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

There was still a slight chill in the breeze, but the sunshine was so good that it made you want to stretch.

After lunch, Zhao Shuyao carried two rare Ming and Qing dynasty county gazetteers borrowed from the library and strolled back to his dormitory. Along the way, some unfamiliar students occasionally stared at him, but he pretended not to notice.

He suddenly realized that life could be so interesting.

In my past life, during this period, I was like a fully wound-up top, serving tea and water to Director Zhang, and carefully scrutinizing every modifier in my graduation thesis in my advisor's office, afraid that I might accidentally lose that elusive spot to stay at the university.

For the sake of appearances in the eyes of others, he sheathed all his thorns and shrugged his spine inch by inch.

Now everything has been abandoned.

I don't care about the so-called staffing quota, I don't care about the gloomy face of the hospital leaders, and the sky actually feels wider.

Back in the dormitory, Yang Wei went to prepare for the provincial civil service exam interview. The room was quiet. Zhao Shuyao pulled out a chair and poured a glass of water.

At 2 PM, the time in the lower right corner of the computer screen jumped exactly once.

The screen of the old phone on the table lit up, and a voice application prompt popped up on "Green Bubble," with the contact name being "Reporter Wang from Southern Youth Daily."

Zhao Shuyao answered the call via voice message: "Reporter Wang, are you ready? I'll call you directly via video."

"Okay, Teacher Zhao is available anytime." The voice on the other end sounded somewhat urgent.

Zhao Shuyao ended the voice call and clicked on the video call on the green bubble interface.

The screen went black for two seconds before switching back to the main content.

Across from him sat a young man in a dark blue shirt, with black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. The background was a cubicle with the Southern Media Group logo. When reporter Wang saw the person on the screen, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

In his professional understanding, a student facing academic blacklisting and receiving an "ultimatum" from a renowned law professor, no matter how tough he is, should at least show a hint of exhaustion or anxiety on his face.

But in the picture, Zhao Shuyao is wearing the most ordinary gray sweatshirt, leaning against the back of a dormitory chair with some peeling paint, holding a water cup with the Northeastern University logo in his hand, and looking relaxed.

"Hello, Teacher Zhao." Reporter Wang pushed up his glasses and made a tentative joke, "I really didn't expect that Teacher Zhao would be much more handsome than he looks in the video."

Zhao Shuyao took a sip of water, a mocking smile playing on his lips: "I didn't expect that Wang, the reporter from the Southern Media Group who's best at digging deep, would look so young. I thought it would be an old-fashioned media person with a full beard interrogating me today."

After their first exchange, reporter Wang abandoned his initial casualness and realized that the young man opposite him was far more difficult to deal with than he had imagined.

"Teacher Zhao is joking." Reporter Wang leaned forward slightly and cut straight to the point, "Judging from your relaxed state, you seem completely unaffected by the Yan family's public statement that they are preparing to sue you?"

Zhao Shuyao put down his water glass, placed his hands folded on the computer desk, and looked at the camera: "Reporter Wang, your question is not rigorous enough. I didn't steal, I didn't rob, and I didn't fabricate historical materials. Since I haven't done anything wrong, why should I be affected?"

He tilted his head slightly, his tone tinged with humor: "If I had to pinpoint where I went wrong, it would be that I overlooked common sense about pathology when I was making my academic deductions."

"I did not assess Professor Yan's cardiovascular resilience at the age of eighty beforehand, nor did I consider that his threshold for bearing the truth was so low. Apart from that, I can't find any fault with myself."

Reporter Wang paused for a moment across the screen, then couldn't help but smile.

That was incredibly harsh. It used the most polite language to completely expose the other person's fragile ego and lack of academic rigor.

"Professor Zhao is indeed a humorous person." Reporter Wang looked back at the screen, her gaze sharpening, and raised the real obstacles. "But humor can't solve all problems. We understand that because of the continued escalation of this matter, your position as a faculty member has been revoked by the department. Don't you really regret your actions that day?"

This is the core issue: for a student from an ordinary family, an obstructed future is the biggest vulnerability.

Without even pausing to think, Zhao Shuyao leaned back in his chair and said, "No regrets."

He spread his hands, his tone calm: "As for whether this incident affected my decision to stay at the school, who can say for sure? Perhaps other students have performed better than me in private, and are better able to understand the leaders' intentions?"

Reporter Wang shook his head and opened his investigation notes: "Professor Zhao, you're downplaying the issue. We conducted a background check before the interview. Your grades, whether in your undergraduate or postgraduate studies over the past two years, have consistently ranked first in the History Department in terms of final exams and the number of professional papers published. Moreover, your advisors and classmates have always had very high opinions of you."

Staring at Zhao Shuyao on the screen: "For a liberal arts student, a university professorship is arguably the ultimate career path. Don't you feel any regret at missing this opportunity?"

"Why should it be a pity?" Zhao Shuyao asked in return.

"You're well aware of the current job market," Reporter Wang emphasized, trying to bring Zhao Shuyao back to reality. "Millions of people are scrambling to get stable jobs. You're about to graduate, carrying such a huge controversy. Wouldn't it be better to have a stable job?"

The voice just fell.

"puff--"

Zhao Shuyao couldn't hold back and chuckled softly. At first, it was just a slight curve at the corner of his mouth, then his shoulders trembled slightly, and finally he burst out laughing.

The laughter echoed in the quiet dormitory and traveled through the microphone to Guangzhou, thousands of kilometers away.

Reporter Wang frowned. He quickly reviewed his question in his mind but couldn't find anything funny.

"Ms. Zhao," reporter Wang said, her tone clearly questioning, "is this question so funny, or is it that your family is actually very well-off, so you simply don't care about this meager salary?"

Zhao Shuyao stopped laughing, but the smile in his eyes didn't fade. He straightened up, crossed his hands under his chin, and looked directly at reporter Wang, following the camera.

"Reporter Wang, my family is from a rural area in northern Jiangsu." Zhao Shuyao's voice became calm and deep. "My parents farmed all their lives to support my education. In many people's words, I am a true peasant from a humble background."

Reporter Wang remained silent, waiting for the next part to follow.

"I wasn't laughing at you just now," Zhao Shuyao said, looking at the screen. "Reporter Wang, I have a question for you. Do you think a person should endlessly compromise for a job? Or, should a person completely abandon their ideals and principles for a seemingly glamorous and stable job?"

Reporter Wang's lips moved; he wanted to say, "Isn't the adult world all about compromise?" but before he could finish speaking, Zhao Shuyao abruptly interrupted him.

"You don't need to answer, I know the answer." Zhao Shuyao extended a finger and gently tapped the table.

"In many people's eyes, I'm silly and naive. They think I'm too pretentious and too bookish." Zhao Shuyao's speech gradually slowed down, and he enunciated each word clearly.

"They would say, 'Why don't you, a poor kid from the countryside, just stay in school peacefully, get married and have children in the future? Why are you provoking those academic tyrants?'"

He pointed to the bookshelf behind him, which was piled high with yellowed historical documents.

"But Reporter Wang, are all those county gazetteers I consulted in the archives, every single word I uttered during that lecture, known only to me, Zhao Shuyao?"

Zhao Shuyao's eyes sharpened, revealing a barely suppressed glint of sarcasm: "There are so many experts and professors across the country specializing in Qing Dynasty history; they know a hundred times more than I do. Why don't they speak up?"

Reporter Wang's breathing involuntarily paused for a moment.

"Because they are all weighing the issues you just raised," Zhao Shuyao's voice was extremely penetrating through the microphone. "They are weighing whether speaking the truth will affect their professional title evaluation, whether they will lose the project funding they have. They are all choosing to keep quiet for the sake of their 'stable jobs'."

He spread his hands, his tone filled with an almost transparent sorrow: "If no one speaks up, someone has to step forward. If even those of us who have sat in classrooms and studied for more than ten years choose to turn a blind eye to those academic tyrants who package feudal dregs as national treasures to deceive people, all for the sake of our jobs..."

Zhao Shuyao paused, then said, slowly and deliberately, "After that, who will tell the truth to the people? Who will tell the truth about history?"

On the other end of the video, reporter Wang's hands stopped on the keyboard, and he didn't type a single word for a long time.

Quiet.

A full ten seconds of silence.

Reporter Wang felt a tingling electric current shoot up his back. As an investigative journalist, he had encountered too many politicians who talked about the big picture and interviewed countless slick and successful businessmen.

But he hadn't seen someone so pure, so sharp, and yet so straightforward in a long time.

If this passage is sent out verbatim, it will resonate with many people.

"Phew..." Reporter Wang let out a long breath, adjusted his posture, and spoke with genuine respect in his tone, "Teacher Zhao, I've learned a lot. I fully understand your attitude. What are your plans next regarding the Yan family's lawsuit?"

"Wait for the summons. I said, see you in court. I'll see you to the end." Zhao Shuyao picked up his water glass and resumed his lazy posture.