15: Chapter 15: He who eats another's food is bound to do the same; Class 18 achieves a full complement of students.

1:40 PM, twenty minutes until the first class.

Fang Jiming sat in that 82,000-yuan chair in the office, scrolling through his phone, while the numbers on the System Panel kept changing.

[ Liu Qiang: Willingness to return 71%. ]

[ Sun Tiedan: Willingness to return 63%. ]

[ Han Bingbing: Willingness to return 78%. ]

The values for the other students who had been absent for a long time were also rising; the increase wasn't huge, but the direction was consistent—everything was trending upward.

He closed the System Panel and was just about to head to the classroom when his phone pinged.

A message in the class group chat.

[ Liu Qiang: Teacher Fang, is there dessert this afternoon? Duoduo says there's dessert??? ]

Fang Jiming glanced at the message and replied with one word.

[ Fang Jiming: Yes. ]

The group chat went quiet for two seconds.

[ Liu Qiang: I'm coming!!! ]

[ Sun Tiedan: Wait for me! I'm putting on my shoes! ]

[ Han Bingbing: Don't eat it all, it takes me half an hour by bus! ]

Fang Jiming stared at the three messages popping up on the screen, his expression very calm, but his fingers tapped unconsciously on the desk twice.

Fang Jiming: ( ￣ ＿ ￣ )

The fish has taken the bait.

At 1:55 PM, Fang Jiming stood at the entrance of the Class 18 classroom, lesson plan tucked under his arm, leaning against the doorframe and watching the hallway.

There were already 26 people sitting inside the classroom, the same configuration as in the morning, not one more, not one less.

Then, a figure appeared at the end of the hallway.

Liu Qiang.

A short boy, his hair as messy as if he'd just been dragged out of bed, his school uniform zipper not pulled all the way up, his backpack hanging by only one strap, he came stumbling around the corner from the stairs.

He was running fast, the soles of his canvas shoes squeaking against the concrete floor.

When he reached the classroom entrance, he braked suddenly, almost colliding with Fang Jiming who was standing at the door.

Liu Qiang looked up at Fang Jiming, panting heavily, his eyes revealing three parts guilt and seven parts greed.

"T-Teacher Fang, I'm here."

"I see that." Fang Jiming stepped half a step to the side.

Liu Qiang hunched his back and ducked under his arm to go inside, sat in his seat, threw his backpack onto the desk, and immediately started looking around for dessert.

Fang Jiming ignored him.

Two minutes later, the second person appeared.

Sun Tiedan, sturdy as a little calf, his skin tanned dark, his face still bearing the red marks of having been out in the sun all afternoon, bumped into the doorframe as he entered with a dull thud.

Rubbing his shoulder and grimacing, he squeezed into the classroom and plopped down in the second-to-last row.

"Hello, Teacher Fang." He greeted him.

Fang Jiming nodded.

Five minutes later, Han Bingbing arrived.

She was different from the two boys before her; her pace was unhurried as she entered, her expression indifferent, as if she hadn't been lured back by those photos of Wagyu beef in the group chat, but had intended to come to class today all along.

She sat down in a seat toward the back-middle, took out her phone and placed it on the desk, her eyes never once looking in Fang Jiming's direction.

Fang Jiming noticed the thin red string bracelet peeking out from under the cuff of her school uniform, and a faint old scar on the skin next to the bracelet.

He withdrew his gaze and didn't look any further.

Han Bingbing's story was not the subject of today's lesson.

At 2:00 PM sharp, the bell for the first class rang.

Fang Jiming walked up to the podium, opened the class roster, and swept his gaze across the classroom.

Then he noticed something.

The number of students present this afternoon was 29.

Three more than in the morning.

Adding the 26 from the morning, the total attendance for the day had already broken the record since he came to No. 19 Middle School.

But out of 38 people, 9 were still missing.

He was calculating in his mind how to get the rest of them back when the back door of the classroom creaked open.

Two boys slipped in, crouching low, their footsteps light as if they were stealing something, trying to sit in the back row without attracting anyone's attention.

Unfortunately, the 29 pairs of eyes in the class plus Fang Jiming's pair, totaling 30 pairs of eyes, were all watching them.

One of the short boys turned bright red under their gaze and whispered, "Teacher Fang, um, we're here for class."

The other, taller boy was more direct: "Where's the dessert?"

A burst of laughter erupted in the classroom.

Fang Jiming: ( ˘ ω ˘ )

He didn't laugh or scold them, but picked up the roster and checked off the two names.

Number of students present, 31.

Over the next half hour, four more people trickled in one after another.

Each person's demeanor was different; some walked in confidently and sat down directly, some looked around for a long time before sneaking in the back door, and some looked at Fang Jiming on the podium first, only daring to take their seats after confirming there were no signs of him scolding anyone in public.

But the reason was the same.

The photos in the group chat were just too damn tempting.

At 2:40 PM, Fang Jiming counted the attendance again.

35 people.

Out of 38 people, 35 had come.

Only 3 left.

He was looking down, making marks on the roster, when the front door of the classroom was pushed open from the outside.

A thin, small girl stood at the door, her bangs covering almost half her face, her school uniform at least two sizes too big, hanging loosely on her frame.

She stood at the door with her head down, motionless, as if waiting for someone to give the order allowing her to enter.

The buzzing discussion in the classroom quieted down a bit, and a few girls cast their eyes over.

Fang Jiming looked up and saw a name on the roster.

Su Xiaoxiao.

This was the girl who had transferred from out of town; she hadn't attended class for five consecutive days, and the System flagged her dropout tendency as high as 79%.

Fang Jiming looked at her for two seconds.

"Come in and sit down."

His tone was very flat, so flat it sounded like he was speaking to an ordinary student who arrived on time every day; there was no surprise, no questioning, and absolutely no implication of "why are you just now arriving."

Su Xiaoxiao walked in with her head down, her footsteps very light and slow; she sat in a corner against the wall in the third-to-last row, hugged her backpack to her chest, and curled herself into a small ball.

Fang Jiming didn't look at her again, continuing to check off the roster.

36 people.

Then the door was pushed open again, and two boys entered; they seemed to be together, pushing and shoving each other as they squeezed in, still whispering an argument.

"I told you, there'd definitely be food if we came, but you had to drag your feet."

"But what if there wasn't? Wouldn't I have made the trip for nothing?"

"What the hell are you afraid of? Anyway, there's nothing else to do, we're here now."

After the two of them sat down, Fang Jiming scanned the whole class again.

He put down the roster, leaned against the edge of the podium, and crossed his arms over his chest.

38 people.

Not one missing.

Everyone is here.

The air in the classroom seemed to change in texture; Fang Jiming couldn't quite put his finger on what that feeling was, but as he stood on the podium scanning these 38 faces—some excited, some bewildered, some indifferent, some nervous—something inside him stirred.

Very lightly, like a thin string being touched by something, giving a resonant hum.

He suppressed it.

"Alright."

Fang Jiming cleared his throat; his voice wasn't loud, but the classroom was quiet enough for everyone to hear clearly.

"It's rare for everyone to be here today, so I'll say this upfront."

38 pairs of eyes watched him.

"From now on, if everyone is here for class, I'll provide lunch."

The classroom exploded again.

"Really?!"

"Every day?!"

"The same as today's lunch?!"

Fang Jiming raised his hand and pressed it downward to signal for quiet.

"Not necessarily the same as today, but I guarantee it'll be better than the Cafeteria."

He paused and added a sentence.

"That's not a hard standard to meet; if you fed the stuff from the Cafeteria to the stray cats downstairs from my place, even the cats would find it too salty."

A burst of laughter erupted from the back row, and even Su Xiaoxiao, who had been huddled in the corner the whole time, twitched the corner of her mouth.

Qian Duoduo immediately raised his hand.

"Teacher Fang! What if someone is late?"

"Those who are late will watch others eat."

Qian Duoduo pulled his hand back.

Zhao Dazhuang, slumped over his desk, asked in a muffled voice: "What about skipping class?"

"There is none for those who skip class; if you don't come, you don't get any."

Zhao Dazhuang buried his face in his arms, his ears turning red.

He hadn't arrived at the classroom on time at 8:00 AM this morning because of this meal, but because of yesterday's bet, but he knew that if he hadn't come today, he would never forget the taste of tomorrow's meal for the rest of his life.

Fang Jiming scanned the class, confirmed no one had any more questions, picked up a piece of chalk, turned around, and wrote a line of text on the blackboard.

"Open your textbooks to Chapter 3."

The whole class obediently opened their books.

Fang Jiming: ( • ̀ ω • ́ )

Teacher Fang's "money-power" education method, phase one, the first battle is a success.