44: Chapter 44: 36 Hours of Madness, Two Million Yuan Creates a God-Level Classroom

Saturday, 4:30 PM. Fang Jiming drove the maybach out from home and parked it in the narrow, unlit alley behind No. 19 Middle School.

He killed the engine, rolled down the window halfway, fished a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes out of the glove box, pulled one out for himself, and stuffed the rest into his hoodie pocket.

At 5:00 sharp, a white Jinbei van slowly drove in from the mouth of the alley.

After the van stopped, a sturdy, middle-aged man with a crew cut and wearing overalls got out of the driver's seat, holding a roll of blue construction blueprints in his hand.

"Mr. Fang? I am Project Manager Zhao Tiejun from Dingsheng Decoration. Chen Jianhua arranged for me to come."

Fang Jiming crushed his cigarette butt, opened the car door, and stepped out.

"Old Zhao, right? Is everything ready?"

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun spread the construction blueprints out on the hood of the maybach and illuminated them with a flashlight.

"The desks and chairs are HermanMiller, air-freighted from Hangzhou. Each chair is 8,600, and the matching solid wood desk is 12,000. Thirty-eight sets of student desks and chairs plus one teacher's podium—just the furniture alone is over 400,000."

Fang Jiming tapped his fingers on the hood twice.

"Continue."

"The 85-inch OLED interactive blackboard is 180,000, sixty imported LED eye-protection lights are 90,000, eight broken-bridge aluminum soundproof windows are 120,000, two Daikin fresh air conditioning units are 160,000, PVC flooring plus installation is 30,000, wall paint is 20,000, and a direct drinking water dispenser is 12,000."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun looked up at Fang Jiming and noticed that this client's expression while hearing the quotes was no different from hearing the price of cabbage at a wet market, so he braced himself and continued.

"Adding everything up—materials, construction, rush fees, and shipping—the total budget is 1.68 million."

Fang Jiming took that pack of Zhonghua cigarettes from his pocket and handed it over.

"Let's round it up to two million. The extra 320,000 is for your team's overtime pay and silence money."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun's hand trembled as he took the cigarettes.

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun: ( ꐦ ⊙ ᗜ ⊙ )

"Mr. Fang, I've been in this business for fifteen years. I've worked for five-star hotels and private clubs, but you are the first person to spend two million on a luxury renovation for a single high school classroom."

Fang Jiming hugged his arms and leaned against the car door.

"That just means your previous clients weren't rich enough."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun was stunned for half a second, then chuckled.

"Fine. I brought three teams with twenty-four workers. We'll split into two shifts and work around the clock to ensure we finish before 6:00 AM on Monday."

"Six o'clock is too late." Fang Jiming held up five fingers. "Five o'clock. If there's an extra hour, I'll use it for the final inspection. If the chair height is off by even a centimeter, you'll have to readjust it for me."

The smile on Project Manager Zhao Tiejun's face faded, and he nodded.

"Five o'clock it is."

Fang Jiming pointed to the back wall of No. 19 Middle School.

"I've already spoken to the security guard. Old Zhang is a reasonable person."

Saying this, he smiled a little.

At 3:00 PM, he had gone to the guard room, carrying two cartons of Zhonghua cigarettes and a kraft paper envelope, and knocked on the door.

Old Zhang was lying on the folding cot in the duty room listening to the radio. When he saw what was in Fang Jiming's hands, he sprang up from the bed, almost knocking over his enamel mug.

"Teacher Fang, this is..."

Fang Jiming placed the two cartons of Zhonghua on the table and pushed the envelope over.

"Uncle Zhang, tonight and tomorrow night, a construction crew will be coming in from the back wall to renovate Class 18. It's a donation from an outside company. The paperwork will be filed this coming Monday."

Old Zhang opened the envelope and glanced at the stack of red bills inside. His fingers trembled.

Ten thousand yuan. His monthly salary was only 2,300.

"Teacher Fang... this, this is too much..."

"Think it's too much?"

"No, no, no, not too much." Old Zhang shoved the envelope under his pillow, moving so fast as if he were afraid Fang Jiming would change his mind, and patted his chest to guarantee, "I'll be sleeping by the back gate these two days. I'll make anyone who comes by take a detour. Even if the principal comes, I'll tell him the back wall is under maintenance and he can't enter."

Fang Jiming patted him on the shoulder.

"Uncle Zhang is loyal. But there is one person you won't be able to stop if he comes."

Old Zhang was stunned.

"Who?"

"Vice Principal Sun Yaozu." Fang Jiming put his hands back into his pockets and walked out. "But it doesn't matter. He won't come on the weekend. That man is desperate to disappear as soon as Friday afternoon hits."

Old Zhang: ( ᵔ ᴥ ᵔ )

Recalling this, Fang Jiming glanced at his watch and turned back to say to Project Manager Zhao Tiejun.

"Start working after 5:30 when it's completely dark. Use scaffolding from the back wall to transport materials to the fifth floor. Use the exterior scaffolding; no one is allowed to walk inside the teaching building."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun nodded efficiently.

"Understood."

"Don't throw away the old desks you take down. Stack them separately and put them in the back alley."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun was puzzled.

"Why keep those broken tables?"

"A student drew a portrait of me on one of the desktops. I need to see who drew it so I can settle the score with them later."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun didn't dare to reply.

At 6:30 PM, it was completely dark.

Three trucks loaded with materials parked in the back alley of No. 19 Middle School, and twenty-four workers in uniform overalls split into two groups to begin moving the equipment.

Fang Jiming did not leave.

He backed the maybach into the shade of the trees at the end of the alley and opened the real-time construction monitoring feed on his phone.

Chen Jianhua had arranged for four wireless cameras to be set up in the corners of the classroom, with the footage transmitted to his phone in real-time.

On the screen, the workers were dismantling those rickety old desks in Class 18.

As those desks were carried out one by one, Fang Jiming saw clearly the words carved into the tabletops.

"Zhang Chi was here."

"Zhao Dazhuang is a pig."

"Math go to hell."

There was also a tabletop with a crooked turtle drawn on it, and next to it was written "Portrait of Teacher Fang."

Fang Jiming: ( 눈 _ 눈 )

"It actually looks quite like me."

He took a sip of the goji berry tea in his thermos and zoomed in on the phone screen to get a closer look at the turtle.

The four legs were drawn too short, and the shell was lopsided, but on the top of its head, there was a tuft of Fang Jiming's signature messy bangs.

"Not bad."

He zoomed out and continued to stare at the construction progress.

At 11:00 PM, his phone rang.

It was a WeChat message from Teacher Wen Ruyan.

"Why didn't you speak in the teacher group chat today? Are you busy with something even on the weekend?"

Fang Jiming smiled as he looked at the message, his fingers typing quickly.

"Lying at home watching TV. Teacher Wen isn't resting on the weekend either—are you thinking of me?"

The reply came in seconds.

"Thinking of your head. I'm preparing lessons for next week. Just reminding you that you have a math class first period on Monday morning, don't be late."

Fang Jiming typed three words and sent them.

"Got it."

After ten seconds, he added another line.

"Teacher Wen."

"What?"

"Is the fan in your classroom rusty too?"

Teacher Wen Ruyan sent back a question mark.

"Why are you asking this suddenly?"

"Nothing, just asking. Sleep early."

Fang Jiming locked his screen, the curve of his lips impossible to suppress.

Fang Jiming: ( ≖ ‿ ≖ ✧ )

For Monday's math class, he prepared to give those students in Class 18 a surprise they would never forget.

He sent a message to Project Manager Zhao Tiejun.

"Is the color code of the paint correct? I want warm white, not cool white."

Project Manager Zhao Tiejun replied instantly.

"Mr. Fang, rest assured. I checked the color code myself: Three Trees N110 Warm White, exactly as you specified."

"Which direction is the AC vent facing?"

"Blowing towards the ceiling, not directly at the students. We've done school projects before, we know the rules."

"Good."

On Sunday afternoon, the 85-inch OLED interactive blackboard was lifted into the classroom by four workers together and fixed to the wall directly in front of the podium.

The moment the blackboard was powered on for testing, the 4K resolution screen lit up, and the blue boot screen cast a cold white light into the classroom.

Fang Jiming stared at the image of the blackboard on his phone screen and gave a loud whistle.

"A two-million-yuan classroom, the only one of its kind in all of Nanqiao City."

Fang Jiming: ( ✧ ∀ ✧ )

Sunday at 10:00 PM, Project Manager Zhao Tiejun called.

"Mr. Fang, everything is finished. The AC, ventilation, lighting, and blackboard have all passed testing, formaldehyde levels are zero, the desks and chairs are in place, the direct drinking water dispenser is installed, and we've done a final cleaning of the floor."

He paused.

"To be honest, Mr. Fang, your students are really lucky."

"Whether they are lucky or not depends on whether they strive for it themselves." Fang Jiming tightened his thermos and stuffed it into the car door storage compartment. "Old Zhao, thanks for your hard work. The final payment will arrive tomorrow."

"Alright." Project Manager Zhao Tiejun hesitated on the other end of the line. "Mr. Fang, can I ask you something?"

"Ask."

"You spent two million to renovate a classroom—what for?"

Fang Jiming started the maybach, and the headlights cast two beams of light onto the dim road of Qiaonan Old Street.

"Just for fun."

He paused, then added.

"And also, for the look on the faces of those brats of mine when they push open the door on Monday morning."