3: Chapter 3 Shut Up, Yellow-haired Guy! The Newbie's Sharp Tongue Counterattack

These arrogant little brats really thought the new substitute teacher could be bullied at will.

Fang Jiming bent down to pick up the piece of chalk that had just hit him, white chalk dust clinging to his fingertips.

The entire class stopped what they were doing and watched him.

Everyone wanted to see what this rookie teacher was going to do.

Lu Zihao sat in the back row, flicking his lighter to produce a flame as he leaned down to light the cigarette in his mouth.

Fang Jiming raised his arm, aimed at Lu Zihao, and threw the piece of chalk in his hand with force.

The white chalk traced a straight line through the air and struck the cigarette at the corner of Lu Zihao's mouth.

The cigarette snapped in two upon impact.

The burning end fell onto Lu Zihao's pant leg, scorching a hole through his cheap black sweatpants.

"Holy shit." Lu Zihao cursed loudly, slapping his thigh as he stood up.

He kicked his chair aside.

The thirty-plus students in the class all went quiet.

No one expected this seemingly timid new teacher to actually dare to strike first.

Fang Jiming stood on the podium, his hands gripping the edge of the desk.

He looked at the furious Lu Zihao, trying his best to maintain a calm expression, even though cold sweat was already breaking out on his back; he couldn't afford to lose his nerve.

"Shut up, Blondie." Fang Jiming spat out the words.

No one in the classroom spoke.

Everyone was stunned.

The fatty, Qian Duoduo, had his mouth agape, holding a half-eaten bag of chips, having forgotten even to chew.

The girls in the front row who were putting on makeup were so startled they put down their mirrors.

Lu Zihao had been running rampant here for over two years.

In all of Class 18, and even the entire senior year, no one dared to insult him to his face like that.

Even the previous homeroom teacher, who had been angered to the point of hospitalization, only dared to lecture them from the podium using school rules.

Lu Zihao's face turned livid as he clenched his fists.

He thought this rookie teacher had a death wish.

As a street thug who grew up fighting in brawls, how could he be intimidated by a mere teacher?

"Say that again, you motherfucker." Lu Zihao pointed at Fang Jiming on the podium.

Fang Jiming was actually terrified inside.

He couldn't stop cursing internally.

Dammit, what kind of bad karma is this?

This kid is a whole size bigger than me; if he really rushes up and beats me, would that count as a work-related injury?

For that 100 million a day, I'm literally risking my life.

Although he was panicking, he didn't show a hint of fear; when dealing with these half-grown kids, if you back down once, you'll never be able to control them again.

"What, is your hearing bad?" Fang Jiming took another whole piece of chalk from the box, turned around, and wrote his name firmly on the blackboard.

The three characters of his name, Fang Jiming, were written with such force they seemed to pierce through the board.

After writing, he tossed the chalk back into the box, clapped his hands, and faced the class.

"Put the cigarette away and put your feet down." Fang Jiming stared into Lu Zihao's eyes.

Lu Zihao gritted his teeth and didn't move.

The few lackeys sitting beside him also stood up, ready to rush the podium at the slightest disagreement.

Fang Jiming didn't back down in the slightest.

He quickly calculated his strategy; going head-to-head was out of the question—his scrawny frame wouldn't stand a chance against them. He had to use an adult's methods to suppress them.

"You want to hit me?" Fang Jiming suddenly smiled.

He pointed at the dusty surveillance camera in the corner of the classroom.

"The surveillance is broken; I know that." Fang Jiming shrugged.

The boys below let out a cold laugh.

Fang Jiming slowly left the podium, walked to the front row of desks, and looked down at the boys in the back row who were itching for a fight.

"I'm twenty-four, single, and my parents are in their hometown hundreds of kilometers away."

"I have no attachments and no money."

"If you hit me here today," Fang Jiming tapped the desk with his index finger.

"I'll immediately lie on the floor and call an ambulance."

"I'll get a full-body checkup, and I'll lie in every single machine available."

"As long as I shout that my head hurts, if I don't get a settlement of a hundred thousand or eighty thousand, I guarantee I'll make sure all of you get a major disciplinary mark on your permanent records."

The class was dead silent.

No one had ever seen a teacher use this kind of tactic; he was even more shameless than them.

Lu Zihao's expression shifted, and his footsteps halted.

He wasn't afraid of a disciplinary mark, but he knew his family had no money.

His mother sold cosmetics at the mall, working day and night, only earning a few thousand a month.

If he really had to pay a hundred thousand or eighty thousand, his family would have to scrape everything together, and his mother would be kneeling in the hospital corridor crying her eyes out.

Fang Jiming caught the hesitation in Lu Zihao's eyes and knew he had won the bet.

These kids, despite looking fierce, were still within the bubble of the school and had no idea about the true malice of the adult world.

Fang Jiming stepped off the podium and walked straight to Lu Zihao, stopping less than half a meter away.

Fang Jiming was half a head taller than Lu Zihao, and at this moment, he held the absolute upper hand.

"What, not convinced?" Fang Jiming asked.

Lu Zihao gritted his teeth and said nothing.

"If you're not convinced, bottle it up." Fang Jiming's voice was low. He reached out, grabbed the half-pack of cheap cigarettes on Lu Zihao's desk, and without even looking at it, tossed it straight into the trash can nearby.

This action caused little physical damage but was extremely insulting.

The lackeys beside him all looked at Lu Zihao.

Lu Zihao's fists clenched and then relaxed; in the end, he didn't throw a punch.

He kicked the chair beside him and sat back down.

"Fine, you win." Lu Zihao squeezed the words through his teeth.

The whole class looked at each other; the king of troublemakers in Class 18 had actually backed down.

Qian Duoduo quietly stuffed the half-bag of chips in his hand back into his desk drawer.

The girls in the front row also hurriedly put away the nail polish and makeup mirrors on their desks.

This new homeroom teacher seemed a bit eerie.

Fang Jiming let out a long sigh of relief internally.

Holy shit, the clothes on my back are completely stuck to me.

If that kid had really thrown a punch just now, I would definitely have ended up in the orthopedic ward.

But luckily, the first round was a win.

As long as authority is established, everything else will be easier to handle.

He walked back to the podium, gripped the desk with both hands, and scanned the entire class.

"My name is Fang Jiming, and from today on, I am the homeroom teacher of Class 18."

His voice sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet classroom.

"I know what you are all thinking right now; you think I won't last three days, and you think Class 18 is the school's dumping ground where no one can do anything." Fang Jiming leaned against the blackboard and shifted into a relaxed posture.

A few students below lowered their heads.

"I also know that many of you don't want to be in school at all." Fang Jiming continued, his tone becoming like a casual conversation.

"Actually, to be honest, I don't want to work either."

The whole class was stunned.

What kind of thing is that to say?

"I also want to lie at home, play video games, and sleep until I wake up naturally every day." Fang Jiming spread his hands.

A few suppressed chuckles came from below.

"But the reality is, I still have to sit here and teach you." Fang Jiming curled his lip, glanced toward his pocket, and snorted coldly to himself.

I'm a person with a system now, too; although I can't directly give money to the students, at least I have enough confidence.

"So, let's try to be considerate of each other." Fang Jiming tapped the desk.