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

Dean Xu even reached for the notebook on the table and casually removed the cap from the ballpoint pen.

Director Wang picked up his teacup, using the act of blowing away the floating tea leaves to conceal a hint of wariness in his eyes. Deputy Director Sun, sitting at the far end, leaned his back completely against the sofa back, crossed his arms, and fixed his gaze firmly on Zhao Shuyao's face.

For these three seasoned university administrators, this kind of "exchange" scenario is all too familiar. A troublesome student with the backing of a national-level media outlet and millions of followers has finally relented and is about to make demands.

Is it a guaranteed admission to a doctoral program, a private office, or the authority to approve research grants?

Dean Xu held his pen tip over the lined paper in his notebook, ready to take notes.

Zhao Shuyao took in the subtle movements of the three people, leaned forward slightly, his smile unchanged, and spoke in a gentle yet penetrating voice: "Actually, this difficulty is something I observed on a whim while eating in the cafeteria these past two days."

Dean Xu's brow twitched almost imperceptibly, and his pen paused. The cafeteria?

"I feel like the egg drop soup that's provided free of charge in our second cafeteria has been getting thinner and thinner these past few days. I can barely see any egg drop soup after scooping it out for ages," Zhao Shuyao said sincerely, spreading his hands. "I wonder if the school could help resolve this?"

An eerily quiet silence descended upon the office.

A full five seconds passed.

"Pfft—" Director Wang nearly choked on the tea he had just drunk. He quickly put down his teacup, took out a tissue to wipe his mouth, pointed at Zhao Shuyao, and said with a mix of amusement and exasperation, "You little rascal, trying to be clever with us old men, huh?"

Dean Xu was also stunned. He looked at the carbon pen in his hand, shook his head helplessly, put the cap back on the pen and threw it on the coffee table. His tense nerves were instantly relieved by this harmless joke.

"Stop joking." Zhao Shuyao dropped his casual demeanor, sat up straight, and his eyes became extremely serious. "Director Wang, Dean Xu, I understand what you leaders mean, but I'm not here today to make any personal demands."

His tone was calm, without a trace of preaching, yet it exuded an undeniable firmness: "Director Sun just mentioned that interview with TV. Actually, what I said to Reporter Lin, about my hometown and my faith, was not a single word that was deliberately prepared to cater to the camera. Those were all my most genuine thoughts from the depths of my heart."

Zhao Shuyao placed his hands on his knees, his gaze frank: "My family is from a rural area in northern Jiangsu. Our conditions are indeed average, but that's compared to the city. Compared to the children in the mountains who have to cross mountains to go to school, my family's conditions are already quite good. At least I can sit comfortably in a classroom at Dongda University with a flat desk."

He paused, then looked at the three people opposite him: "Since I have my own hands and feet and the ability to earn money to support myself, I don't need the school to allocate its limited resources to me. Therefore, I personally have no difficulties."

These words were extremely insightful, rejecting privileges and directly severing the bonds of mutual benefit.

Dean Xu looked at the young man in front of him again, his eyes less scrutinizing and more genuinely surprised.

"However," Zhao Shuyao changed the subject, bringing up today's main topic, "if the school is really willing to listen to some of the students' suggestions, I do have an idea about a financial aid system for impoverished students in our college, or even the entire school."

"Subsidies for students from impoverished families?" Director Wang frowned slightly, leaning forward unconsciously. "This system has been running very stably in our school, with quota allocation, class evaluation, and counselor oversight. The funds allocated each year have been increasing. Shuyao, do you think there's anything wrong with it?"

This touches on specific administrative management, and Director Wang's tone carried a touch of official formality.

Zhao Shuyao did not immediately refute. He quickly recalled the most advanced algorithmic logic in the management of universities in the past and transformed it into a discourse system that could be accepted at the current time of 2016.

"Our existing system is indeed highly rigorous," Zhao Shuyao first affirmed the other party's work, then got to the core issue, "but this process has an unavoidable pain point—it relies too much on 'human intervention' and 'subjective will'."

Holding up one finger: "Director Wang, you may not be aware of the actual selection process at the grassroots level. When a poverty subsidy is allocated, what do the students in the class who need to apply do?"

"They have to write an application, then stand on the podium during a class meeting, and in front of dozens of classmates, tell everyone how miserable their family is, what illnesses their parents have, how much debt they owe, and finally let everyone raise their hands to vote."

Zhao Shuyao's gaze sharpened: "This kind of 'misery contest' certainly has strict vetting, but have you considered the psychological torment it inflicts on students around twenty years old who have extremely strong self-esteem but come from impoverished families?"

Director Wang fell silent, his hand, which had been holding a teacup, frozen in mid-air.

"Moreover, as long as you're human, you'll have emotional biases." Zhao Shuyao continued to increase his stakes. "Who the class monitor is close to, who the roommates are close to, will inevitably lead to a bias in the voting. The truly introverted, poor students who don't dare to go on stage to complain will not get that life-saving money."

"So what's your suggestion?" Dean Xu asked, his voice steady.

"Introducing big data," Zhao Shuyao uttered, a term that had just begun to gain popularity in the internet community in 2016. "I suggest that schools learn from Southeast University in Nanjing in the south; they don't conduct open selections."

Under the puzzled gazes of the three leaders, Zhao Shuyao explained the plan in a clear and logical manner: "The school's backend has access to all students' card spending records. There's no need for a big fuss; we just need to run a data model."

"Students who eat in the cafeteria more than 60 times a month, but spend no more than four yuan per meal; or students who only buy rice and the cheapest cabbage and potatoes each time they get food."

Zhao Shuyao tapped his finger lightly twice on the coffee table: "Screen out this list. No class review is needed, and they don't need to stand on the podium and read their applications with red faces. The school finance office will directly and quietly deposit the monthly subsidies into their student cards."

You could hear a pin drop in the office.

"It uses absolutely objective data to expose those who try to exploit loopholes, while also preserving the self-esteem of truly impoverished students to the greatest extent possible." Zhao Shuyao leaned back on the sofa, looking at the three leaders. "This subtle and pervasive influence, I believe, is the highest form of goodwill a university can show to its students. What do you all think?"

This logical chain is presented without a single empty word; it is all practical solutions that directly address the pain points.

The air remained silent for nearly ten seconds.

Dean Xu took a deep breath, turned to look at Deputy Director Sun beside him, and their eyes met, both seeing the barely suppressed shock in each other's eyes.

"Hahahaha—" Deputy Director Sun suddenly burst into hearty laughter, patted the armrest of the sofa, leaned forward, looked at Zhao Shuyao, and nodded repeatedly, "Good, what a subtle and effective approach!"

The leader representing the school office turned to the other two, his tone full of emotion: "Old Xu, Old Wang, when Shuyao came in just now, we were all calculating what resources we could use to appease this big shot, and look what happened?"

Deputy Director Sun pointed at Zhao Shuyao: "He's not thinking about his own little corner of the world at all. He's worried about those students who can't even afford a meat dish in the cafeteria. No wonder."

He paused, then his tone became serious: "No wonder he could say such grand words in an interview on the news channel, in front of a national audience. His words and actions are consistent; I am completely convinced."

"Yes." Dean Xu nodded in agreement, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out as he looked at Zhao Shuyao with the appreciation of an elder looking at a younger generation. "These past few days, the hospital has actually been under a lot of external pressure, after all, the storm you stirred up online was too big. But now it seems that it was us leaders who were worrying about gains and losses."

Dean Xu picked up his teacup, took a sip, and seemed to remember something. He sighed, "Actually, thinking about it now, it makes sense. I watched the interview, and you mentioned your father."

"An ordinary farmer with only a third-grade education can teach you to be grateful and to uphold your principles. It's no wonder that a father like that could raise such an outstanding son like you."

Dean Xu put down his teacup and said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Now I'm even thinking of finding some time to sit down and have a good chat with your father to learn some parenting tips."

"If everyone could think like Zhao Shuyao, focusing on solving real problems instead of getting involved in superficial social niceties, what would we have to worry about in our work?" Director Wang nodded in agreement, quickly writing down the words "Southeast University subsidy model" in his notebook.

The three of them were remarkably consistent in their attitude, giving it extremely high praise.

Zhao Shuyao maintained a polite smile, showing no arrogance despite the praise.

But his mind was as clear as a mirror.

His big data solution was indeed widely adopted and highly praised by universities in later generations, but in the Northeast today, especially in a university system with such a long history and extremely complex interpersonal relationships, the resistance would be unimaginable.

Once this algorithm is implemented, it will directly eliminate the power of counselors and departmental staff in "quota allocation". In the face of machines and data, there is no room for sentimentality. Touching interests is often more difficult than touching the soul.

These three leaders were genuinely moved at this moment, but when they brought the plan to the school committee for discussion, they would certainly face various excuses such as "conditions are not mature" and "technology cannot be implemented".

Rules can never be overturned immediately with just a few passionate words.

Seeing through it but not saying it, Zhao Shuyao didn't expose this hidden meaning. He only needed to plant the seed, and as for when it would sprout, that was a matter of time. His purpose in coming here today was simply to establish his independent stance that he would never be easily incorporated.

"Your suggestion will be immediately addressed by the school office and the academic affairs office, which will set up a research team to conduct a small-scale data analysis within our history department to get a preliminary understanding." Director Wang gave a concrete commitment to implementation, which was a great favor to Zhao Shuyao.

"Thank you for your help, Director Wang," Zhao Shuyao replied politely.

The atmosphere became completely harmonious. The initial tension and mutual probing were gone.

Dean Xu picked up the carbon pen again, twirled it nimbly between his fingers, and then fixed his gaze on Zhao Shuyao.

"Shuyao," Dean Xu adopted a completely relaxed posture, his tone becoming like an elder chatting casually, "Look, you turned down the offer to stay at the university, and you also turned down the resources the school offered you. You're a third-year graduate student now, and you'll be having your graduation defense in a few months."

Dean Xu's gaze sharpened, carrying an unspeakable probing: "You neither enter the system nor seek academic resources. With your current online popularity and traffic, it would be a waste of your talents to simply be a history blogger."

The office fell silent again, and even Director Wang and Director Sun stopped what they were doing and looked over at the same time.

"So," Dean Xu leaned forward slightly, throwing out the final probing question of the day, the most crucial hook, "After graduation, what exactly do you plan to do? Have you thought it through?"