Things went very smoothly, with only minor ripples, though Zhou You couldn't help but notice that Huang Zhenkai had become quieter than usual. Zhou You had originally wanted to chat with Huang Zhenkai a bit longer. Who would have thought that Huang Zhenkai's final words would completely break Zhou You's composure?
"Teacher, actually, I don't want to join a company or a government unit. I've already found my path—I'm planning to sell houses when the time comes."
Zhou You was utterly floored.
He remembered two senior female students from his college days. After failing a course, they attended retake classes together. When they graduated as seniors, due to poor grades and other reasons, they couldn't find suitable jobs. After college, they ended up selling houses. And then they hit the biggest wave for ordinary people in the next decade or so: real estate.
Right after graduation, they still chatted often—after all, they were senior sisters. Back then, they advised Zhou You to buy a house as soon as possible, but he didn't take it seriously. Once, he even joked, "The housing prices now have peaked. Who among ordinary people can afford them? Where else can they rise? Might as well hit 10,000 per square meter, so everyone can't afford it—perfect."
Let's just say, different paths, no common ground. Their contact gradually dwindled.
But later, Zhou Yu often missed the days when housing prices were under 10,000. Through other channels, he learned that those senior sisters, thanks to their industry's convenience, had already bought five apartments. In terms of pure wealth, even the best-off classmates in their cohort didn't have that much net worth.
It's just fate playing tricks. An ordinary person, by entering the right industry, can turn their life around. Enter the wrong one, and they'll sink for a lifetime.
Now Huang Zhenkai was going to sell houses too. Could he really be a child of destiny? Somehow, he was stepping into the future's big trend.
After preparing his internship certificate, Zhou You sent him off. If his future was already set on the trend, what was there to persuade?
Although the fourth floor had an office prepared for all of them, they rarely came back—either constantly running around various swimming pools, training in kickboxing, or handling matters between the old and new venues. By default, the fourth floor was Zhou You's private office; they only came when he called them.
Looking at the young students below, Zhou You couldn't help but sigh: time is truly fair. It doesn't speed up because you're idle and unaccomplished, nor does it stop because you've achieved fame and success. In the blink of an eye, the college students of 2013 had arrived.
"Classmates, let me introduce myself..." The same opening lines, the same words, but spoken at a different age, the feeling was different. The students below, with equally youthful faces, heckled, "We know—you're Zhou You. The senior students have told us all about your deeds."
Zhou You was slightly surprised. Truly, each generation outdoes the last. Back in their day, even if they knew a lot, they wouldn't say it out loud. But he quickly let it go—these were all post-95s. The generation hailed as capable of changing society and shaking up the workplace, everyone had high hopes for them back then.
What a pity.
Every generation has its own struggles. Relying on the next generation is unrealistic.
Zhou You smiled. "Did your seniors tell you that I love taking attendance the most?"
The room burst into laughter.
"Teacher, we can take attendance ourselves."
"No need to trouble yourself—we've already arranged it."
"First the class officers, then boys and girls separately."
Zhou You's tricks had long been figured out and passed down as amusing anecdotes. But how could Zhou You let them take away his greatest joy in teaching? Everything needs to be updated!
He pulled out several A4 sheets from the podium. Based on the seating arrangement below, he made the first student in each row the "row leader," and each student signed their name on the paper. The students knew that Teacher Zhou had many ways to take attendance. This wasn't just variety—it was a deliberate effort to mess with them. No choice—they wrote one by one, then passed the papers from back to front. The row leaders then introduced each group member in turn, while Zhou You checked the names, thoroughly entertained.
The students cooperated well, all aware of Zhou You's legendary feats. They had many nicknames, all coined by seniors: "No-Fail Zhou," "Kickboxing King," "Rich Zhou," "Lu Thigh King," and many more—mostly good-natured.
For someone so wealthy to still come to class and set up scholarships for his major's students, he was the envy of students from other departments. It was a point of pride. In college, meeting a teacher like this was undeniably a stroke of luck. In their eyes, this was what a university teacher should be: knowledgeable enough to talk circles around anyone, physically strong enough to deter troublemakers, and wealthy enough to live a leisurely life. Zhou You fit it all. A university teacher should be like this—only such a person could nurture better students. They wished there were more like him.
Unfortunately, such teachers were rare, appearing only occasionally at top-tier universities. Without exaggeration, Lu University had just one. And now, he was on the verge of becoming the university's first teacher influencer.
After the attendance phase came the chat phase—the students' favorite part, and also Zhou You's favorite. Looking at those clear eyes below, he truly wished the world could always be this beautiful.
After the semester started, Zhou You made a special trip to Jiangcheng University. In the blink of an eye, he was in his second year of doctoral studies and needed to start preparing his dissertation. Originally, Shi Zhongshan had offered to find someone to ghostwrite it, but Zhou You decided to write it himself. He already had ideas, and since it was a humanities dissertation, it was easier to pad. Some directions and data could be outsourced with enough money.
Mainly, Zhou You genuinely wanted to write something, combining it with future events to make it substantive. But he hadn't fully settled on a direction yet. Going to Jiangcheng University was to discuss it with Professor Shi. Despite earning super VIP treatment on his own, Zhou You still had a heart for academia, even if he'd rarely attended formal classes. A humanities PhD doesn't require experiments, but making something novel is tough—some even find it harder to graduate than science students.
Zhou You didn't aim to write something as impactful as *Mid-Level Cadres* or as deeply introspective as *The Bookish Material*, which dissected countless rural-origin scholars with razor-sharp insight. *Mid-Level Cadres* aside—those who can read it, should; it's all honest truths, unspeakable here. Better to talk about *The Bookish Material*.
Zhou You planned to observe his class to see if his students fit its characteristics. Rural college students typically: are mostly "well-behaved," which integrates them into the family community but also confines their family roles and limits emotional expression. Their every move lacks a certain ease, often appearing nervous, tense, and at a loss. Through clothing, skin tone, and break-time chats, Zhou You could basically identify the rural students. They pretended to be mature and natural, unaware that it was all visible to outsiders, coming off as rigid and dogmatic.
Actually, Zhou You didn't need to look at others—he could look at himself. Wasn't he the same? He could reject others' affections, all because of inner inferiority. But for someone like Zhou You, self-respect was his only anchor.