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

Stepping out of the administration building, the March breeze brushed against my cheeks, carrying a lingering chill.

With his hands in the pockets of his sports jacket, Zhao Shuyao walked towards the dormitory building along the tree-lined path paved with red bricks. The bell for the end of get out of class had just rung, and the main road was bustling with people. Many students carrying books along the way slowed down and their eyes all fell on him.

There was no loud noise, nor any presumptuous attempt to disturb them; they simply looked at him, their eyes shining with an extremely pure light.

A boy wearing black-rimmed glasses stopped by the roadside, met Zhao Shuyao's gaze, and nodded vigorously.

Zhao Shuyao's lips curled up slightly as he returned a gentle nod. This was the source of his confidence in choosing this path. The people were now enlightened, and these peers knew their own scales better than anyone else.

As he climbed the steps of the dormitory building, he began to review the conversation he had just had in the office.

Revealing the tax secrets to Dean Xu and his team was meant to reassure the school and demonstrate their ability to cover losses. However, when it comes to truly overturning the table, one should never rely on others to issue orders.

Some actions, such as thoroughly investigating the specific business information flow of the tax haven Khorgos, must be carried out discreetly and privately. The procedures within the system are too long, and by the time they realize what's happening, it's too late.

Pushing open the slightly ajar dormitory door, roommate Yang Wei still hadn't returned.

Zhao Shuyao pulled out a chair and sat down. His hand had just touched the mouse, and before he could wake up the dormant computer screen, his phone, which was lying on the table, suddenly vibrated. The screen lit up, displaying a string of unsigned numbers.

It's the same person who sent the text message earlier.

Zhao Shuyao's gaze froze for a second as he stared at the string of numbers, his mind racing: The other party didn't send any more text messages but instead made a direct call. What did that mean? It meant that the previous rejection text message had completely disrupted their rhythm, and they were in a hurry.

Capital has no patience, especially when it discovers that its prey doesn't play by the rules.

He tapped his fingertips lightly on the table twice. Should he answer or not? Not answering would seem like avoiding a fight, while answering would mean entering a close-quarters battle.

He picked up the cup beside him, took a sip of water to moisten his throat, pressed the answer button, held the phone to his ear, and leaned back in his chair.

"Feed." Zhao Shuyao's voice was steady, without any inflection.

"Is this Mr. Zhao Shuyao?" A deep male voice came from the other end of the phone, speaking slowly and deliberately with a calm demeanor, against a quiet background.

"It's me." Zhao Shuyao didn't beat around the bush. "You're calling at this hour, so it seems you're not planning to invite me to dinner, or have you already decided when to come over?"

The other party was clearly not expected that Zhao Shuyao's opening remarks would be so direct and somewhat teasing, and there was a brief pause on the phone.

"Mr. Zhao is a straightforward person." The male voice quickly adjusted his tone and chuckled. "We've all seen what you've been up to online these past few days. We all make a living in this cultural circle. Some misunderstandings escalate online over screens, which doesn't really do any good."

As Zhao Shuyao listened to this standard public relations rhetoric, he twirled a pen on the table with his left hand: "I don't think there's any misunderstanding. History is there for all to see. Just look it up and you'll understand. If even this is considered a misunderstanding, then the threshold for this industry is indeed frighteningly low."

"It's a good thing for young people to have sharp edges." The other party ignored Zhao Shuyao's sarcasm, lowered his tone a bit, and revealed an unquestionable meaning. "It's like this, we will be in Fengtian the day after tomorrow. I wonder if Mr. Zhao could spare some time so we can find a relatively quiet place to sit down and have a good talk."

He emphasized the word "quiet," explaining, "After all, it's better for both of us to speak openly, isn't it?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Shuyao stopped twirling his pen, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

Looking for a quiet place?

His mind flashed through the rotten tricks of the entertainment industry over the past two years. He remembered how that popular male star surnamed Huang fell from grace in 2014, being completely taken care of in a "quiet place" in the film crew's hotel.

If capital wants to destroy someone they can't control, they can use a combination of tactics—setting traps, honey traps, and hidden cameras—which is virtually impossible to defend against in this era of emerging mobile internet.

Making private contacts with these people, even just stepping into a room they arranged, or having just a cup of tea, can be edited into explosive news like "Zhao Shuyao accepts hush money and settles privately."

"A quiet place?" Zhao Shuyao chuckled, the sound particularly jarring as it traveled through the radio waves. "We don't need a quiet place. We're discussing culture and history, not engaging in any shady power-money deals. What, do we have to draw the curtains just to have tea?"

The other party hesitated for a moment: "Mr. Zhao, I'm speaking out of consideration for your privacy."

"I'm a bit of a materialistic person, I just like lively places." Zhao Shuyao interrupted him directly and proposed his own plan, "Since you've come to Fengtian, as the host, I'll choose the place. It'll be the Starbucks opposite the main gate of our Dongda University."

Zhao Shuyao's logical chain was extremely tight. The main gate of Dongda University, the area with the highest traffic flow, was filled with students and teachers from the university every day.

That was his absolute home turf; any slight movement there would immediately ignite the campus forums. Trying to pull any tricks there was nothing but a pipe dream.

"Starbucks?" The male voice on the other end finally showed a hint of emotion. "That place is too noisy, too crowded, probably not suitable for discussing serious matters."

"We don't intend to discuss state secrets; more people is better." Zhao Shuyao toyed with his pen, casually turning the tables. "Discussing issues in the open is a basic quality of cultured people. I'll wait here; I wonder if you dare agree?"

The simplest tactic is often the most effective, especially when dealing with these self-important capitalists.

Sure enough, the other party was silent for a while on the other end of the phone. He needed to weigh his options. If he refused, he would miss the opportunity to get to know the situation offline. If he agreed, he would have to enter the game rules set by Zhao Shuyao.

"Of course." The other person suddenly laughed, but the laughter lacked some of the warmth from before. "Mr. Zhao's choice of location is indeed innovative. Since you insist, we'll go along with it."

"happy."

"Is 3 PM the day after tomorrow convenient for you?" the other party asked, offering a time.

Zhao Shuyao glanced at the calendar in the lower right corner of the computer screen: March 18th: "Awaiting your return anytime."

"Okay, see you the day after tomorrow."

The phone call ended, and the dial tone echoed in the dormitory.

Zhao Shuyao tossed his phone on the table, leaned back in his chair, and stretched. That's right. Only by bringing you into the public eye can we prevent you from revealing your dirty tricks.

He opened his computer's browser, preparing to search for some legal provisions about tax avoidance, when his phone screen lit up again.

The familiar, cheerful ringtone.

Caller ID: Gu Nanxi.

Zhao Shuyao picked up his phone and swiped to answer.

"What's wrong, fellow villager? Why are you calling me at this hour?" Zhao Shuyao's tone completely relaxed.

"What, can't I call you?" Gu Nanxi's clear voice came through the receiver, with a hint of teasing. "I was just worried that now that you're a big celebrity, too many people would be looking for you and you wouldn't be able to get an appointment. I thought you should have just finished your work and be a little free at this time."

"I'm never busy," Zhao Shuyao laughed. "Speak, what do you want? Don't tell me it's about those online arguments. If it is, then forget it. I'm tired of hearing about it."

"Who wants to talk to you about that?" Gu Nanxi scoffed on the phone. "Are you free the day after tomorrow?"

"The day after tomorrow?" Zhao Shuyao raised an eyebrow. The phone call just now scheduled for 3 PM the day after tomorrow.

"Leonardo DiCaprio's 'The Revenant' officially premieres in China the day after tomorrow, on the 18th." Gu Nanxi's tone was filled with anticipation. "I heard this is the film that won him the Oscar for Best Actor. I've seen the trailer, and the visual effects are absolutely stunning. I wonder if our busy blogger Zhao has time to go see it together?"

2016 3 Month 18 Day.

Zhao Shuyao quickly went through the timeline in his mind. This was indeed the phenomenal movie that had sparked a huge wave of discussion both at home and abroad.

On this day, not only will I have to watch a survival show in the wilderness, but I will also have to act out a "survival" drama with those capitalists in real life.

"I'm free." Zhao Shuyao glanced at the sunlight outside the window. "Let's set a time; the movie theater is close to the school."

"How about the 5 PM showing?" Gu Nanxi suggested. "It's at the MixC Cinema on Changbai Island. We can grab a bite to eat afterward."

Five o'clock in the afternoon.

Zhao Shuyao tapped his fingers twice on the table. At three o'clock, he would deal with the capital representatives at the main gate of Dongda University. Two hours would be just enough to take care of a few ignorant compradors and expose their bottom line.

"No problem," Zhao Shuyao agreed readily. "It's five o'clock this afternoon, but I have to meet someone at three. Would you like to come along?"

"No problem. I'd like to see who you're meeting, but I'll book the tickets first."

"no problem!"

The phone hangs up.

As Zhao Shuyao watched the phone screen slowly dim, the smile on his lips grew wider and wider.

The day after tomorrow, I'll play games at Starbucks at 3 PM and watch a movie at MixC at 5 PM. This arrangement, seamlessly transitioning from dealing with the hypocritical capital of the entertainment industry to appreciating the violent aesthetics of Hollywood, is almost as perfect as a symphony.

He gripped the mouse again, typed "Horgos Film and Television Shell Company Deregistration Process" into the search bar, and his eyes gradually sharpened.

[Thank you all for your continued support and updates. I will be adding extra chapters for the next three days. I promise I will keep my word. The chapters in the last few days may be a bit uneventful, but this is to lay the groundwork for deeper plot points and conflicts later on. I hope you can persevere; they will be revealed soon. Thank you again for your love!]