Chapter 22: Fearless Because of Contentment

Chapter Twenty-Two: Because I Am Content, I Am Without Fear

“Grandpa, who is Tang Zhong?” Jiao Nanxin asked curiously.

“He’s the student I accepted today,” Jiao Yuheng answered with a smile.

“Oh, he answered your question?” Jiao Nanxin’s eyes sparkled. “That means he must be pretty impressive. Looks like there’s going to be another Wang Jikui.”

Jiao Yuheng waved his hand and said, “Why don’t you meet him as well? After all, you’ll soon be classmates.”

“I’d better avoid that. Who knows, maybe he’s here to express his gratitude. Wouldn’t it be awkward for me to sit here?” With one hand, Jiao Nanxin grabbed the large bag slung over her back. “I’ll just go wash my face in the inner room.”

The dean’s office was spacious, divided into a study, a reception room, and a small lounge. The lounge was set aside for the leadership to rest at noon or to sleep during night shifts.

Click—

As Jiao Nanxin closed the door to the lounge behind her, Tang Zhong entered the office under Zhu Li’s guidance.

Zhu Li exited and closed the door, leaving Tang Zhong alone with Jiao Yuheng.

Jiao Yuheng returned to the chair behind his large desk, his gaze sharp as he sized up Tang Zhong, who stood before him.

Once again, Tang Zhong bowed his head.

“Tang Zhong,” Jiao Yuheng called. “What brings you here?”

“Dean,” Tang Zhong finally raised his head, bowed ninety degrees, and said, “Thank you for accepting me as your student. I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

“Oh?” Jiao Yuheng frowned, scrutinizing him. “If you won’t disappoint me, that must mean I have hopes for you—what exactly are my hopes for you?”

Tang Zhong’s face turned almost green.

He hadn’t expected his polite, formulaic words to be taken so seriously. What hope? How could he possibly know what the old man hoped for?

If he answered, “You hope I become a talent useful to the nation,” would the old man sneer at him?

“Tang Zhong, don’t speak empty words in front of me,” Jiao Yuheng said sternly.

“Yes, Dean,” Tang Zhong replied. The old man had an air of authority, something reminiscent of the family patriarch.

“Alright then. Speak. Why are you here?” Jiao Yuheng asked.

Tang Zhong, having considered his words on the way over, was prepared and not worried about being tongue-tied.

He looked up at Jiao Yuheng and said, “Dean, here’s the situation. Tonight, I went to dinner with three of my roommates. One of them got us a table, but then a group of upperclassmen tried to take it from us and one of them kicked my roommate to the ground. A dispute broke out and, in the chaos, my roommate accidentally struck a teacher on the head with a bottle.”

He recounted the events simply, without embellishment. There had been many witnesses; the school would soon investigate and find out the truth. Lying now would only make Jiao Yuheng look down on him.

Jiao Yuheng’s thick eyebrows furrowed.

It wasn’t the student brawl that troubled him. Fights between freshmen and seniors were common at the start of term and during graduation season. Young people were impulsive and passionate; if they didn’t do something rebellious, how else could they vent their excess energy?

As dean, he’d long grown used to such incidents.

What troubled him was Tang Zhong’s approach.

He had just accepted Tang Zhong as his student that day, and here the boy was, seeking his help—did he think being the dean’s student made him superior?

If so, Jiao Yuheng would be deeply disappointed. As a devoted educator, he hated to lose a promising student.

Sharp perception and a deep empathy even for trivial matters were essential qualities for a master of psychology. Tang Zhong had stood out among more than a hundred candidates; that alone proved his abilities.

Yet this mindset was not to Jiao Yuheng’s liking.

Jiao Yuheng fixed Tang Zhong with a burning gaze.

This time, Tang Zhong did not look away—he was resolute, steadfast, gentle.

“This should be handled by your counselor, Li Qiang,” Jiao Yuheng said.

“I understand. But since a teacher was injured, I’m worried Mr. Li Qiang might face obstacles,” Tang Zhong replied honestly.

“You don’t trust Mr. Li Qiang’s competence?”

“No. I just don’t trust the constraints beyond his ability. Anyone able to contract the campus cafeteria is not someone Mr. Li Qiang can ignore,” Tang Zhong said.

Jiao Yuheng’s eyes lit up.

Indeed, Zhang Haiyang, who operated the cafeteria and campus store, was the nephew of Vice President Zhang. If Zhang Haiyang was injured by students and humiliated, he’d certainly be furious. In that case, how could Li Qiang dare challenge him?

If Li Qiang couldn’t hold the line, Zhang Haiyang would surely make an example of the student involved.

This boy was sharp; he’d seen the heart of the matter at once.

“Do you realize your actions might make me think ill of you?” Jiao Yuheng said, face stern. “I might see you as arrogant, relying on my favor, and even reject you, a student I just accepted without knowing or caring about you.”

“I understand,” Tang Zhong nodded. “I was prepared for that before I came.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“I’m not,” Tang Zhong replied.

“Why? Is being my student so trivial to you?” Jiao Yuheng was genuinely provoked by this answer.

How many people in the field of psychology dreamed of being his student? How many tried every year to become his research student? To become his student meant never having to worry about the future.

And yet, this boy said he wasn’t afraid.

Jiao Yuheng felt slighted, his pride wounded.

“Dean, I am not afraid,” Tang Zhong said, adjusting the large glasses on his nose, his tone earnest. “Because before I became your student, my greatest ambition was to become a prison warden. After becoming your student, my ambition upon graduation remains the same—to become a prison warden.”

“I have no grand ambitions, so I require neither great ability nor an extensive network. Whether or not I am your student, I believe I can achieve this through my own efforts.”

Jiao Yuheng was at a loss between laughter and tears—had he chosen the wrong student? The boy didn’t even seem grateful.

“So you mean—you are content, and thus without fear?”

“I do have fears,” Tang Zhong said. “That’s precisely why, knowing the background of the cafeteria contractor, I’m concerned. I worry my roommate might face retaliation, even expulsion.”

“Impossible,” Jiao Yuheng said forcefully. “Without my permission, who would dare expel my student?”

Tang Zhong smiled, bowing deeply to Jiao Yuheng. “Thank you, Dean.”

Jiao Yuheng realized he had let his emotions slip and the boy had caught him at it. Too weary to explain, he said, “No need to thank me. If your roommate is indeed innocent, no one can harm him. But if he started the trouble and hurt a teacher, I will be the first to expel him. Such a student has no place with me.”

“There were many witnesses in the cafeteria. The investigation will not disappoint you,” Tang Zhong replied.

“Enough, I’m aware of the matter. You can go,” Jiao Yuheng said, waving him off.

Hearing this, Tang Zhong felt the weight in his heart lift.

He knew Jiao Yuheng was prepared to intervene.

As the dean, once he involved himself, things wouldn’t get out of hand.

“Thank you, Dean,” Tang Zhong said again, then turned to leave.

“Wait,” Jiao Yuheng called out.

Tang Zhong turned back.

“Can you tell me—why do you want to become a prison warden?” Jiao Yuheng asked. Although he felt it was beneath him to pose such a question to a student, his curiosity was too great.

Besides, he knew the person in the lounge was probably even more anxious than he was. If he didn’t ask, she’d surely pluck every hair from his head when she came out.

The Department of Psychology at South University was the most renowned in the country. Graduates never had to worry about job prospects. Some became faculty, some wrote psychology books, others worked in major corporations’ HR departments, and some started their own companies or studios—

Through his years as a psychology professor and more than a decade as dean, he’d heard every kind of strange ambition and career plan.

But never had anyone told him they wanted to be a prison warden.

Tang Zhong smiled.

Behind the large glasses, his face took on an extraordinary air.

“Because of my father,” Tang Zhong said. “I want to be the kind of man he was.”