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

The phone screen emitted a cold light.

Zhao Shuyao's gaze fell on the last half of the text message: "The time and place are up to you."

He tapped his fingers lightly on the table twice, then stopped.

The more polite and eager the other party was, the more it proved that the CCTV interview had truly hit their nail on the head. Entertainment industry capital has always prioritized traffic, and once someone blocks the path to wealth for the entire profit chain, the usual tactic is to directly use online trolls and media to strangle them.

Now they've taken the initiative to suggest meeting in person.

This means that online methods have become completely ineffective, and the official media's stance has deterred them from taking any rash actions in the public sphere, leaving them with no choice but to resort to private maneuvering.

"You really think Fengtian is your backyard?" Zhao Shuyao's lips curled into a mocking smile.

Ignoring it would make me seem guilty, but offering a lengthy rebuttal would reveal my hand.

With his fingers hovering over the virtual keyboard, he typed a few words: "I've been very busy with my studies these past few days and haven't had any free time. If you are truly interested in cultural exchange, you are welcome to come to Tokyo University. I'll treat you all to fried noodles in the cafeteria."

Click send.

Leaving no room for maneuver, offering no choice, and forcefully seizing control in my own hands: since you want to get involved, then come to my home turf.

After sending the text message, Zhao Shuyao put his phone in his pocket, straightened his collar, and turned to open the dormitory door.

In early March, the wind in Fengtian still carried a hint of chill.

Zhao Shuyao walked down the steps of the dormitory building, where the trees on both sides of the main road had just sprouted a few green buds.

The school bell had just rung, and the tree-lined path was full of students carrying their books.

Zhao Shuyao maintained his usual pace, his hands casually in his coat pockets. Soon, he noticed the subtle change in the atmosphere around him.

In the past, when he walked on campus, he was just an ordinary third-year graduate student. Occasionally, a few people would recognize him, mostly because of his reputation as a "troublemaker" who had recently clashed with the academic clique, and their eyes would be filled with curiosity as they watched the spectacle.

But things are different now.

A group of second-year male students walking towards him slowed down when they were about five or six steps away from him. They stopped talking and their eyes all fell on Zhao Shuyao.

It wasn't a scrutiny, nor did it try to dodge.

The boy in the lead, who wore glasses, moved his lips and gripped his textbook tightly with his fingers at his side. Just as they were about to pass each other, he stopped and straightened up slightly.

"Hello, Senior Zhao." The voice wasn't loud, but the words were clearly enunciated.

Zhao Shuyao paused, turned around, and looked at the boy's eyes, which held undisguised recognition and enthusiasm—a pure gaze that came from seeing a fellow traveler and the embodiment of an ideal.

They all watched the interview. In 2016, when most people were anxious about GPA, postgraduate entrance exams, and job hunting, suddenly a peer stood on a national-level platform, looked at those lofty authorities on equal terms, and spoke confidently about "faith" and "great unity."

These few words directly pierced through the last layer of idealism hidden by reality in the hearts of contemporary college students.

Zhao Shuyao withdrew his right hand and nodded to them: "Good morning, off to class?"

"Just finished class, going to the library," the boy replied, his voice trembling with suppressed excitement.

"You have to grab a seat early." Zhao Shuyao smiled and started walking again.

As he walked toward the office, similar scenes unfolded repeatedly. Some girls would cover their mouths and tug at their companions' clothes as they watched him from afar, while some boys would give him a nod as they passed by.

No one came up to ask for a photo, and no one took out their phone to take pictures.

This group of young people living in an ivory tower are expressing their absolute support for a certain position in a restrained way unique to cultural figures.

Looking at the red brick wall of the administration building at the end of the road, Zhao Shuyao sighed inwardly. These people were not worldly at all. As long as you gave them a clear historical coordinate, the fire in their hearts could be easily ignited.

We went up to the third floor of the administration building.

The leather shoes made a soft thud on the floor, and the window at the end of the corridor was open.

Counselor Zhang was standing outside the dean's office, head down, hands behind his back, pacing back and forth, his leather shoes making a very regular rhythm on the same tile.

Hearing footsteps, Director Zhang suddenly looked up.

"Oh my goodness!" Director Zhang hurried over, his brows furrowed in a deep frown, his gaze sweeping over Zhao Shuyao. "Why did you take so long?"

Zhao Shuyao stopped, looked at the fine sweat on Director Zhang's forehead, and said in a relaxed tone, "Director Zhang, your WeChat step count will definitely be number one in the hospital today."

"At a time like this, you still have the mind to joke around." Director Zhang lowered his voice, glanced around, and pointed to the tightly closed solid wood door. "The leaders inside have been waiting for you for almost twenty minutes."

"I ran into a few junior students on the way and they greeted me, which delayed me for two minutes," Zhao Shuyao explained.

"Alright, stop explaining." Director Zhang reached out and tugged at Zhao Shuyao's arm. "I'll give you a heads-up, don't be nervous, it's good news, a really good thing."

Zhao Shuyao raised an eyebrow and continued, "Great news! The school is planning to give out a scholarship to monetize my online presence?"

Director Zhang was taken aback by those words and rolled his eyes: "Stop trying to provoke me. If the school really gave out money, would you accept it with your temper? If you were the kind of person who would bow down for money, you wouldn't have turned down that tenure offer in front of several school leaders last time."

Zhao Shuyao nodded, his joking expression fading, and answered with utmost seriousness, "Of course I can't accept that. If I take the money, I'll be beholden to it. The boss called me in today; it's about the TV interview, right?"

Director Zhang looked into Zhao Shuyao's clear eyes and couldn't help but feel a tremor in his heart.

Most students who appear on national television would become incredibly arrogant upon returning to school, but Zhao Shuyao not only remained humble, but he also thoroughly investigated the school's internal affairs on his way there.

That interview had a huge impact. Previously, the school avoided Zhao Shuyao like the plague, fearing that his outspokenness would cause trouble and implicate the school. Now, the authorities have personally stepped in to set the tone, shaping Zhao Shuyao into a role model for young people in the new era to establish a correct historical perspective.

What was once a hot potato has overnight transformed into a highly prestigious brand. If the university doesn't quickly hold onto this brand, and it gets poached by other institutions or private entities, the university's administration will definitely be in trouble with its superiors.

"It's good that you know." Director Zhang softened his tone and reached out to straighten Zhao Shuyao's collar. "Once you're inside, no matter what conditions the leaders set, listen more and talk less. Go now."

Zhao Shuyao walked to the door, curled his fingers, and knocked twice.

"Come in," a deep voice came from inside.

Push the door open and enter.

The dean's office was very spacious. Three people were sitting on a mahogany sofa.

Dean Xu sat in the main seat, next to Director Wang of the Academic Affairs Office. On the outermost single sofa sat a middle-aged man in a dark blue jacket, who was Deputy Director Sun of the School Office.

This lineup is usually only assembled when selecting outstanding provincial-level disciplines.

Director Zhang followed Zhao Shuyao into the room, but didn't dare to go any further. He stopped at the door and said, "Dean Xu, Zhao Shuyao has arrived."

"Little Zhao is here, come on, come sit down." Dean Xu immediately put down his teacup, pointed to the empty sofa opposite him, and his face was full of smiles.

Seeing this, Director Zhang wisely took a step back and closed the door.

Zhao Shuyao walked to the sofa, but did not sit down immediately. Instead, he bowed slightly to the three leaders and said, "Good morning, Dean, Director Wang, Director Sun."

Calm and composed, impeccably polite, without a single flaw.

"Sit down and let's talk. There are no outsiders here today," Deputy Director Sun beckoned.

Zhao Shuyao sat down, his back straight, his hands naturally placed on his knees.

The office was silent for about three seconds.

Director Wang was the first to break the silence, leaning forward with a gentle smile on his face, like an elder showing concern for a younger person.

"Shuyao," Director Wang began, speaking at a measured pace, "We all watched the entire interview on the news channel at home. What did you think? Did you feel a lot of pressure facing those kinds of cameras?"

Zhao Shuyao met the other person's gaze without flinching.

Leaders' opening remarks all follow a set pattern: they start by making small talk to lower the guard.

"There is definitely pressure." Zhao Shuyao's tone was calm, even with a touch of just the right amount of nervousness. "After all, it was my first time facing a national audience, and Reporter Lin's questions were very sharp. I was thinking at the time, I must not say the wrong thing, otherwise if I ruin the reputation of our Dongda University, my graduation defense will probably be in jeopardy."

Upon hearing this, the three people on the sofa were all stunned for a moment.

Then, Dean Xu pointed at Zhao Shuyao and burst into laughter.

"You young comrade, you always speak the truth." Dean Xu leaned back on the sofa and patted the armrest. "You not only didn't ruin our reputation, but you actually made our school look good! This morning, the school leaders called to highly praise your ideological awareness."

"Yes," Deputy Director Sun chimed in, "Society is currently lacking young people like you who dare to speak the truth and have theoretical support. The views you mentioned in the interview regarding cultural confidence and bottom-line thinking are very insightful."

That concludes the setup.

Director Wang coughed, sat up straight, and stared intently at Zhao Shuyao.

"Shuyao." Director Wang's tone became serious, revealing an uncompromising solemnity, "Now that you are a public figure, have you encountered any specific difficulties in your life or studies? If so, please don't keep it to yourself, just bring it up directly, and all departments of the school will fully cooperate to help you solve it as soon as possible."

Zhao Shuyao looked into Director Wang's eyes.

Here comes the point.

This may seem like a show of concern, but it's actually a disguised form of co-optation. As long as he asks for the school's resources now, whether it's a private study room, special care from a tutor, or any other privileges, a bond of mutual interest will be formed between the two parties.

Once the account is linked, every time he speaks out or makes a video, it will need to be evaluated by this office.

Zhao Shuyao quickly went through the pros and cons in his mind. He lightly rubbed his fingers against his knee.

"Director Wang," Zhao Shuyao looked directly at him, his face once again displaying that deceptively gentle smile, "there is indeed a difficulty."

The three leaders immediately sat up straight. Dean Xu even reached for the notebook on the table.