The one who stood up and started the argument was Yan Fang, the head of the senior year Chinese language group.

This old lady is a legend at Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School, not only for her strictness.

The ruler in his hand has struck countless palms.

Just yesterday evening during self-study, she confiscated three printed copies of "The Ferryman" from the classroom.

He even gave a severe scolding to several top students who were engrossed in reading.

They were criticized for having their brains corrupted by "internet garbage".

Just before entering, she was still giving the students some advice.

Let everyone learn from geniuses like Ye Xi who have received formal and elegant artistic training.

The result was quite the opposite; the role model she had elevated to such a high status...

She actually quoted lines from that book in public, which she considered "taboo."

They even regard it as a belief.

In her view, this was not merely a slip of the tongue by Ye Xi.

It is not only a blatant desecration of the word "art," but also a devastating misguidance of the hundreds of students in the audience.

She couldn't stand it.

Decades of teaching experience instilled in her an almost obsessive sense of responsibility.

Even if the leaders of the Education Department were sitting in the audience, she would still stop this unhealthy trend.

"Ye Xi!"

Yan Fang pushed up her thick-rimmed glasses, her expression revealing a heartbroken disappointment.

"I've read that online novel you mentioned. What's it about?"

That's about dead people, about ghosts!

It's filled with horror, gore, and feudal superstition!

As an internationally renowned young artist, you represent the face of the province.

Yet, in such a solemn occasion, he treated lines from a low-brow online novel as life motto.

Do you think it lives up to the title of 'artistic exchange'?

The entire conference center was deathly silent.

The students, who were just moments before bursting with enthusiasm, were instantly frozen in place.

Yan Fang's power was deeply ingrained; it was a conditioned reflex etched into her very bones.

On stage, Ye Xi unconsciously gripped the microphone tightly.

She's not someone who hasn't seen big scenes before.

The spotlights in Vienna are much more dazzling than this.

In a debate, she can cite numerous sources to leave her opponents speechless.

Faced with this elder's condescending accusations,

She wanted to argue that it was literature, not superstition!

But she held back.

She was a guest, and the other party was an elder, a teacher from the host venue.

That rebuttal rolled around in my throat a few times.

Ultimately, his good upbringing forced him to swallow his anger.

Her eyes were slightly red.

But she stubbornly bit her lower lip, standing there without saying a word.

Jiang Changfeng, who was sitting in the first row, instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

"Teacher Yan!"

Jiang Changfeng suddenly stood up, trying to smooth things over.

"Academic viewpoints can be discussed later; now, let's..."

"Um... excuse me."

A lazy voice suddenly broke in.

Everyone instinctively turned their heads.

"Minister Zheng, this..."

Jiang Changfeng looked embarrassed.

He wanted to explain to Zheng Songxue, but she interrupted him by raising her hand.

In the shadows on the side of the stage,

A boy wearing a red volunteer vest walked out.

He held an unopened bottle of mineral water in his hand, walking at a leisurely pace.

They completely ignored the tense atmosphere on the scene.

Lin Que walked straight to the center of the stage and handed the bottle of water to Ye Xi.

"Student Ye, you've been talking for so long, your throat must be dry, right? Have some water to moisten it."

Ye Xi was stunned, staring at the guy who had suddenly appeared in front of her.

His red volunteer vest, worn over his hoodie, looked somewhat out of place.

But those eyes held a smile, like a deep pool.

He steadily caught all her grievances and embarrassment.

"Forest……"

Ye Xi subconsciously wanted to call out a name.

Lin Que nodded slightly, using the gesture of handing over water as an excuse.

He patted her shoulder very lightly twice.

The pressure was very light, yet it carried a strange sense of comfort.

"It's okay, take a rest."

After Lin Que finished speaking in a low voice, he turned around and found that a microphone had appeared in his hand.

He faced the aggressive Yan Fang in the audience.

He had that unique smile on his face that made it impossible for anyone to hate him.

Yan Fang certainly knew Lin Que.

He was a prominent figure at Jiangcheng No. 1 High School.

Whether it's the top prize in the essay competition a while ago, or the literary forum that caused such a stir a few days ago,

This name appears more frequently in the teachers' office than the head of the teaching department.

"Lin Que?"

Yan Fang frowned even more deeply.

"You're a volunteer, so focus on your service. This isn't your business, so don't meddle!"

"Teacher, that's not right of you."

Lin Que had one hand in his pocket and the other holding a microphone, speaking in a relaxed tone as if he were chatting casually.

"I am a volunteer, and my job is to serve the guests."

Ye Xi was a guest, and before she could even finish speaking, you were already quick to label and criticize her.

"Isn't this in line with our school's hospitality?"

"What criticism! I was talking to her about the seriousness of literature!"

Yan Fang refused to budge an inch and said sternly.

"It is a fact that online novels are poisoning teenagers!"

Lin Que, you are talented, you should have even better discernment.

You said, the protagonist in that book points a gun at a ghost, isn't that promoting violence?

Is it superstition that ghosts who die and linger in the human world are superstitious?

What value does this thing have other than creating anxiety and fear?

The students below the stage looked at each other, many of them holding their breath for Lin Que.

Debating with Yan Fang is basically suicide.

Lin Que did not rush to reply.

Instead, he first bowed slightly to Yan Fang, his manners so impeccable that no one could find fault with him.

"Teacher Yan, you are an elder and an authority in the Chinese language group."

Your concern for students going astray, and your protective instincts, are evident to everyone.

“But if you insist on labeling it as feudal superstition, then I have to have a word with you about it.”

Lin Que's eyes sharpened.

"You said that book is about ghosts."