmin pondered for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "Handong University has been established for over a hundred years, and this is the first time that the previous student union president has appointed a successor. You rascal, I'm in a good mood today, so go ahead with it."

"The old man asked one last time, are you afraid of hardship?"

Seeing Yang Fan's determined gaze, Wang Jianmin chuckled without waiting for a reply.

"Alright, go prepare your graduation thesis. If you fail, you'll see if I have to hire a tutor!"

Yang Fan remained silent, but bowed deeply.

It was common knowledge that these two elderly men doted on him during his time at school.

He also strongly supported his somewhat ahead-of-the-clock, but inappropriate, articles, even though they received a lot of criticism.

As he stepped outside, he ran into Qi Tongwei, whom he had asked someone to call in advance.

Qi Tongwei's forehead was still covered in sweat. He had just returned from a research trip and had come running over when he heard that Yang Fan had summoned him.

"Tongwei, come for a walk with me."

Looking at Director Qi, who was almost as powerful as heaven in a TV series in his previous life, and Qi Tongwei, who is hardworking and ambitious in this life, Yang Fan's eyes were quite complicated.

On the playground, the setting sun cast long shadows of the two people.

Qi Tongwei walked to Yang Fan's right, and students passing by would occasionally greet them. The student union president and vice president of Handong University walking side-by-side naturally attracted a lot of attention.

"Senior," Qi Tongwei couldn't help but ask, "did the principal want you to stay on as a faculty member?"

"Yes, and they made many promises."

Yang Fan didn't intend to hide it.

Upon hearing this, Qi Tongwei's eyes revealed a deep sense of envy. During his time at school, this senior brother, who also came from a poor background, made him realize that children from mountain villages could also become holy sons of sects.

Yang Fan took a few steps, then suddenly stopped.

"Tongwei, three pieces of advice, or rather, three thoughts."

Qi Tongwei was taken aback and instinctively stood up straight.

"First, for people like us who come from rural areas, every step is more difficult than for others. Precisely because it is difficult, we must take each step carefully. Shortcuts may seem faster, but they are often the longest journeys."

"Secondly, you'll most likely end up in the legal and political field. That field is full of temptations and traps. Remember—procedural justice is the bottom line. Never, ever cross that line."

"Third, Chen Yang is a good girl. But if one day someone uses their power to pressure you and force you to make a choice you don't want to make..." Yang Fan looked at him, "Remember, your knees are more valuable than any official position."

Qi Tongwei was silent for a moment, then smiled: "Senior brother, why are you so serious today?"

Yang Fan did not laugh.

He patted Qi Tongwei on the shoulder, then turned and left.

As Qi Tongwei watched his retreating figure, he suddenly felt something stuck in his throat, something he couldn't say.

-

three days later.

A dilapidated three-wheeled vehicle bumped along the mountain road for four hours. Yang Fan sat in the back of the vehicle with only a quilt and a box of books as his luggage.

The elderly farmer driving the car turned to look at him: "Young man, what are you doing in Qingping?"

"Work."

The old farmer sized him up: "A college student? I advise you to turn back now. Once you come to that place, you can't leave."

Yang Fan did not respond.

As the car rounded a bend in the mountain, gray mud-brick houses and fields of corn stretched across the hillside came into view. The setting sun bathed everything in an earthy yellow hue.

The car stopped.

Yang Fan jumped off the car and pulled a brand-new notebook from his luggage. It was a gift from the principal and contained only two words: "Handong".

He turned to the first page and unscrewed the pen cap.

The pen tip lands on the paper, stroke by stroke.

"July 17, 1994, the wind rose in Qingping!"

He closed his notebook, picked up his luggage, and headed towards the township government.

The old farmer behind him shook his head, started the three-wheeled vehicle, and sputtered away at the end of the mountain road.

In the distance, wisps of smoke rose from the rooftops of mud-brick houses, stretching into a gray line in the setting sun.