The moment Zhang Qiyan stepped onto the podium, he brought out the confidence he had built over decades of teaching, letting all the talented people in the classroom experience what "professionalism" truly meant.
Combined with the D School teacher's earlier introduction of Zhang Qiyan's long list of titles, everyone was thoroughly awed. People in their thirties and forties summoned the attitude of fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds.
They concentrated wholeheartedly, studied diligently, improved every day, and waited for the teacher's praise.
But Zhang Qiyan's praise was no little red flower.
He was a member of a national think tank. If he praised someone before the big shots, it would be like their words reaching the Emperor's ears directly.
So at that moment, perhaps Li Ye was the only one in the entire advanced training class who remained calm and natural.
When he had delivered New Year's gifts to his teacher's home before the Spring Festival, Li Ye had nearly drunk Zhang Qiyan under the table.
Once drunk, Zhang Qiyan was just a little old man who talked about everything from family matters to neighborhood gossip. Li Ye had already shed all his illusions about him—completely shed them.
Yet just as Li Ye was listening to the lecture calmly, Zhang Qiyan hauled him to his feet and told him to answer a question.
"Li Ye, explain this case. Why did it fail in the mainland?"
Li Ye blinked rapidly, dearly wishing he could exchange meaningful looks with Professor Zhang and persuade him not to torment his student like this.
Because the case Zhang Qiyan had brought up was, to a certain extent, a forbidden topic for discussion. Its failure had not been caused solely by objective factors; there had also been human interference.
But Zhang Qiyan questioned him without mercy. "What? You