Nobody said that teachers at elite academies have to be heartthrobs.

"What a joke!"

A boy by the window slammed his fist on the table leg; his name tag clearly showed an A.

His voice was so loud the whole class could hear him: "In this school where what I am is more important than how many points I get on a test, you're talking to me about fairness? That's hilarious! Why don't you go to the zoo and teach the tigers to eat vegetables?"

These words were like water poured into a hot oil pan, instantly causing an uproar. The classroom buzzed with discussion, and several students from well-off families in the back row joined in the laughter, their eyes filled with disdain.

Almost simultaneously, the college's anonymous forum exploded.

The homepage instantly turned red!

[HOT! Top student forces school board chairman's son to issue public apology! Has the world gone mad?]

[In-depth investigation! Who exactly is this Lin Xun?]

[A rational discussion: Do elite academies really need fairness?]

The post's popularity skyrocketed, with replies exceeding a thousand in the blink of an eye.

Several accounts that were the most vocal in their insults and directly named names were quickly banned, displaying a "permanent ban".

The administrator's incredibly fast typing speed ironically fueled the proliferation of conspiracy theory posts.

The discussions in the classroom were divided into three levels.

The people in the front row, who came from prominent families, didn't look too happy.

Someone scoffed, "They're letting just any Tom, Dick, or Harry jump around like this."

They felt their innate sense of superiority had been challenged, and even just a little dust on their skin was enough to make them unhappy.

Those in the middle, whose financial situation wasn't particularly good, mostly acted as if it were none of their business, scrolling through the forums like spectators, occasionally offering a dismissive comment: "So much drama."

In the back row, in those poorly lit corners, some heads that had been hanging down slowly raised a little.

Those students who always wore old-fashioned uniforms with "C" printed on their name tags, those outstanding students who were always left out during group assignments and ate alone in the cafeteria, seemed to breathe a little lighter.

Some students stared intently at the screen of an old cell phone under their desks, repeatedly opening the post containing the broadcast recording, while others discussed it in a secret group chat.

A tiny spark was unexpectedly ignited by the apology broadcast that resounded throughout the entire school.

It burned my heart and made me extremely panicked.

……

Meanwhile, as more details were revealed, Yu Fuli, who argued her case rationally, also came into the public eye through the discussion.

He was walking through the connecting corridor of the teaching building, the sunlight a little dazzling. He could clearly feel the gazes coming from all directions—inquisitive, hostile, curious, and a few very light ones, yet warm.

He didn't stop or look back.

Only the corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards.

This is where and where.

Good show, the gong has just been sounded.

Just as the forum was buzzing with excitement and the corridors between classes were filled with hushed discussions, a notice titled "Seeking Opinions on the Establishment of the First Student Representative Committee (Trial Implementation)," officially released by the college's Academic Affairs Office and stamped with an electronic seal, quietly appeared at the top of the college's intranet bulletin board.

The college had student councils before, but those were mostly student-initiated.

Everyone initially thought it was just an ordinary student council, but after reading the announcement, they realized it was not so simple.

The notice was carefully worded, filled with phrases such as "promoting students' self-governance capabilities," "building a harmonious communication mechanism," "strictly preventing school bullying," and "maintaining campus stability," but its core meaning was clear: the college is seriously considering establishing a formal student organization with some deliberative and supervisory functions to focus on dealing with issues such as school bullying.

A stone stirred up a thousand waves.

The forum, which had just cooled down a bit, was reignited.

[Breaking News! Is the college really going to establish a student union?! Is it a compromise or just a tactic?]

[Insider information suggests that a certain new teacher strongly pushed for this...]

[I bet 50,000 that the final executive committee will be entirely composed of A-level big shots, with C-level just there to make up the numbers.]

In the classroom, the A-grade boy who had kicked the desk had a face so dark it could drip water. He stared at the notification on his phone screen and squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: "...Someone actually dared to pass on a message, and someone actually dared to approve it."

A commotion arose among his inner circle, with someone asking uneasily, "Jerry's family just had a run of bad luck, could this be aimed at us...?"

They've seen all the announcements. If it really works out, they'll be the first ones to come to us!

"What's the panic!" the A-grade boy interrupted him, his eyes sinister. "Even if you do it, how are the rules set? How are the people chosen? Who has the final say? Do you think issuing a notice will change everything? How naive!"

His deliberately raised voice echoed in the classroom, carrying an unquestionable arrogance, attempting to suppress the quiet restlessness growing in certain corners.

Meanwhile, in the back row, the C-level students were having a constant discussion in their secret communication group.

The notice repeatedly highlighted phrases such as "fair election" and "broad representation" for discussion.

Is it true?

"Could this be a pretext to appease us?"

"I don't know... but since we've received a notification, is it possible... to try and get one?"

"How can we win them over? We can't even put forward any candidates, can we?"

"That Lin Xun..."

"And...Teacher Yu."

The name was mentioned cautiously.

The young teacher who stood in front of Lin Xun during the conflict, with clear logic and a calm attitude, and who was even said to have promoted the establishment of the student council, has unknowingly become a vague symbol in the hearts of many silent people.

Yu Fuli closed his lesson plan, ending today's class. He could sense that the gazes from the audience were more complex than ever before.

Curiosity, scrutiny, anticipation, resistance, and cold calculation... all intertwine to form an invisible net.

He calmly announced the end of get out of class and steadily left the classroom under the hesitant gazes of several students.

Just as they reached the relatively quiet corner of the stairs, a figure hurriedly followed them up—it was Lin Xun.

A rare hesitation and confusion crossed the boy's clear eyes as he whispered, "Thank you, Ms. Yu. But, about the student council..." He paused, seemingly unsure how to express his heavy unease, "The tree may wish to remain still, but the wind will not cease. This could cause you a lot of trouble."

Yu Fuli stopped and turned to look at him, her voice gentle.

"Lin Xun," he began, "sometimes, trouble isn't something you can avoid just because you want to." His gaze seemed to pierce through the boy before him, looking into something deeper. "Some voices need channels to be heard, and some orders need to be tested for resilience in the face of challenges. The Student Council," he gently pushed up his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses profound, "no matter what its final form may be, it's at least a beginning, a beginning to bring the issues to the forefront and discuss them using rules rather than purely strength."

Lin Xun stopped in his tracks, his fingertips curling slightly.

Just as Yu Fuli was about to turn and leave, the boy seemed unable to suppress the surging emotions in his heart. He suddenly took a step forward and reached out to tightly hug his teacher's waist.

His movements were somewhat hasty, even reckless, as he buried his burning cheek deep into the clean front of his shirt.

"But... teacher..." His voice was muffled by the fabric of his clothes, revealing a slight tremor, a crack that had finally broken through his efforts to maintain composure. "You will become a target. You will become a thorn in the side of many people, a thorn in their flesh."

He took a breath, and the arms around Yu Fuli's waist unconsciously tightened, as if this could keep away all the approaching malice.

"I...I don't want to see you get hurt."