5: Chapter 5 The Vice Principal's Tea Party, The Dilapidated Office

He stood up to stretch his muscles and took the opportunity to look up at the water stain on the ceiling, which was growing larger by the minute.

A drop of murky water fell straight down, landing squarely in the gaps between the keys of his keyboard.

Fang Jiming moved the keyboard aside and fished out a plastic cup from the drawer—who knew whose it had been—to catch the water.

The bottom of the cup was coated in a thick layer of tea stains, likely a "cultural heritage" left behind by the previous homeroom teacher when they fled in defeat.

Watching the dirty water drip into the cup one drop at a time, he felt this issue had to be resolved immediately.

Otherwise, when the rainy summer arrived, the entire office would probably flood.

Fang Jiming used his phone to check the school's administrative procedures; maintenance requests for classrooms and offices required the signature and approval of the Vice Principal.

Principal Zhou Dehai was said to be away at meetings all year round and didn't manage anything; the power for the school's daily operations was entirely in the hands of Vice Principal Sun Yaozu.

He carried the plastic cup used for catching the leak and walked all the way to the door of the Vice Principal's office on the fourth floor.

The door was shut tight, with low, intermittent chatter drifting out from inside.

Fang Jiming raised his hand and knocked three times.

"Come in."

The voice was unhurried, carrying a casual air of someone enjoying leisure time after a meal.

Fang Jiming turned the handle and pushed the door open to enter.

The Vice Principal's office was a completely different world from his own leaky workstation.

The twenty-some square meter independent space was floored with glossy, dark imitation wood, and on the windowsill sat two pots of carefully pruned asparagus ferns.

A large mahogany desk was polished to a mirror finish, and on it sat an exquisite set of blue and white porcelain tea ware, with the air in the room filled with the refreshing scent of high-grade tea.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu sat spread-eagled in the leather swivel chair behind the desk, holding a blue and white lidded bowl, leisurely blowing the steam off the tea.

He was over fifty, balding, and wore a decent light blue shirt with the collar slightly open, with a white towel for wiping sweat draped around his neck.

Standing next to him was a middle-aged man in a gray jacket, who, judging by his attire, must have been from the logistics department.

"Who are you?"

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu didn't even fully lift his eyelids, just cracked them open a sliver to sweep a glance at Fang Jiming.

"Hello, Principal Sun. I am the new homeroom teacher for Class 18, Fang Jiming."

"Oh, Mr. Fang."

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu nodded, set down the lidded bowl, and squeezed a standard administrative smile onto his chubby face.

"Sit, sit, sit. Come have a cup of tea."

Fang Jiming sat down on the guest sofa.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu personally poured him a small cup of tea and pushed it over.

Fang Jiming picked up the cup and sniffed it; the tea aroma was clear and crisp, definitely not an ordinary product.

Although he didn't know much about tea, his father was a veteran teacher, and when guests came over, the tea usually brewed was the nine-yuan-ninety-cent free shipping jasmine tea from the supermarket. The taste before him was in a completely different dimension from that.

Fang Jiming put down the teacup and got straight to the point.

"Principal Sun, I came today to request repairs for my office."

"The ceiling in the office at the end of the east side on the third floor is leaking, and it's already dripping onto the desk."

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu unhurriedly picked up the lidded bowl and took a sip.

"Leaking, huh? That is a bit serious."

"But as you know, Mr. Fang, No. 19 Middle School's budget is tight every year. The money allocated by the district finance department is barely enough to pay the teachers' salaries, so we can't just open the floodgates for spending."

Fang Jiming didn't respond.

His gaze landed on Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's wrist. A green dial, gold case. The Rolex crown logo was particularly glaring under the overhead light.

That watch was worth at least a hundred thousand.

Fang Jiming withdrew his gaze, revealing nothing on his face.

"Principal Sun, the leak isn't a big deal. Finding a worker from outside the school to patch the ceiling wouldn't cost much."

"Sigh, Mr. Fang, you don't know the cost of living until you're the one managing the household."

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu set down the lidded bowl and counted on his short, thick fingers.

"To patch a ceiling, you have to find a certified construction team. Once a construction team enters the school, you have to go through the approval process, and between materials and labor, it'll be several thousand at least. We only have these four buildings in the school, and which one doesn't leak? If I approve yours today, other teachers will come looking for me tomorrow. There's no way to end this."

"You go back and make do for now. I'll discuss it with Old Zhao from logistics to see if we can squeeze some repair funds out of the daily budget."

The middle-aged man in the gray jacket standing next to him immediately nodded, his body leaning slightly forward and shifting half a step toward Vice Principal Sun Yaozu.

"Yes, yes, yes. The budget is indeed tight. I ask that Teacher Fang please try to overcome this."

Fang Jiming glanced at that Old Zhao and didn't say anything more.

Reasoning with such an old slicker who had spent his whole life playing these games was a complete waste of time.

"Fine, then I'll head back first."

Fang Jiming stood up, ready to leave.

"Don't rush, don't rush. Sit down first."

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu picked up the teapot and added another cup for him.

"Mr. Fang, you are a new teacher after all, so there are some things I need to tell you upfront."

He leaned back against the large leather chair back and crossed his legs.

"You've seen the situation with Class 18. The students' foundations are too poor; there's basically no hope of them getting into college."

"As their homeroom teacher, don't put too much pressure on yourself."

"Just maintain class discipline and avoid any safety accidents, and you'll have completed your task."

"As for academic performance, just do what you can; there's no need to force it."

Fang Jiming didn't respond.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu waited two seconds, and seeing no reaction, gave a dry laugh and picked up the lidded bowl again to blow on the tea.

The meaning behind that smile was simple—young man, it's too early for you to be saying anything.

"Principal Sun, no matter how poor Class 18 is, they are still students of our school."

Fang Jiming replied casually, stood up, and walked toward the door.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu didn't try to keep him.

Fang Jiming came out of the Vice Principal's office; the corridor was empty, without even a shadow of a person.

He leaned against the cold tiled wall for a while.

The mahogany desk, leather chair, blue and white porcelain tea set, and the asparagus ferns on the windowsill that were specially maintained by someone in Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's office—if you just did a rough calculation, at least thirty to fifty thousand had been dumped into it.

A Vice Principal of a public high school that was at the bottom of the city rankings had an office decorated more luxuriously than the head of a key city school.

And the class he was in charge of—thirty-eight students squeezed into a narrow classroom sitting at wobbly, broken desks, with the ceiling fan missing two blades, making as much noise as a tractor when it turned.

As for where the education funding allocated from above actually went, there was no need to check the books for that.

Fang Jiming took out his phone and checked his WeChat balance.

Ten thousand, one hundred and twenty-five yuan and fifty cents.

One hundred thousand arriving tomorrow.

One million the day after.

One hundred million every day starting from the seventh day.

"Vice Principal Sun Yaozu, you're trying to brush me off to save a few hundred yuan in repair costs, aren't you?"

"Fine, then we'll just drag this out."

Fang Jiming put his phone back into his pocket, turned, and walked toward the stairwell.

Returning to his desk, he discovered that the plastic cup had already caught nearly half a cup of dirty water.

He reached out, picked up the cup, poured it into the trash can by his feet, and put it back in its original place to continue catching the leak.

On the next desk, Teacher Wen Ruyan's white ceramic mug stood quietly beside a pile of lesson plans.

This time, he finally saw the line of small black text printed on the side of the mug.

"Education is one tree shaking another tree."

Fang Jiming stared at this line of text for two seconds, then looked down at the broken plastic cup on his own desk catching the leak.

Another drop of dirty water fell from the ceiling, landing squarely in the bottom of the cup.

"What a joke."