One must constantly strive for improvement.

Apart from the four students hospitalized, the five who transferred out, and the two whose parents didn’t attend the parent-teacher meeting, everyone else was present. Thirty-nine people sat in the classroom.

Leaning on his crutch, Zhang Pa stood up and spoke, “I’m pleased you all came.” He paused, then added, “Applaud.” Yun Zheng took the lead, and the students, giving face, joined in with a round of applause.

“Thank you,” Zhang Pa said, as a surge of air rose from his stomach, forcing out a burp that carried with it the unpleasant taste lingering in his gut. He coughed softly—not for effect, but as a genuine reflex, something was stuck in his throat.

Exhaling lightly, he continued, “Yesterday, I held a meeting with your parents. It went well—only three didn’t show up. Another five applied to transfer classes, but don’t worry about them. By the way, Wang Jiang, you deserve praise: your parents didn’t come, but you showed up today. That’s giving me a lot of respect—thank you.”

Wang Jiang replied loudly, “You’re too kind, Teacher.”

Zhang Pa smiled, “Not at all. You’ll see how unkind I can be once I finish what I have to say.” Then he continued, “There are four students still hospitalized who couldn’t make it—not their fault. As for the rest of you thirty-nine, listen carefully. Pay attention.”

He coughed again, confirming a feverish cold. “For certain reasons, my voice might be a little weak. If anyone can’t hear me, raise your hand and ask.”

After this, he forced himself to straighten his back and began in earnest, “As your teacher, I have neither patience nor kindness. I won’t go out of my way to care for anyone, listen to grievances, or reform anyone. Remember this: in Class Eighteen, Grade Three, there is only one principle, only one rule—me. All reasoning starts and ends with me. If anyone displeases me, I guarantee they’ll regret it.”

He took a few steps forward. “Some of this I’ve said before, but many weren’t here then. I’ll say it again. Yes, I’m threatening you. Before I said these words, you still had a chance to leave—now you don’t. To prove my resolve, as many of you saw last time, I stabbed myself. I warn you in this way: if I can do that to myself, do you think I’d hesitate to hit you?”

“I know some don’t believe me. I’ll show you now.” He undid his belt. “There are no girls in this class, so there’s no need to be shy.” He pulled down his trousers, revealing a discolored bandage, black and red, with a disturbing hue.

“If you didn’t see clearly, come closer. If you don’t believe me, I can unwrap the bandage,” Zhang Pa said.

Yun Zheng, eager to play along, called out, “We believe you!”

Zhang Pa replied, “I know I should get the dressing changed at the hospital, but first, I’m lazy; second, I have no time. It’s been delayed. I don’t know what’s happening—maybe it’s infected. Since last night, I’ve been dizzy and muddled…” As he spoke, he pulled up his trousers, buckling his belt. “Still muddled now, but it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you believe me, that you know I mean every word.”

He coughed twice more, apologizing, “Sorry, my body insists on coughing—I can’t control it. Now, to the point: from today until graduation, unless there are special circumstances, you must come to school. I don’t care if you sleep or read other books, but you must be here! If someone skips, I’ll call a few names—Yu Yuan, Liu Ziqiang, Wang Xiao—stand up.”

Three students rose. These were the ones Zhang Pa had hit on his first day in the classroom: Yu Yuan, the big guy; Liu Ziqiang, the tall one over one-eighty; and Wang Xiao, the one who tried to run and was dragged back bloody-faced.

“These three—I’ve all beaten. Ask them if I held back. I promise, if any of you skip class and I catch you, don’t even think about getting away with it.”

He coughed again, then gave a wry smile, “It really is an infection—I feel terrible. But don’t worry, I can still handle you lot.” He continued, “Here’s some good news: all your parents who were present agreed that I can beat you if it gets you in line. They said I could beat you half to death, and if you get hurt, they’ll pay for the hospital. So, nobody is allowed to skip class. Do you understand?”

The students were stunned, not knowing how to respond. Even Yun Zheng, the class clown, remained silent—if he joked about everything, he’d surely be labeled a traitor.

Zhang Pa also fell silent, then asked again in a softer voice, “Do you understand?”

Still, no one answered.

Zhang Pa smiled, “Actually, I’m quite tolerant. You don’t have to reply or pay attention to me, but you must come to school and sit here.” He coughed, smiled, and added, “However, there’s one question you must answer: from today, can you come to school every day?”

Again, silence.

Turning to the three standing students, Zhang Pa said, “You three sit down. We’ll start from this side—each of you will answer in turn. Can you promise to come to school every day? You start,” he said, pointing to the first student on his left.

That student hesitated, glanced back, then turned and whispered, yes.

“Stand up and answer, louder,” Zhang Pa demanded.

The student shot up and replied firmly, “Yes!”

“Very good, continue,” Zhang Pa said, pleased.

From that student onward, each classmate was compelled to pledge their commitment, without exception.

After everyone had answered, Zhang Pa said, “I’ll take your words as truth. Remember, you all promised me! Excellent, I’m very happy. I hope you keep your word and don’t force me to go looking for you…”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come in,” he called.

The classroom door opened, and in came Lao Pi and his group, each with bandaged wounds, one on crutches, shuffling slowly inside.

“Why are you here?” Zhang Pa asked.

“We’ve been discharged,” Lao Pi announced to the class. “Listen up—this is my brother. If anyone upsets him, I swear I’ll risk my life to take you down.”

After he finished, the four “monkeys” echoed in unison, “Remember that.”

Yun Zheng, wanting to play the undercover agent, saw the four make their stance clear and immediately stood up, “Count me in too.”

Zhang Pa sighed, “This is a classroom, not a mob initiation. Go sit down.”

The four replied loudly, “Yes!” and sat.

Now, out of forty-five students, forty-three were present—only two were missing, their parents absent as well. Those two had been beaten the worst in previous fights, both unlucky kids mixed up with street thugs.

At this point, Zhang Pa paused and said, “Study on your own now. I need to go to the hospital. When I get back, I hope everyone is still here.”

“I’ll take you,” Yun Zheng stood up.

“No need. It’s class time—you all have to stay in school!” Zhang Pa replied as he left.

Outside, he ran into Principal Qin, who frowned at him, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I need to take a leave,” Zhang Pa replied.

“Hurry up, I’ll keep an eye on things,” said the principal.

“No need. They have to watch themselves. If they can’t, I’ll deal with it when I get back.” With that, he left and took a taxi to the hospital.

At the hospital, he was put on an IV drip—three days’ worth, the doctor said. He went to the infusion room, intending to type as he received treatment, but soon after the needle went in, he became drowsy and had to shut the computer and sleep.

He slept through two bottles of fluids and even missed getting his bandage changed.

When he woke, it was already after two in the afternoon. Feeling a bit better, he was discharged and returned to school.

Whether it was fear from his words and self-inflicted wound, or moved by his sickbed admonitions, all forty-three students were there.

Zhang Pa was delighted, “Once I’m well, and you keep this up for a while, I’ll treat you all to barbecue.”

The students naturally cheered.

Zhang Pa sat behind his desk, intending to type, but as soon as he sat down, drowsiness overtook him and he fell asleep at the desk.

He slept until dismissal, then took a taxi home, bringing the four “monkeys” with him. As soon as he got home, he was tired again—just wanted to sleep.

Gritting his teeth, he washed his face and forced himself to type. By 9:30 p.m. he finished his work, too dizzy to check it over, and uploaded it without review, unable to remember a word he’d written—he just shut the computer and fell asleep.

The next day, hunger woke him—he’d eaten nothing the previous day except medicine.

It was Wednesday, his lucky and date day. Zhang Pa resisted calling his girlfriend, hoping to feel better by afternoon. He took his medicine, went out for breakfast but had no appetite—despite his hunger, he couldn’t eat.

He called the four “monkeys” to go to school together.

Still drowsy—on the bus, all he wanted to do was sleep. It wasn’t just tiredness, but dizziness and confusion—sleep was the only escape. Zhang Pa wondered if he’d taken sleeping pills by mistake.

At the classroom, he forced himself to hold out until 7:30. The same forty-three students were all present again.

He thought to himself that his illness wasn’t in vain—he felt a strange sense of being moved; these rascals were really giving him face.

He stood, leaned on his crutch, and bowed to the class, “Thank you—all of you—for giving me this respect. But it’s still self-study for now; I need to go to the hospital.”

“Teacher, just go home after the hospital—we’ll definitely stay,” said Yu Yuan, the chubby one who’d been beaten the worst.

Zhang Pa smiled, abandoned his crutch, and limped out. He looked so pale and unwell that it was obvious something was wrong.

He thought two days of IVs would be enough, and he could attend his dance class that night. But after today’s fluids, though his condition improved, he still felt occasional spells of dizziness. He wondered if he’d caught bird flu.

He bought some buns on the street for lunch at school.

At noon, while the students went out to eat, he worked in the classroom.

By afternoon, when class started, all forty-three students were present again. Zhang Pa was almost emotional—he shouted, “I’ll definitely treat you all to barbecue. If anyone skips, you’re not giving me face!”

“We’ll definitely give you face, Teacher,” the students replied with smiles.

Though this group did little studying in class—some played on their phones, some napped, others whispered—it was a dramatic improvement from before.

Yu Yuan, the chubby one, once ate hotpot during class.

Yun Zheng and the “monkeys” had played cards during lessons.

Compared to before, they truly had made progress.