I quite like this sentence.

Zhang Pa said, “The weather’s getting colder. Just hold on a few more days and it’ll be winter…”

Principal Qin interrupted, “Hold it there, winter’s still a ways off.”

“It’s the same thing. Anyway, winter will be here soon, then New Year’s, then the Spring Festival, and before you know it, the high school entrance exam will be upon us. Guess how many points my forty-five underachievers will get?” Zhang Pa continued.

“What are you getting at?” the principal asked.

“I want to ignite their desire to learn,” Zhang Pa explained. “So, I’m hoping you’ll give me the authority to take this bunch of troublemakers out for classes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want them to understand how hard life can be,” Zhang Pa replied. “I’m thinking of wasting two or three months on this. After the New Year, we’ll really buckle down for half a year—not so much for grades, but to give them motivation, at least help them learn something. Maybe they’ll get into a vocational school, or a technical school. If nothing else, they can join the army. The goal is to set them on the right track.”

The principal was silent for a moment, then patted Zhang Pa on the shoulder. “I didn’t misjudge you.”

“Boss, it doesn’t matter if you did or didn’t. What matters is keeping them from causing trouble, backstabbing, and making sure they realize life isn’t easy,” Zhang Pa said.

“So what’s your plan?” the principal asked.

“I don’t have the details yet—that’s why I’m asking for your opinion first. The general idea is to let them taste hardship, show them how tough others have it, and then brainwash them—really brainwash them—so they follow the rules.” He paused. “Brainwashing is the hardest part. I have no experience with it. Nine years of compulsory education hasn’t managed to brainwash them…”

He trailed off. The principal pondered, then said, “I’ll think about it. But I have to remind you, if you take them out, the biggest issue isn’t brainwashing—it’s safety. Can you keep an eye on over forty kids by yourself?”

“I’ll have them look after themselves—Yun Zheng, Wang Jiang, Li Shan, and Lao Pi, each in charge of three to five people. It should be fine,” Zhang Pa replied.

Principal Qin shook his head. “No school does it this way. It’s risky. In fact, many schools have even canceled spring outings out of fear of accidents and responsibility.”

“You said ‘many schools’—does that include ours?” Zhang Pa asked.

“Of course it does!” The principal shot him a look. “What did you think?”

“Oh,” said Zhang Pa. “I want to take them into the mountains, to a rural elementary school, the more remote the better.”

The principal shook his head. “That won’t work around here. The provincial capital values education, and even village schools have decent conditions. You’d have to go to the Northwest or Southwest—there are plenty of poverty-stricken schools in the mountains there.”

Zhang Pa gritted his teeth. “Then the Northwest it is.”

“That’s too far. The Southwest is a little closer from here,” the principal said.

“Boss, do you know geography? The Southwest is closer from here?” Zhang Pa asked.

“What do you know?” the principal cursed. “The Northwest is huge… You almost fooled me. No, I don’t approve—no one’s going anywhere.”

“I think it’s doable. If you agree, I’ll find a way to raise the money myself.”

“Raise the money yourself?” The principal laughed and shook his head. “Fine. You have forty-five students—let’s round up to fifty. At two thousand per person, that’s a hundred thousand. Go get a hundred thousand together, then we’ll talk.”

Zhang Pa was frustrated. “Raise the money first, then talk? Could you be any more devious?”

The principal waved him off. “That’s settled.” He turned to leave.

Zhang Pa grabbed his arm. “Boss, you can’t do this. You’re throwing me under the bus.”

“I’m not,” the principal said breezily. “Just don’t take them out. Then there’s no problem and no need for money.”

Zhang Pa was thoroughly disheartened. “Fine, you’re the boss.” He turned toward the classroom.

Suddenly, the principal called after him. “What subject are you good at?”

“Sorry?” Zhang Pa turned back.

“Which subject are you good at? I’m paying you six thousand a month; you should at least teach a few classes. English? I think you could do English—just teaching the alphabet.”

“Are we just going to keep teaching the alphabet forever?” Zhang Pa replied.

“That’s true. Then math? What’s your degree?” the principal asked.

Zhang Pa hung his head and was silent for a while. “I’m good at teaching health and hygiene. Is there such a class?”

“There is, but the health teacher is well-connected—her uncle works at the education bureau. You can’t replace her,” the principal said. “Physics? Chemistry? Out of all these subjects, there’s not one you’re good at?”

“I’m good at PE,” Zhang Pa said.

“PE’s out as well. And the music teacher is even more well-connected—barely acknowledges me,” the principal replied.

“You, as the principal, talking to me about the noble tradition of pulling strings—is that appropriate?” Zhang Pa said helplessly.

“I think it’s fine,” the principal responded. “A lot of things have always been there. Not mentioning them doesn’t mean people don’t know. Just like you want to take your kids to the Southwest to taste hardship—how do you know those kids don’t already get it? The internet’s everywhere. What can’t they see if they want to?”

Zhang Pa sighed. “Boss, you’re really something.” He turned to go, but again the principal called him back. “How about Chinese? You teach Chinese. It’s just reciting poetry and texts, and you’ll only teach your class.” He added, “Even if you don’t teach it well, you can’t do much harm. I trust you.”

What does “can’t do much harm” mean? Zhang Pa was stunned. He turned again. “Are you really the principal? Don’t you care about your students at all?”

“Nonsense!” Principal Qin objected. “If I didn’t care, would I spend six thousand to hire a blockhead like you as a teacher?”

“Boss, you’re refreshingly honest,” Zhang Pa said.

“That’s my strong suit,” the principal replied. “It’s settled. From now on, you’ll teach Chinese to your class.” With that, he walked off.

Zhang Pa looked up, thinking, and suddenly realized the principal was pushing him to really give his all to teaching the kids.

Question: How many steps does it take to put an elephant in a refrigerator? In the same vein, how many steps does it take to get a group of kids who hate studying to start learning?

Step one went well. In just a few days, forty-three out of forty-five students were coming to school every day. Next came step two: forcing them to study.

Who could do that? Not the principal, not the Chinese teacher. Only Zhang Pa.

Principal Qin was a true veteran of the system. He’d made it to principal by knowing how to manage people—an impressive figure.

Realizing this, Zhang Pa didn’t head back to the classroom but hurried after the principal. “Hey, Qin, we need to talk.”

Principal Qin turned and smiled. “I’ve been principal for more than ten years, and you’re the first to call me that.”

Zhang Pa shrugged. “There’ll be more after me.”

The principal glanced at him. “What is it?”

“You’ve already forced me to teach Chinese. Even if we’re haggling, shouldn’t you at least let me take the kids to experience some hardship?” Zhang Pa said.

Principal Qin thought for a moment. “I’ll think about it at home.”

“Alright, you think about it. But if you can’t make up your mind, I’m not teaching Chinese.” Zhang Pa turned and left.

Watching him go, Principal Qin smiled softly, thought a while longer, and then walked away.

Zhang Pa returned to the classroom, glanced at his students, and was about to speak when he turned and saw Principal Qin standing at the door again. He smiled and went out. “You agreed?”

Principal Qin shook his head. “No way. If I agreed to something as absurd as this, I might as well resign.”

Zhang Pa was frustrated. “Then why’d you come back?”

“You can organize a winter camp during the holiday. That way, it has nothing to do with me or the school,” the principal replied.

“But the rural schools are on break too. How can we go experience hardship?” Zhang Pa asked.

“That’s not my problem. It has nothing to do with me,” the principal said.

Zhang Pa thought for a while. “What if all the kids take sick leave together, and I take them out for a few days?”

Principal Qin laughed. “A whole class of forty-five taking sick leave at once? Are you crazy? You want the education bureau to come after me?”

Zhang Pa said, “Tell them it’s an infectious disease.”

The principal was exasperated. “You’re out of your mind.” He turned and walked away.

So, the pair of old and young paced back and forth in the hallway. This time, Zhang Pa chased after the principal. “Boss, can you help me contact the juvenile detention center? I want to take these troublemakers there for a look.”

The principal paused. “That’s doable. Anything else?”

“I want to find a rural school—the more hardship, the better. I’ll have the kids stay there for a week,” Zhang Pa said.

“I’ll think about that,” the principal replied.

“Contact the sanitation department. I’ll have the kids clean the streets.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s it. By your standards, we won’t leave the city, won’t cause trouble, and everything will be safe,” Zhang Pa said.

“Start by contacting the juvenile detention center. Go and coordinate with the Chinese teacher,” the principal said.

“Right. One more thing—if my workload increases, shouldn’t my pay go up too?” Zhang Pa asked.

The principal agreed readily. “Fine. It’ll be calculated by class hour—twelve yuan per lesson.”

“Twelve? Is that the standard?” Zhang Pa asked.

“Be content. That’s already an improvement. A few years ago, it was only a couple of yuan per class. You still have to teach, don’t you?” Principal Qin said. “It’s settled. I’m off.”

“The pay is too low,” Zhang Pa complained.

“If you want more, fine. As long as all the teachers agree, you can have as much as you want—even ten thousand,” the principal replied.

“Don’t push me,” Zhang Pa gritted his teeth.

“You’re the one pushing me! Goodbye,” Principal Qin said, striding away.

Zhang Pa stood there for a long time, then sighed deeply. “In the end, I couldn’t outfox the old fox—I lost badly.”

And wasn’t that the truth? He’d gained nothing he wanted and ended up having to teach Chinese to the kids. Clearly, the principal had no faith in Class Eighteen’s academic prospects at all.

He walked over to the third-year office and found Liu Fangfang. “Ms. Liu, the principal assigned me to take over Chinese for Class Eighteen. I’ve come to learn from you—please teach me how to teach. Don’t hold back.”

Liu Fangfang laughed. “The principal wants you to teach Chinese? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“He’s definitely making things hard for me—just messing with me… Can we stage a revolt?” Zhang Pa asked.

Liu Fangfang said, sure, as long as you’re not afraid of getting fired, go ahead.

Zhang Pa muttered, “Do you have first grade lesson plans?”

“You want to teach first grade material?” Liu Fangfang asked.

“I have to teach everything, alas,” Zhang Pa sighed. “If this keeps up, I’ll be old before I know it.”

“I understand. Go to class for now. I’ll gather everything and bring it to you,” Liu Fangfang said.

“And textbooks—I don’t have anything,” Zhang Pa added.

Liu Fangfang smiled and agreed.

And so, on this Tuesday, a brand-new Chinese teacher was born.