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

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

Assistant Li was clearly taken aback by the bland "writing a thesis," and after two seconds...

"Why would I call you? What else could I be here for? Of course, I'm here to clean up your mess!" Assistant Li spoke rapidly, his words carrying the exasperation of someone whose rhythm had been disrupted.

"Don't try to use your thesis as an excuse. Now, right now, come to the administration building! Let me tell you the truth, Professor Yan's family is arriving soon. You have to give them a satisfactory explanation today. If you don't handle this well and appease their family, I don't think you can graduate!"

It's always good to be cautious. He knew all too well what kind of people these bureaucrats who controlled academic resources were, and at this critical juncture, any verbal threats were unacceptable.

If it's not recorded, the other party can simply deny it later and arbitrarily label him as "disrespectful to teachers and elders, or of bad character," thus legally and compliantly blocking his degree.

An old fox, maybe, but to deal with these unscrupulous people, you have to be even more meticulous than them.

"I can give you an explanation." Zhao Shuyao looked at the recording waveform on the screen, his tone still flat. "However, Assistant Li, I have a problem. I get low blood sugar when I'm hungry, and I tend to talk nonsense when I'm low blood sugar. So, I need to go have dinner first, and I'll come over after I finish eating."

"you……"

"beep--"

Without giving the other party any chance to refute or continue yelling, Zhao Shuyao directly cut off the call.

Giving up the initiative is out of the question; the rhythm must be controlled by ourselves.

Meanwhile, inside the administrative office of the Second Teaching Building.

Assistant Li remained frozen behind his large desk, phone in hand. The busy tone from the receiver felt like a resounding slap across the face of his prized administrative authority.

It took him a full three seconds to realize that he, a dignified assistant in the dean's office, had been hung up on by a student who was about to graduate.

"Zhao Shuyao!"

Assistant Li roared in the empty office, veins throbbing on his forehead: "You don't know what's good for you! You just wait! If I can get you a degree, I'm not Li!"

He raised his hand, as if to slam the phone to the ground, but his reason returned instantly when he caught a glimpse of the bitten Apple logo on the back of the phone.

This is a newly released iPhone 6 Plus, and it cost him quite a bit of money.

The movement abruptly changed direction mid-air, forcefully throwing the phone onto the soft leather sofa next to it. The phone bounced twice on the sofa cushion before landing safely.

Assistant Li walked over, picked up the screen to check it, and only after confirming it wasn't broken did he sit back down in the boss's chair, his chest heaving.

Zhao Shuyao, of course, had no idea about the comical performance that Assistant Li was putting on in the office.

I changed into a coat, put my phone in my pocket, and walked out of the dormitory building at a leisurely pace.

6:30 p.m., Northeastern University's No. 1 canteen.

It was just past the end of the mealtime, and there weren't many people in the cafeteria. Zhao Shuyao carried his tray, ordered a plate of stir-fried pork with green peppers over rice, plus a bowl of free seaweed and egg drop soup, found a corner seat, picked up his spoon, and took a bite of rice and a sip of soup.

His brain wasn't idle; it was rapidly analyzing the situation that was about to unfold.

The family came knocking, which is a standard plot point. Yan Chongnian was admitted to the intensive care unit, and someone who could keep order and knew how to use the rules had to step forward to put pressure on the school and force this poor student to back down.

The meal took a full twenty minutes. Zhao Shuyao put his plate in the recycling bin, grabbed a tissue to wipe his mouth, and then walked towards the administration building.

At this time of day, most students are strolling on the playground or have gone to the library, and the path leading to the administration building is quiet.

We arrived at the third floor.

At the end of the corridor, a cold white light shone through the crack in the door of Assistant Li's office.

Zhao Shuyao stopped in front of the door, straightened the collar of his windbreaker. Although he looked down on the arrogant assistant inside, they were all cultured people who had received higher education, so the proper procedures still had to be followed.

Raise your hand.

"Knock knock."

There was a moment of silence inside the door.

"Come in," came Assistant Li's voice, deliberately lowered, sounding extremely deep and unfriendly.

Zhao Shuyao pressed the doorknob and pushed the door open to enter.

In an instant, my gaze took in the office environment.

Assistant Li did not sit behind the desk, but instead sat on a single sofa to the side, leaning slightly forward with an obvious obsequious posture. On the sofa opposite Assistant Li, a man sat upright.

The man was around thirty years old, wearing a well-tailored dark gray pure wool trench coat over a high-necked cashmere sweater, and a pair of gold-rimmed half-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

Without saying a word, he simply turned his head the moment Zhao Shuyao entered, his gaze fixed intently on Zhao Shuyao's face.

Zhao Shuyao continued walking forward without stopping, meeting the other person's gaze.

A young man, glasses, and a trench coat—the kind of scholarly air cultivated from a life of luxury in an ivory tower.

Information matching complete.

Yan Chongnian's youngest son, Yan Jianhui (pseudonym).

Zhao Shuyao's lips curled up subtly. Good timing.

Zhao Shuyao, who had worked in the historical circles in his previous life, knew the Yan family's descendants very well. Yan Chongnian made his fortune and accumulated a lot of wealth and academic connections by whitewashing the Qing Dynasty on television.

Ironically, this esteemed figure who constantly championed traditional culture and ethnic integration had an eldest daughter who settled in Toronto, Canada, at a young age, and a second son who obtained a U.S. green card early on.

The only one left behind was his youngest son, Yan Jianhui, who had settled down in the country.

Why? Because someone has to stay at home to inherit the old man's vast academic legacy and the intricate web of interests.

Yan Jianhui is very smart. He did not study history, but law, and is now a law professor at a well-known political and legal university in China.

For someone who understands the law and rules and has access to vast resources to target an ordinary graduate student who hasn't even graduated yet, it's like trying to crush him on both legal and moral grounds with a "dimensional reduction attack."

The three people's gazes met briefly in the air.

Assistant Li broke the silence first, standing up and pointing at Zhao Shuyao, his tone clearly a mix of seeking praise and reprimand: "Professor Yan, this is Zhao Shuyao."

After the introductions were finished, Assistant Li turned and glared at Zhao Shuyao, his eyebrows furrowed: "Zhao Shuyao, what are you still standing there for? Can't you see your elders and superiors are here? Hurry up and come over and apologize!"

Zhao Shuyao acted as if he hadn't heard the words "bowing down and admitting his mistake," and went straight to the coffee table in the reception area.

After glancing at the layout of the sofa, Assistant Li sat in a single seat, Yan Jianhui sat on one side of the sofa, and Zhao Shuyao walked directly to the other side of the sofa without any hesitation, turned around, bent down, and sat down very naturally.

The entire movement was fluid and graceful, with the back straight and the hands folded on the knees.

He showed no fear whatsoever that a student from a humble background would have when meeting a big shot; instead, he acted as if he were attending an equal academic seminar.

Yan Jianhui, who had remained silent, slightly narrowed his pupils.

From the moment Zhao Shuyao entered, his eyes, hidden behind his gold-rimmed glasses, had been scrutinizing the young man.

Based on his past experience in handling disputes, a third-year graduate student with no money or connections, facing the threat of not getting a diploma and the risk of being sued, would inevitably have evasive eyes and tense or even slightly trembling body language when entering the room.

But the person in front of me wasn't like that. He was too relaxed. This relaxation wasn't a pretentious act of being a troublemaker, but an absolute composure that came from within, a composure that showed he didn't feel inferior to anyone.

Yan Jianhui didn't speak; he didn't need to open his mouth, others would naturally bark for him.

"What are you doing!"

Assistant Li immediately flew into a rage, jumping up from his seat and pointing at Zhao Shuyao's nose. "Who gave you permission to sit down? What's wrong with you, student? Such a serious teaching accident happened, and neither the leaders nor the family members have said anything, yet you just sat down so brazenly. Don't you have any basic manners? I think you're completely lawless in this school!"

The atmosphere in the office instantly became extremely oppressive.

This is a standard obedience test, depriving you of the right to be on equal footing, making you stand up and be scrutinized, and breaking down your psychological defenses from a physical standpoint.

Zhao Shuyao turned his head and looked calmly at Assistant Li, who was jumping up and down.

Instead of arguing heatedly about whether he had made a mistake, he posed a counter-question.

"Assistant Li, I don't understand." Zhao Shuyao's voice was calm and clear. "Isn't our country's current social system a society governed by the rule of law where everyone is equal?"

Assistant Li was taken aback, not quite following the abrupt change of topic: "Stop trying to twist my words! What does this have to do with equality for all!"

"How can it not be a problem?" Zhao Shuyao leaned back slightly on the sofa and spread his hands. "If my mentor were here, out of respect for his teacher, I, as his disciple, should stand aside without his permission. This is a traditional virtue."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Assistant Li and Yan Jianhui respectively.

"But you, Assistant Li, are in administrative management, not a mentor who imparts knowledge and skills; as for this Professor Yan..." Zhao Shuyao nodded slightly to Yan Jianhui.

"You are a family representative here to resolve the dispute. Strictly speaking, our current relationship is that of parties involved. Since we are not teacher and student, we are equal citizens."

Zhao Shuyao crossed his hands again, leaned forward, and looked at Assistant Li's face, which was already flushed red.

"What, once I'm in your office, I'm even deprived of the right to sit down? Or is it that in your mind, anyone who is a leader, or a family member with the title of 'professor,' is inherently superior to an ordinary student in terms of personality and status?"

Every word was scathing, without a single vulgar word or hysterical emotional outburst, yet it directly and firmly pinned the heavy accusations of "undermining the concept of equality and the rule of law" and "abusing bureaucratic privileges" on Assistant Li's head.

Assistant Li's mouth was agape, his finger frozen in mid-air.

His answer "yes" is an admission that he abused his power, and in this era of social media, such a statement could directly cost him his job.

His answer "no" was tantamount to admitting that it was reasonable for Zhao Shuyao to sit down, and that his earlier reprimand was completely unreasonable.

No matter how he answers, he will lose face.

Zhao Shuyao ignored Assistant Li's expression, which resembled that of someone who had swallowed a fly, and slowly turned his head, fixing his gaze on Yan Jianhui, who had remained silent to the side.