45: Chapter 45 A Shocking Monday Morning: Did We Go to the Wrong Class?!

At 6:50 on Monday morning, Fang Jiming appeared at the gate of No. 19 Middle School, riding his brand-new white electric scooter.

Wearing a grey hoodie and canvas shoes washed until they were faded, with a thermos tucked under his arm, he scanned his face to enter the school gate, looking sleepy.

Old Zhang, the security guard, poked half his head out of the duty room and gave him a thumbs up.

"Teacher Fang, regarding your classroom, I watched the construction crew moving things in all night while I was on duty last night. Not bad at all."

Fang Jiming nodded at him, parked his electric scooter under the sycamore tree behind the Administrative Building, and sauntered up to the fifth floor.

He arrived twenty minutes earlier than the students.

The door to Class 18 was closed, and the hallway was so quiet that only the sound of his canvas shoes hitting the terrazzo floor could be heard.

Fang Jiming pushed the door open.

The warm white walls shone cleanly in the morning sunlight, with thirty-eight sets of walnut-colored desks and chairs arranged neatly. An 85-inch OLED interactive whiteboard hung directly in front of the podium, its screen pitch black in standby mode.

On the ceiling, the indicator lights of two Daikin silent air conditioners flickered with green light, and the fresh air system had already been running for two hours.

Fang Jiming walked around, tapped the brand-new teacher's desk on the podium, and pulled open the drawer to take a look at the pre-installed power outlets and USB charging ports inside.

Then he placed his thermos on the desk and unscrewed the lid; the scent of goji berries began to drift through the air.

Fang Jiming: ( ≖ ‿ ≖ )

He took out the class roster and a red ballpoint pen, crossed his legs, and sat on the brand-new office chair.

The chair felt so comfortable that he almost sighed out loud.

"The two million was worth it."

He glanced at his watch; it was 7:05.

The first to arrive was Lin Xiaoxi.

The moment she pushed the door open, she froze. Holding her Drawing board, her eyes scanned from left to right, then right to left. After scanning twice, she looked down at the room number.

Fang Jiming didn't even look up.

"What are you looking at? Come in and sit in your seat."

Lin Xiaoxi took small steps as she walked in, looking left and right along the way. After sitting in her seat, she reached out to touch the desk surface and pressed on the back of the chair.

The backrest could actually be adjusted.

The corners of her mouth twitched, but she quickly lowered her head, opened her Drawing board, and began Drawing.

The second to arrive was Zhang Ming.

Zhang Ming pushed the door open and stared for three seconds, stepped back out to check the room number, pushed the door open again and stared for three seconds, then stepped back out to check the room number again.

Fang Jiming: ( ¬ ‸ ¬ )

"Zhang Ming, did you not wake up properly? The room number isn't going to lie to you. Get in here."

Zhang Ming floated into the classroom, sat in his seat, and rubbed his hands back and forth across the desk surface.

"Brother Fang, is this desk made of solid wood?"

Fang Jiming turned a page of the class roster.

"Otherwise, what did you think it was made of? Paper?"

"Really? It feels smoother than my mom's vanity."

Next, the students arrived in twos and threes.

Every single one who pushed the door open would stand at the entrance, stunned for three seconds, then go outside to check the room number, and come back to be stunned for another three seconds.

A boy muttered, "Did I go to the wrong teaching building?"

"You didn't go to the wrong one. Get in and sit down." Fang Jiming didn't even look up.

A few girls shrieked in hushed tones.

When Zhao Dazhuang walked to the door while yawning, he became visibly wide awake.

Zhao Dazhuang: ( ⊙ ω ⊙ )

"Holy crap?"

He rubbed his eyes to confirm he wasn't dreaming.

"Brother Fang, did you sell us out to get a VIP classroom?"

Fang Jiming turned a page of the class roster.

"How much do you think a bunch of losers like you are worth?"

Zhao Dazhuang chuckled and sat in his seat. The moment his butt touched the cushion of the ergonomic chair, he let out a sigh of admiration.

"Holy crap, this chair is so comfortable. It's softer than my gaming chair at home."

Zhang Ming poked him from the side.

"Look at that air conditioner on the ceiling. It doesn't make a sound."

"This setup is even better than an internet cafe." Zhao Dazhuang glanced upward.

"There's even a direct drinking water dispenser in the back!" Zhang Ming looked back and took a peek. "It has both cold and hot water!"

Qian Duoduo rushed in at the very last second before the bell. His chubby body slammed the brakes at the door, and the gold chain around his neck swayed three times.

His mouth opened into an 'O' shape and stayed that way for about five seconds.

Qian Duoduo: ( ꐦ ° д ° )

"Brother Fang!"

He rushed to his seat, grabbed the edge of the desk with both hands, and shook it hard. The desk didn't budge at all.

"This desk is even sturdier than the mahogany coffee table my dad bought with his demolition compensation."

He pulled open the drawer and discovered a pre-installed charging port inside.

"It can even charge? Brother Fang, what on earth did you do?"

Fang Jiming tapped the podium with the cap of his pen.

"What's all the noise about? You all look like you've never seen the world before. The old desks were too dirty, and it disgusted me, so I just had someone change them."

"Just changed them?" Qian Duoduo's voice went up an octave. "Brother Fang, do you know how much a desk like this costs? Even my dad's office doesn't use ones this nice."

"Talk about your dad's office with your dad when you get home. Sit down properly in my class."

Wang Tiezhu sat in his new seat, his hands resting on his thighs. He didn't make a sound, just looked at the things in front of him.

He reached out and touched the desk surface, his fingertips sliding over the smooth solid wood.

He remembered the dining table at home, which only had three good legs, with the fourth propped up by a red brick. When his mother cut vegetables on it, she had to lay down a towel first, or the cutting board would wobble along with the table.

He turned his head and glanced at Fang Jiming on the podium; Fang Jiming was flipping through the class roster and wasn't looking at him.

Wang Tiezhu lowered his head, rubbed the tip of his nose with his school uniform sleeve, and said nothing.

Lu Zihao sat in the last row, his arms crossed over his chest.

His gaze lingered on that 85-inch OLED whiteboard for a long time.

Su Xiaoxiao huddled in her seat in the corner, her ten fingers gently spreading and closing on the new desk surface.

She looked up at her surroundings, the corners of her mouth curved up, and then she quickly lowered her head and buried her face in her textbook.

Fang Jiming watched the students below touching the desks, chairs, and walls one by one, and picked up his thermos to take a sip of goji berry tea.

"Are you all done touching everything?"

The thirty-some pairs of eyes in the class all turned to look at him in unison.

"If you're done, we need to discuss something before we start class."

It went quiet below.

"Guess what I found on those old desks of yours?"

Qian Duoduo shouted from below, "Brother Fang, don't keep us in suspense, just tell us."

"Someone drew a turtle on the desk."

The whole class began to whisper.

Fang Jiming pressed his hand in the air, and only spoke once it was quiet.

"Drawing a turtle is fine, that's nothing. Our Class 18 is full of talent, so Drawing a turtle is just normal performance."

Someone below was holding back laughter.

"But." Fang Jiming paused, his gaze sweeping around the classroom. "Next to that turtle, five words were written—'Portrait of Teacher Fang'."

The whole class went quiet for half a second, then exploded.

Qian Duoduo was the first to laugh out loud, his chubby body shaking like jelly on the chair.

Zhang Ming lay on the desk and slapped the surface, making the twelve-thousand-yuan solid wood desk go 'bang bang'.

Zhao Dazhuang laughed so hard he slid off his chair, climbed back up, and slid down again.

Lin Xiaoxi kept her head down, her shoulders shaking, and the pencil on her Drawing board rolled onto the floor.

Su Xiaoxiao buried her face in her arms, the roots of her ears turning bright red.

Lu Zihao leaned against the chair in the last row, the corners of his mouth curving up, and he smiled for once.

Wang Tiezhu didn't laugh out loud, but his eyes curved into crescents, and he folded his arms to watch how Fang Jiming would wrap this up.

Fang Jiming stood on the podium, waited for them to laugh for a full half-minute, and then slowly picked up his thermos and took a sip.

"Are you done laughing?"

No one answered him; they were still laughing.

Fang Jiming: ( 눈 _ 눈 )

"Fine, go ahead and laugh. Anyway, the content of today's lesson will be on the midterm exam. We'll start lecturing once you're done laughing. If you don't score over 120, don't come looking for me."

The laughter slowly died down.

Fang Jiming took the red ballpoint pen from behind his ear and twirled it between his fingers.

"Let's talk business."

He paused.

"That turtle, I've seen it."

The whole class grew tense again.

"It's drawn—well—"

Fang Jiming drew out the sound, and all thirty-eight heads in the class leaned slightly forward.

"It does look a bit like me."

The whole class burst into laughter again.

Qian Duoduo laughed until tears came out. Wiping them away, he shouted, "Brother Fang, you said it yourself!"

Fang Jiming slapped the ballpoint pen onto the podium.

"However."

As the two words landed, the laughter stopped abruptly.

Fang Jiming's gaze swept across the faces of the entire class, unhurried, like someone picking out watermelons at a vegetable market.

"The four legs were drawn too short, the shell was drawn crooked, and the colors were painted outside the lines. Did you spend all your art classes sleeping?"

He tucked the ballpoint pen back behind his ear.

"The tuft of bangs on top of the head was drawn okay; the observation was quite detailed."

Lin Xiaoxi's shoulders shook even harder, but she still didn't look up.

Fang Jiming changed the subject, his voice not loud but clearly heard by the whole class.

"The student who drew the turtle, I won't name you, but you know who you are."

He paused.

"Next time you draw, can you make it look better? Drawing me like that, anyone who didn't know better would think I had a vendetta against turtles."

Zhang Ming raised his hand.

Fang Jiming glanced at him.

"Speak."

"Brother Fang, if it's drawn well, will you forgive them?"

Fang Jiming stared at Zhang Ming expressionlessly for three seconds.

Zhang Ming's smile gradually froze.

Fang Jiming: "Do you think that just because we have a new classroom, I'll be too embarrassed to punish you?"

"Whoever zones out during this lesson, the next turtle portrait will be of them."

Zhang Ming shook his head frantically.

"No, no, no, Brother Fang, I was wrong."

Fang Jiming withdrew his gaze and opened the class roster.

"Alright, jokes aside, turn to page 78 of your textbook, The Geometric Meaning of Derivatives."

"Don't think you can get cocky just because we changed classrooms. No matter how good the desks are, if you fail the exam, you're still losers."

He set his thermos on the podium, stood up, walked over to that 85-inch OLED whiteboard, and pressed the power button.

The whiteboard lit up, and a startup animation appeared on the 4K resolution screen. A few seconds later, it entered the main interface of the interactive system.

Fang Jiming picked up the accompanying stylus and wrote the first character on the screen.

The handwriting was smooth and clear, with no lag.

The whole class collectively gasped.

Qian Duoduo: "Holy crap, this is clearer than that 100-inch TV at my house."

Fang Jiming didn't even turn his head.

"Can your TV at home write?"

Qian Duoduo: "No."

Fang Jiming: "Then shut up and look at the whiteboard."

The news of Class 18's renovation spread throughout No. 19 Middle School in less than one class period.

During the morning exercises, the hallway was crowded with students from other classes, all craning their necks to peek into the Class 18 classroom.

"Damn, look, Class 18's desks and chairs have all been replaced, and that whiteboard is too awesome."

"What kind of setup is this? It's even more advanced than my cousin's classroom at No. 1 Middle School."

"What's Teacher Fang's background, anyway? Who got all these things for their class?"

The news reached the teachers' office, and Old Liu, the Physics teacher, nearly fell off his chair while holding his chipped teacup.

"What the hell? An 85-inch whiteboard?"

Sister Zhang, the English teacher, took off her glasses and ran to see it for herself. When she came back, she collapsed into her chair.

"Old Liu, go see for yourself. I looked up that whiteboard; the screen alone is worth over a hundred thousand."

"The desks and chairs are over ten thousand a set, for thirty-eight sets."

She pushed up her glasses.

"The renovation cost at least a million."

Old Liu forgot to put down his teacup.

"What kind of background does this Fang Jiming have?"

On the second floor of the Administrative Building, in the Vice Principal's office.

Director He Rencai from the Academic Affairs Office ran up the stairs clutching his briefcase, clattering loudly, and pushed open the door, drenched in sweat.

"Principal Sun, something happened."

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu was sitting on his mahogany sofa brewing kung fu tea, not even lifting an eyelid.

"What are you making such a fuss about?"

He Rencai handed his phone over. On the screen was a photo of the Class 18 classroom that other teachers had posted in the group chat.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu set down his teacup and took the phone to look.

Then he zoomed in on the photo and looked again.

He knocked over his teacup with his elbow, and hot tea spilled all over the table without him even noticing.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu: ( ꐦ ° ᷄ ᗝ ° ᷅ )

"Damn it."

He stood up from the sofa.

"Who let him do this? Did he file it with the Academic Affairs Office?"

He Rencai shook his head.

"No procedures were followed at all."

The flesh on Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's face was trembling.

"This Fang Jiming, he's gone completely out of control."