He fiercely criticized the Manchu scholar clique and the twelve emperors of the Qing Dynasty.

In March, the morning breeze from Fengtian swept across the playground of Northeastern University, stirring up a few withered leaves on the ground. Just as dawn was breaking, groups of students were already exercising on the synthetic track.

Zhao Shuyao was wearing a faded gray tracksuit and was jogging his fourth lap. Cold air rushed into his nostrils and down his trachea, causing a sharp pain in his chest.

My legs felt like they were made of lead; every step I took required me to engage all the muscles in my body.

Rebirth is indeed a matter that doesn't follow any basic rules. While adjusting his breathing rhythm, Zhao Shuyao muttered to himself that when others return to their student days, they are not necessarily given a complete transformation, but at least they should be given a photographic memory or an indestructible body.

When it came to myself, I relied entirely on this weak body, weakened by staying up all night writing papers, to pull through. I brought back the knowledge, but my physical health, the foundation of everything, didn't keep up at all.

As Zhao Shuyao ran to the bend in front of the podium, three boys carrying backpacks walked towards him. One of them, who was wearing glasses, stopped and stared directly at Zhao Shuyao's face.

Zhao Shuyao slowed his pace. The moment their eyes met, the bespectacled boy didn't say anything, but solemnly raised his right hand and gave him a thumbs up.

The two boys next to him nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with undisguised admiration.

Zhao Shuyao understood the meaning behind the gesture. After a night of fermentation, the one-sided crushing defeat in the lecture hall last night had become the most secretive and passionate topic of conversation in this university.

The students were afraid of authority and dared not speak out openly, but they conveyed their empathy in this most simple way.

He nodded slightly in response to this silent support, and then continued with his heavy steps.

Zhao Shuyao finally couldn't hold on any longer. He stopped at the edge of the playground, in front of the steps, his hands on his knees, panting heavily. Then he plopped down on the cold cement steps, feeling the rhythm of his heart pounding in his chest.

Just then, a fair hand appeared at the edge of my field of vision, holding an unopened bottle of mineral water, which was handed forward along the arm.

Without hesitation, Zhao Shuyao reached out and took the bottle, unscrewed the plastic cap, tilted his head back and gulped down most of it. The water slid down his esophagus into his stomach, relieving the dryness in his throat.

Zhao Shuyao wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his head away.

The water delivery person was a girl, wearing a beige knitted cardigan and light blue straight-leg jeans. Her shoulder-length hair was not styled and hung loosely on both sides of her face.

The morning sunlight slanted across her profile, softening her features.

Zhao Shuyao searched his memory bank and confirmed that he had never seen this face before.

"Thank you." Zhao Shuyao shook the half-empty bottle of water in his hand, his tone very casual. "But I don't think I know you."

The girl sat down next to him on the next step, hugging her knees with her arms around them, her gaze fixed on the distant goal: "It's normal that you don't recognize me."

The girl smiled, her voice soft but with a distinctive Wu dialect accent: "But I know you. Right now, in the entire Dongda University, the very few who don't know you are probably the minority. You're remarkable."

Upon hearing this praise, Zhao Shuyao leaned against the step railing behind him, supported himself with his hands on the ground, and stretched out his two sore legs.

"I wouldn't dare accept the title of 'amazing.'" Zhao Shuyao's lips curled up slightly. "Even if I were to have some fame, it would be a bad one. I'd be known for driving old scholars crazy and for having no respect for elders. Right now, countless people are looking up words in the dictionary to curse me."

The girl turned her head and carefully examined Zhao Shuyao's calm face: "Do you regret it?"

The girl asked, "What happened yesterday has spread. I heard from my roommate that your spot for staying on as a faculty member, which you should have been sure of, was taken away by the department. You lost your job just for a moment of pleasure."

Zhao Shuyao followed the girl's gaze and looked at the gradually brightening sky. The clouds were dyed orange-red by the morning glow, and several birds flew over the top of the teaching building.

"You can't say you've lost something you haven't gotten your hands on." Zhao Shuyao spoke calmly, without any regret about losing his job. "If you have to worry about your livelihood before you can even tell the truth, then there's no point in studying."

He looked away, then into the girl's eyes: "You came all this way to the playground this morning to bring me water, you didn't just do a psychological survey for our department leaders, did you?"

The girl waved her hand and rested her chin on her knees. "I'm not that bored, and I didn't come to see you specifically for this."

The girl's tone became lighter, "I just happened to be passing by and saw a big celebrity panting here. I thought it was kind of funny. I also heard your accent in the video last night and thought I'd come over and recognize a fellow townsman."

Zhao Shuyao raised an eyebrow, his brain instantly picking up on the girl's distinctive pronunciation at the end of her words. When studying in another province, people are used to announcing their province, but the accent in those few sentences was highly recognizable in that specific area.

"From Jiangnan?" Zhao Shuyao nodded. "No wonder, you have that gentle and quiet temperament of a woman from a water town. Your area has such good educational resources, why did you decide to come all the way to the north to study at university? Usually when people fill out college applications, few go out of their province, let alone cross half of China."

Upon hearing this, the girl's previously cheerful eyes dimmed slightly, and she unconsciously drew circles on the steps with her hand.

"I don't want to be stuck in the same place." The girl's voice lowered. "Back when we had to choose between arts and sciences, I really wanted to study arts, like history or Chinese literature, but my family absolutely refused. They said that science majors could find jobs easily and could get a stable job in a state-owned enterprise or become a civil servant. I couldn't go against their wishes, so I chose science. When I applied to university, I simply filled in Northeastern University, which was the furthest from home."

She looked up and gave Zhao Shuyao a self-deprecating smile: "I want to take advantage of these few years in college to see a different world. If I stay in the province and have to go home every weekend, my life will become a program with pre-written code."

"But it doesn't matter. I'm a senior this year and will graduate with my bachelor's degree soon. My family has already arranged an internship for me there, so it's almost impossible for me to travel for extended periods of time again."

Zhao Shuyao didn't interrupt, observing the helplessness beneath the girl's calm exterior—a helplessness all too common in modern society.

The generation's pursuit of stability has stifled the initial impulses of countless young people. This is, to some extent, the same closed-loop logic as that of the academic cliques who control the academic world—using the pretext of doing what's best for you to forcibly dictate your path.

After a while, more and more students appeared on the playground, and the sound of dense footsteps came from the running track.

The girl straightened up and looked at Zhao Shuyao: "I'm a chemical engineering student, and I have absolutely no interest in those devices and reagents."

The girl's tone returned to normal, "But I watched your video yesterday. Your analysis of that period of history, especially the part about 'ideological constraints,' really touched me. Could you add a green bubble? I might ask you some history questions occasionally after I'm no longer in school."

Zhao Shuyao smiled, reached into his sweatpants pocket, pulled out his old Huawei phone, scanned the QR code, and handed it over.

"No problem." Zhao Shuyao watched the girl scan the code. "But I'm not one to mince words. If you ask me about history, I'll tell you the truth."

With a "beep," the friend request was successfully added. The girl glanced at the WeChat nickname "Idle Person" on the screen, put her phone in her pocket, stood up, and patted the dust off her pants.

"Then I won't disturb the famous person's training any longer." The girl waved her hand. "See you later."

Zhao Shuyao nodded, watching the girl's figure disappear around the corner of the tree-lined path at the exit of the playground. He sat there for another minute, then stood up, stretched, and his bones made a few crisp cracking sounds.

It's time to go back, wash up, and fill our stomachs.

Bathed in the morning sunlight, Zhao Shuyao strolled slowly back along the stone path leading to his dormitory, took out his phone from his pocket, and skillfully opened the "Toutiao" app.

The red number on the "My" icon in the bottom right corner has changed to "99+". Enter the creator backend.

Zhao Shuyao stopped and stared at the numbers on the screen. The account he created last night, "Idle Person from the History Department of Northeastern University," now had 135,000 followers.

The post with the full video, which was published last night, garnered over three million views and more than one hundred thousand likes.

In 2016, during the early, wild growth period when text and images were just beginning to transition to short videos, this hardcore reversal, coupled with authentic content that challenged authority, was a traffic-generating code that could be used to achieve a level of disruptive impact.

Open the comments section, and a massive number of messages flood the page.

"I woke up this morning and saw this video, and it instantly energized me. This is true integrity, this is the attitude towards scholarship!"

"By combining the garden renovation with the marriage exchange, the logic becomes clear. How could I have believed their united front rhetoric before?"

"Senior Zhao, hold on to the pressure, please don't delete your account!"

Looking at these comments, Zhao Shuyao felt increasingly confident. He had completely shaken the foundation of public opinion. Those ordinary people weren't stupid; they just lacked access to accurate information in the past. Now that the window had been opened, the power they unleashed was astonishing.

But as you scroll down, another group of highly organized comments comes into view—a side effect of the producer's departure last night.

"Don't be brainwashed, everyone. This student is shameless in his pursuit of fame. Professor Yan's academic achievements are nationally recognized. Who does he think he is?"

"I think this kid is being paid by some powerful organization to promote historical nihilism and smear our great national unity!"

"Boycott this account and call for a complete ban on this student who stirs up trouble online!"

Some verified blue-V accounts claiming to be insiders even started posting lengthy articles in the comments section, refuting Zhao Shuyao's remarks from last night by citing tedious official Qing Dynasty historical records, attempting to muddy the waters and characterize Zhao Shuyao as an online troll who relies on jokes to attract attention.

Zhao Shuyao stood on the steps leading to the dormitory, looking at the arrogant doubts and smears. The corners of his mouth gradually turned up, and his eyes showed no fear, but rather an extreme excitement.

Last night in the lecture hall, due to time and venue constraints, he had no physical evidence and could only rely on logical deduction. Those academic cliques and capitalists who protect their masters thought that this would be enough to define the matter, but they were sorely mistaken.

In his mind, countless local gazetteers that he had once read to pieces, photocopies of officials' memorials that had been gathering dust in the archives of various provinces, and even those Ming Dynasty folk diaries that had never been publicly altered were flashing through his mind line by line.

"You want evidence, huh?" Zhao Shuyao locked his phone screen, put it back in his pocket, and started walking up the steps of the dormitory building.

Since the vested interests behind the academic clique want to use capital to extinguish this fire online, they can no longer rely on just one video to conquer the world.

He wants to create a situation that even their ancestors couldn't clear, under the watchful eyes of tens of millions of people across the internet.