50: Chapter 53 A Satirical Meeting: You're Going to Donate the Entire School?

Wednesday, 2:00 PM, No. 19 Middle School lecture hall.

All-school faculty meeting.

Fang Jiming sat in the corner of the last row, his thermos on his knees, his eyelids fighting against sleep.

Today was a bit different.

When Vice Principal Sun Yaozu stood on the podium, he had a smile on his face—the kind of smile that made the back of Fang Jiming's neck go cold.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu cleared his throat, holding a printed document in his hand.

"Teachers, we have an extra agenda item today."

He held up the document.

"I believe everyone has seen recently that the classroom for Class 18, Grade 12 has undergone a large-scale renovation. It was a significant investment, supposedly a donation from some overseas foundation."

He put special emphasis on the word "supposedly."

"Teacher Fang, as the homeroom teacher of Class 18, personally facilitated this donation. This spirit is worthy of praise."

He smiled and glanced in Fang Jiming's direction.

Fang Jiming held his thermos, his face devoid of any expression.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's smile diminished by thirty percent.

"However, some teachers have reported an issue to the Academic Affairs Office."

He scanned the thirty-plus teachers present.

"The desks and chairs in Class 18 are imported, the blackboard is an 85-inch OLED, and the air conditioning is a Daikin silent ventilation system. Forget No. 19 Middle School; even Nanqiao No. 1 Middle School might not have these configurations."

"Teachers and students from other classes inevitably feel unbalanced seeing this. Creating special treatment is not conducive to campus unity."

Director He Rencai chimed in from the side, the sweat on his bald head gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

"Exactly, exactly. We investigated the feedback from students in other classes, and many students are asking: why does Class 18 get VIP treatment? Why was the donation only given to Class 18? Are they not students of No. 19 Middle School too?"

He looked at Vice Principal Sun Yaozu after speaking and received a satisfied nod.

Several teachers sitting in the middle began whispering to each other.

Teacher Wen Ruyan sat in the third row by the window, her fingers gripping her pen so hard her knuckles turned white.

She understood all too well what Vice Principal Sun Yaozu meant by these words.

He was putting Fang Jiming on the spot.

"You gave Class 18 special treatment, and other classes are feeling unbalanced. Either you make all classes the same, or you are engaging in favoritism."

Just as Teacher Wen Ruyan was about to raise her hand to object, a lazy voice came from the back row.

"Vice Principal Sun is right."

The room went quiet for a second, and everyone turned to look at the last row.

Fang Jiming stood up with his thermos, unscrewed the lid, blew on the wolfberries on the surface of the water, and took a slow sip.

"It is indeed inappropriate for Class 18 to receive special treatment. I didn't consider this thoroughly, and I apologize to the other teachers."

The smile on Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's face widened by three inches.

Director He Rencai nodded along, preparing to chime in and kick him while he was down.

Fang Jiming tightened the thermos lid, tucked it under his arm, and spoke in a casual tone.

"Since Vice Principal Sun has brought this up on behalf of the whole school's faculty and students, I will have the audacity to go find that benefactor and communicate with them again."

"Let's renovate all the classrooms in the school. No one gets left behind. Fair, just, and open."

The lecture hall went silent instantly.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's smile didn't have time to retract and got stuck at an awkward angle.

Director He Rencai's mouth hung open, and the folder in his hand nearly dropped to the floor.

Principal Zhou Dehai sat in the reserved seat on the side of the podium, holding that enamel cup with the words "Serve the People" on it, his eyes wide.

The thirty-plus teachers looked at each other. The lecture hall was so quiet one could hear the ticking of the old wall clock.

Fang Jiming continued.

"However, I must say this upfront: the budget to renovate thirty-two classrooms is not a small amount. I have to discuss it properly with the benefactor; after all, they aren't a printing press."

"So, I can't guarantee whether it will happen, but since Vice Principal Sun raised this request in front of all the teachers today, I will certainly convey it truthfully."

He enunciated the words "Vice Principal Sun raised this request" very clearly.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's complexion changed visibly.

Fang Jiming was throwing the hot potato back at him.

If the whole-school renovation succeeded, the credit would be Fang Jiming's.

If the whole-school renovation failed, who would the students and teachers blame?

They would blame Vice Principal Sun Yaozu, who publicly stated that special treatment shouldn't exist.

You forced someone to ask the benefactor for money, and when it didn't work out, you are responsible.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu almost crushed the printed material in his hand.

Teacher Wen Ruyan sat in the front row, her tense shoulders slowly relaxing.

She turned her head to look at Fang Jiming and noticed the corners of his mouth slightly curled up, looking like someone who had gotten the better end of the deal.

Physics Teacher Liu whispered to English Teacher Sister Zhang below.

"This Fang Jiming's brain works too fast. He caught Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's sarcasm on the spot and backhanded it right back at him."

Sister Zhang pushed up her glasses and whispered back.

"The question is, what if he actually gets the money from that benefactor?"

Teacher Liu was stunned for a moment.

"That's impossible, right? Renovating all thirty-two classes would cost at least sixty or seventy million. Which foundation is that generous?"

Sister Zhang didn't answer, just looked at Fang Jiming's overly calm face.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu forced himself to endure the twitching of his facial muscles and let out two dry laughs to make up for it.

"Teacher Fang having this intention is, of course, good. However, foundation donations involve large sums of money, so the necessary audit procedures must be followed. We cannot use the banner of donation to do things that are unclear."

Fang Jiming smiled after hearing this.

"Don't worry, Vice Principal Sun. I prepared a thick stack of paperwork for the Class 18 renovation last time. The paperwork for the whole school this time will only be more complete."

He paused for a beat, switching the thermos from his arm to his hand.

"On that note, I wonder if the school's maintenance budget accounts from the past few years are as complete as the Class 18 renovation paperwork. Should we take this opportunity to audit those as well?"

This sentence was said lightly.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's face turned bright red instantly.

Director He Rencai was so scared he shuddered, his briefcase nearly falling from under his arm.

Maintenance budget accounts.

Only they knew how much water was in there.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu: "Let's end the meeting. We'll discuss the subsequent agenda items next time."

He practically fled from the podium.

Director He Rencai followed closely behind, the sweat on his bald head already running down his neck into his collar.

Principal Zhou Dehai sat in his place holding the enamel cup, watching the back of Fang Jiming as he nonchalantly packed up his thermos, and his lips moved.

"Young man," he muttered to himself, "he's got guts."

When Fang Jiming walked out of the lecture hall, Teacher Wen Ruyan chased after him.

"Are you crazy? Do you really intend to make that foundation spend sixty or seventy million to renovate the whole school?"

Fang Jiming walked toward the stairwell without looking back.

"Is there a problem?"

Teacher Wen Ruyan quickened her pace by half a beat to catch up to him.

"The problem is huge. Where do you get the confidence to think they will spend this money?"

Fang Jiming stopped and turned to look at her.

"Teacher Wen, do you believe that renovations for the whole school's classrooms can start within three days?"

Teacher Wen Ruyan stared into his eyes for two seconds.

She found that she couldn't say the words "I don't believe it."

Fang Jiming smiled, turned, and continued walking.

"Teacher Wen, go back and do a good job on the Chinese Language tutoring plan. You don't need to worry about other things."

When Fang Jiming walked out of the teaching building gate, he took out his phone and dialed Chen Jianhua's number.

"Old Chen, the plan has been upgraded."

"Don't do Class 17 separately; go straight to the whole-school plan."

"Thirty-two classrooms plus public areas, the overall budget is sixty-five million."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

Chen Jianhua: "Sixty-five million?"

Fang Jiming: "Yes, still through the New Far East Education Development Foundation as an overseas targeted donation. The paperwork needs to be even more complete than last time."

Chen Jianhua cleared his throat on the phone.

"Mr. Fang, at your spending speed, I'll have to hire two more assistants to keep up."

Fang Jiming laughed.

"Money that can be spent is money; money that can't be spent is just a number."

He hung up the phone, got on his electric scooter, and rode slowly toward Nanshan Residence.

The System Panel on his phone remained quietly in the corner, and the number in his account balance was one hundred million more than yesterday.