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

Zhao Shuyao held the microphone, his eyes fixed on the large screen behind the podium, his mind rapidly reviewing the deficit accounts left by the Qing Dynasty's River Conservancy Governor.

He was just about to change the subject to the bustling Jiangnan region when a piercing electrical roar suddenly rang out from the side of the lecture hall.

"Buzz—"

In the front aisle, the student council member in the black suit somehow got hold of a spare microphone. He turned the volume up to the maximum, and his normally handsome features were now slightly flushed with excitement and a certain eagerness to claim credit.

"Zhao Shuyao, can't you stop now!" The officer's voice, delivered through the speakers, carried a sense of heartbroken accusation, instantly drowning out the whispers that had just subsided.

Zhao Shuyao stopped and turned his head, shifting his gaze from the podium to the officer.

The other party is not jumping out to discuss history, but to show loyalty, or rather, to demonstrate their "ability to control the situation" in front of academic giants. It is pointless to get entangled with such a person about historical logic.

As expected, the secretary didn't say a word about the "marriage exchange" or "garden renovation" topics, but instead changed the subject entirely.

"Everyone, open your eyes and look! How old is Mr. Yan Chongnian? He's over eighty years old!" The staff member held up the microphone and waved his free hand vigorously in the air, trying to increase the impact.

"For him to come to Northeastern University today to give a free lecture and share his life's work of research is an extraordinary achievement and a tremendous gift to us younger generations!"

The officer took a breath, then abruptly turned his finger towards Zhao Shuyao: "But what about you? What's wrong with you? Don't you even know what basic respect is? Everyone else is humbly seeking guidance, but you're here repeatedly provoking a respectable elder!"

The atmosphere in the lecture hall subtly shifted following these definitive remarks.

"If everyone were like you, harboring a dark mentality to nitpick and embarrass renowned professors in public every time they give a lecture at our school, who would want to come to Northeastern University in the future?"

The officer spoke faster and faster, his tone rising, directly targeting every student present: "You, Zhao Shuyao, are a third-year graduate student, about to graduate. You can act like a hero and show off without a care in the world, but what about us?"

He turned around, facing the hundreds of young faces in the back row, and shouted, "Students, what he's doing is nitpicking! He's trying to prevent us from ever having the opportunity to communicate with top scholars from the outside world again!"

"He's cutting down all the big trees that provide shade for us, leaving us, and all the future students who will be admitted to this university, to be exposed to the scorching sun!"

"Everyone, judge for yourselves, isn't Zhao Shuyao's behavior incredibly selfish?"

These words were highly inflammatory, completely abandoning any discussion of right and wrong, and directly linking Zhao Shuyao's personal academic rebuttal to the future "resource acquisition" of all students in the school.

For students in the ivory tower, the false yet concrete threat of "losing lectures by renowned professors" is far more impactful than the historical truth from hundreds of years ago.

In the third row from the left, a freshman boy in sportswear immediately stood up. He was inexperienced and his face was filled with panic about losing his chance to study. He shouted out in response to the leader's words.

"Senior Zhao Shuyao, what exactly do you mean by this? You're about to graduate and your future is secured, but we haven't graduated yet! If you keep causing trouble like this today and drive Professor Yan away, what opportunities will we have to access the most cutting-edge knowledge in academia in the future?"

The boy pushed the table, his tone becoming self-righteous: "You want to be famous, you want attention, that's understandable, but you can't be this selfish!"

Zhao Shuyao watched this scene quietly, without immediately raising the microphone to refute it. This was exactly the resistance he had expected. When you try to expose the vested interests, the first to jump out and bite are often those who are kept at the bottom but think they can get a share of the pie.

But this doesn't mean everyone can be easily swayed.

Not far from the freshman boy, a girl with shoulder-length short hair stood up. She frowned as she looked at the aggressive member, then at Zhao Shuyao, her tone revealing a hint of helplessness and conciliatory tone.

"Dear seniors and juniors, I think we should all calm down first. Senior Zhao Shuyao, since you have a different opinion, we are of course willing to listen. But we are all cultured people who have received higher education. When discussing issues, we should at least consider the face of our elders and use a slightly gentler language, shouldn't we?"

The girl's voice was like a sponge being placed in a tense atmosphere.

Immediately afterwards, a boy wearing black-rimmed glasses stood up in the aisle on the right. He ignored the student council member's gaze, faced the podium directly, and spoke in a clear and firm voice.

"I don't quite agree with the way this student just labeled me. University is a place where ideas clash, and I think it's perfectly normal to have differing opinions."

"When we do academic research, we cannot blindly assume that someone's views are necessarily the truth just because they are older or have a higher status. Truth is discovered through debate, not through seniority."

The bespectacled boy turned to Zhao Shuyao and nodded slightly in acknowledgment: "Of course, I would also appreciate it if Senior Zhao Shuyao would be mindful of his manner of speaking, since everyone is listening attentively."

After hearing this, Zhao Shuyao finally smiled sincerely and nodded slightly to the bespectacled boy and the short-haired girl.

"Well said." Zhao Shuyao held the microphone, his tone relaxed and confident. "I will be careful with my wording. Thank you both very much for your objectivity and support."

After calming down the rational ones, Zhao Shuyao slowly turned around and turned his gaze back to the student council member who was still holding the spare microphone and whose face was a little stiff.

There was no anger in Zhao Shuyao's eyes, but rather a strong interest, as if he were looking at a comedian.

"This junior, or rather, this future student council leader," Zhao Shuyao brought the microphone close to his lips, his tone full of extreme irony and humor, "while I was sitting there listening to you speak, a question was actually swirling in my mind."

The clerk paused for a moment, then instinctively asked, "What question?"

"I just want to know, is your skill of labeling others anytime, anywhere a standard training program within your student council, or a talent you've developed on your own?" Zhao Shuyao chuckled.

A few muffled laughs erupted from the crowd, instantly shattering the solemn atmosphere that the organizers had created.

Zhao Shuyao didn't give the other party time to react, unleashing a barrage of logic like a series of powerful punches: "Professor Yan was on stage talking about how the Ming Dynasty emperors were eccentric, and I simply stood up to present a counter-argument based on archives and historical materials, offering alternative evidence. I didn't curse or flip the table, so how did I become 'repeatedly provoking' in your mouth?"

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly: "Because you're afraid of offending the experts, you keep quiet even when you discover errors, and force everyone to bow down and agree with you. Why do you like to make decisions for others so much? This is a very typical example of left-leaning ideology."

The clerk's face turned bright red, his mouth agape but unable to keep up with the barrage of questions.

"It's 2016 now, and this is the lecture hall at Northeastern University." Zhao Shuyao's voice was calm, yet every word carried a penetrating force. "What, do you still want to establish an ideological dictatorship here? You're even depriving students of their right to receive different information. Don't you think this act of silencing others is far more disgraceful than the 'disrespect' you speak of?"

The two paragraphs were concise and to the point, not only stripping away the "selfish" label that the secretary had put on him, but also directly turning the tables on him, nailing him firmly to the pillar of shame as an "accomplice to academic dictatorship."

The staff member stood in the aisle, unsure whether to hold the microphone or put it down, feeling extremely embarrassed and ashamed.

Having resolved this minor incident, Zhao Shuyao didn't bother to look at him again and turned around to face the extremely gloomy old face on the podium.

Zhao Shuyao's smile vanished instantly, replaced by a serious, scholarly demeanor: "Professor Yan, the little incident earlier wasted your time. So now, do you think I can still express my true views on the governing qualities of the Qing Dynasty emperors in this lecture hall?"

The ball was kicked back to Yan Chongnian.

Yan Chongnian placed his hands on the table with his arms crossed. If he nodded and said "no" at this moment, it would directly confirm Zhao Shuyao's "academic dictatorship" assertion. If he said "yes," it would mean that he would have to face the young man's barrage of questions head-on.

Dilemma.

Under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, Yan Chongnian took a deep breath, forcibly maintaining the composure and dignity of an academic giant, and nodded with a cold face and extremely perfunctory expression.

"This is an open lecture hall, and everyone has the right to express their own thoughts."

At this point, Yan Chongnian emphasized his words, conveying a condescending warning: "Even if your idea is utterly absurd and wrong, I will allow you to finish speaking."

"Thank you for your understanding." Zhao Shuyao nodded and gave a perfunctory thank you.

Holding the microphone, I slowly walked from the side of the podium to the center of the lecture hall, making sure I could look all the students in the front row at eye level.

"Alright, now that we've clarified the false connection between the construction of the Summer Palace in the north and the united front through the tradition of royal marriages, let's now head south along the economic lifeline that everyone cares about most."

Zhao Shuyao paused briefly before throwing out his next explosive bait: "Let's talk about Emperor Qianlong, who is hailed as a perfect sage ruler in countless TV dramas and made six trips to the south of the Yangtze River."

"Let's examine whether his grand scheme of building a palace and inspecting water conservancy in Jiangnan was a benevolent act of caring for the people of Jiangnan, or a path to the demise of the entire country that completely drained its last drop of lifeblood."