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

Inside the administrative office, the light from the incandescent bulbs shone on the glass panel of the coffee table, refracting a cold, metallic sheen.

Yan Jianhui's three raised fingers were still hanging in mid-air. The three conditions—a pinned apology, deletion of all videos on the internet, and full reimbursement of the bill including special expenses—were like a tightly woven net, carrying the unique logical pressure of a professor from a political and legal academy, looming over him.

Zhao Shuyao sat upright on the sofa.

Looking at those three slender fingers, this is a classic negotiation trap. The other party throws out three absolutely unacceptable bottom lines, trying to psychologically break down a college student with no social experience and force him to make substantial concessions in the ensuing tug-of-war.

Zhao Shuyao's gaze followed Yan Jianhui's finger upwards, meeting the eyes hidden behind the gold-rimmed glasses.

"laugh."

A soft laugh suddenly broke the silence of the office.

Zhao Shuyao leaned back, his weight sinking into the sofa. He shook his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Professor Yan, I've thought about your three requests carefully just now, and the conclusion is that I can't fulfill even one of them."

His voice wasn't loud, but his enunciation was clear.

"First of all, the content I publish online is entirely my personal academic deduction based on objective historical materials. I have neither fabricated a timeline nor forged the county gazetteer accounts of that time." Zhao Shuyao placed his hands on his knees, his fingers interlaced.

"You understand the law and should know the principle of 'whoever makes the claim must prove it.' If you, or Mr. Yan on his sickbed, believe that my calculation of the 10 million taels deficit is wrong, please bring out the Ming and Qing dynasty archives that have been verified to be genuine and refute me line by line."

He looked directly into Yan Jianhui's eyes, his gaze unwavering.

"As long as you can provide solid academic evidence to overturn my economic calculations, I will withdraw all videos from the internet at any time, write a 10,000-word self-criticism, and post an apology at the top of the internet for a month without hesitation."

Zhao Shuyao spread his hands, his tone suddenly softening, taking on a matter-of-fact relaxed tone: "However, if you can't produce any evidence and just want to use your seniority to intimidate people, then I'm sorry, I won't delete a single word."

Yan Jianhui's gaze darkened, and he slowly withdrew his fingers, placing them on his knees.

"As for an apology, that's even more out of the question." Zhao Shuyao continued to push forward his logical defenses. "Yesterday afternoon, in a lecture hall with several hundred people, the old professor clearly stated his position and encouraged everyone to express different opinions. This was an open academic discussion."

"We disagreed, and the elderly gentleman fainted due to a flare-up of his underlying medical condition. I regret this, but I did nothing wrong, so why should I apologize?"

Zhao Shuyao finally pointed to the water glass on the coffee table: "As for the third point you mentioned, full reimbursement of all special medical expenses, I have already made it very clear that I adhere to the original principle of liability determination. If you feel it is inappropriate, you can take the bill to court and sue me. I will never renege on my debt whatever amount the judge orders me to pay."

one two three.

Clear and logical, leaving no room for error.

Sitting on the single sofa, Assistant Li couldn't take it anymore. He had been hoping that Yan Jianhui would step in and scare the kid into tears, but the other party not only refused to do anything but also passed the buck to the court.

"Zhao Shuyao!" Assistant Li abruptly stood up, slamming his hand on the edge of the coffee table with a loud thud. "Why are you so stubborn? Is it so hard to get you to soften your stance and apologize?"

Assistant Li, panting heavily, tapped his fingers erratically in the air, trying to suppress the other party with a sense of group identity: "Who is Professor Yan? He's a nationally recognized master of Qing Dynasty history. He's dedicated his life to scholarship; how could his views be wrong? Don't think you're invincible just because you've spent a few days in the archives and flipped through a few tattered books!"

Assistant Li took half a step forward, looking down at Zhao Shuyao from his superior position.

"Don't you even use your brain? Professor Yan's theories have been discussed on major TV stations and academic forums for so many years. Why is it that after all these years, not a single professor or scholar from all over the country has stood up to oppose him? Are all the history students in the country combined not as capable as a graduate student like you who hasn't even grown a beard yet?"

This is a highly deceptive social interrogation, using the silent majority to prove who the truth belongs to.

Zhao Shuyao raised his head and glanced at Assistant Li, whose face was flushed. There was no panic in his eyes, but rather a deep sadness.

That's a tragedy for the academic community.

"Assistant Li, that's a very good question." Zhao Shuyao sighed, his tone unusually calm. "As for why so many experts and scholars across the country haven't stood up to refute him, to be honest, I don't know, and I don't want to know."

He paused briefly, letting the weight of his words settle in the office.

"Perhaps they need Mr. Yan's approval authority over project funds; perhaps they are applying for senior professional titles and need his approval vote; or perhaps they just want a stable, fixed salary to pay the down payment on a school district house."

Zhao Shuyao's gaze swept over Assistant Li and then landed on Yan Jianhui's face.

"You know better than I how deep the waters are in this circle and how complicated the exchanges of interests are, but—" Zhao Shuyao's voice suddenly rose a fraction, his spine straightened, "My education and our school motto do not allow me to pretend to be blind to this matter."

Meeting the shocked gazes of the two, he said, word by word, "Some things, black and white, cannot be turned gray just because everyone closes their eyes. I stand up not because I am smarter than all the scholars in the country, but simply because my spine has not been bent by those few bushels of rice."

The office fell into dead silence.

Assistant Li's mouth was agape, his face flushed, but he couldn't utter a single word. Zhao Shuyao had directly torn away the veil of warmth and politeness in academia, laying bare the naked exchange of interests.

Yan Jianhui pushed up his glasses.

He completely abandoned that hypocritical facade of respectability. The other party not only understood the rules, but also had an unbreakable internal belief system. To deal with someone who was so unyielding, the only option was to crush them with reality.

"Assistant Li." Yan Jianhui raised his hand, stopping the hospital office assistant who was about to lash out again.

He stood up, walked to the side of the coffee table, put his hands in the pockets of his dark gray trench coat, and looked down at Zhao Shuyao.

"Assistant Li, please stop trying to persuade me. As an administrative staff member, you have already fulfilled your obligations. Some people are just born without knowing what respect is." Yan Jianhui's voice dropped to freezing point, carrying the arrogance and certainty unique to legal elites.

"Zhao Shuyao," Yan Jianhui said with a cold smile, "I see it now. All that rambling on about education and backbone isn't to prove any academic point. You're just trying to use my father's name to gain notoriety."

This is an extremely malicious characterization, directly reducing Zhao Shuyao's motives from the pursuit of truth to a mercenary hype.

Yan Jianhui didn't give Zhao Shuyao a chance to refute. He took out his business card holder from his pocket, pulled out a business card, and casually threw it on the coffee table. The business card slid half a meter across the glass tabletop and stopped in front of Zhao Shuyao.

The document lists several titles: Professor of Law at Beijing University of Political Science and Law, Partner of a senior law firm.

"You just told me to sue you, very well." Yan Jianhui looked down at him, his tone revealing an undisguised threat. "I see you don't quite understand my identity. I'm a legal researcher. Since you want to make a big fuss and become famous, then I'll grant your wish."

With both hands braced against the back of the sofa, the feeling of oppression was palpable.

"See you in court. However, before you receive the summons, I suggest you find out how long it takes to complete the first and second instance proceedings in a cross-provincial lawsuit involving such a significant dispute over reputation and health rights."

Yan Jianhui stared coldly into Zhao Shuyao's eyes and unleashed his final trump card.

"You're a third-year graduate student, about to face your thesis defense and job hunting. Do you think your department would dare issue you a diploma to a student burdened with such a serious civil lawsuit and whose reputation in academia is completely ruined?"

He straightened up and straightened his collar: "Even if you get a worthless diploma, carrying that kind of resume out of the school gates, I'd like to see which reputable organization, which school, or which archive would dare to hire you!"

See the picture poorly.

Using cumbersome legal procedures to drag out a poor student with no resources, and using academic connections to block someone's employment prospects, are the most common and ruthless methods used by those in high positions.

Assistant Li, listening nearby, broke out in a cold sweat, but at the same time felt a strange sense of satisfaction. This was the consequence of not knowing what was good for you. He turned his head, hoping to see the expected collapse, fear, or kneeling and begging for mercy on Zhao Shuyao's face.

But he was disappointed.

Zhao Shuyao didn't look at the business card on the table. He remained calmly seated on the sofa, even reaching for the glass of water in front of him that he hadn't touched, and slowly took a sip.

Zhao Shuyao raised his head, his face showing no fear whatsoever, but rather a pure, almost absurd smile, as he looked at Yan Jianhui as if he were watching a clown showing off his clumsy magic tricks.

"Professor Yan." Zhao Shuyao raised an eyebrow, making a slightly exaggerated expression of confusion.

"You've said so much just now, trying to intimidate me with your academic reputation, and threatening me with your diploma and potential employers," Zhao Shuyao tilted his head slightly, his tone relaxed to the point of teasing. "Are you threatening me?"

Yan Jianhui frowned and said coldly, "I'm just stating an objective fact that's about to happen."

"Really?" Zhao Shuyao patted his knees and stood up from the sofa.

He wasn't as tall as Yan Jianhui, but his straight back gave him a completely overwhelming presence.

"If you believe this to be true, then Professor Yan, I may have to disappoint you greatly." Zhao Shuyao's lips curled up, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

"First," Zhao Shuyao held up one finger, "about work. I have no interest in working in a system where seniority determines everything and people rely on mutual flattery to get by. I'm a sharp-tongued and stubborn person, and I'd probably drive my boss crazy if I went there. So, you don't need to worry about finding me a job."

He raised his second finger and continued speaking, meeting Yan Jianhui's livid expression.

"Secondly, regarding seeing you in court." Zhao Shuyao's smile gradually faded, replaced by a cold composure. "I not only don't rule out going to court, I'm actually looking forward to it. However, the court demands equal evidence, so please remember to let me know when you submit your medical documents."