Chapter 112: Fan Jun in Class 21
Extra Chapter 3

“Parents who can’t come to the parent-teacher meeting must personally ask me for leave!” homeroom teacher Old Zhao hammered the podium, raising his voice to try to drown out the buzzing chatter and laughter in the classroom. “Call me personally to request leave!”

“Where are we going? Don’t go to that place we went to yesterday. Didn’t you see the owner’s expression when he saw us? It was hilarious…” Classmate Zhou Junhui, sitting sideways against the wall, had his foot propped on the crossbar of Fan Jun’s chair and was chatting animatedly with Li Shun, who sat behind him.

Fan Jun was lying face-down on his desk, exposing his right ear to listen to Old Zhao.

The chair kept swaying. Whenever Zhou Junhui found something funny, he’d chuckle while kicking Fan Jun’s chair with his foot.

It was extremely irritating.

Fan Jun was already stressed enough because his final exam results were a complete mess and he didn’t know how to handle the upcoming parent-teacher meeting.

Every time Zhou Junhui laughed and kicked his chair—this was probably the dozens-of-times—he’d hook his leg backward and kick Zhou Junhui’s foot off the chair.

Zhou Junhui’s voice would pause for a second, then pick up again. While talking, he’d put his foot back on the chair and continue kicking and trembling with even more force and at a higher frequency.

It was clearly provocation.

Fan Jun stayed lying down, motionless.

Zhou Junhui was a troublemaker. After sitting next to almost every student in the class during the semester, he’d finally been moved to sit beside Fan Jun.

This guy was different from the other classmates. Many students had been with Fan Jun since middle school, and usually no one would deliberately pick on him. They mostly ignored each other; in a whole semester, they might not even exchange ten words.

Fan Jun didn’t know what the teacher was thinking by seating Zhou Junhui next to him. Maybe the teacher thought he could tolerate it.

Anyway, he’d already endured it for almost a month.

This was the last day.

Zhou Junhui kicked again, and this time it wasn’t the chair leg he hit—it was the seat itself, with at least half his foot landing on the side of Fan Jun’s backside.

After enduring Old Zhao’s next few sentences, he could start cleaning.

Once Zhou Junhui’s foot stepped onto Fan Jun’s chair seat, he didn’t take it off again. He just kept pressing and trembling with it.

“So, clean up properly later,” Old Zhao said. “When parents come for the meeting this afternoon, there’ll be a comfortable environment. Not to criticize you, but you’re just as messy at home…”

He thought it was the closing remark, but halfway through, Old Zhao veered onto another long rant.

Zhou Junhui added music to his leg-shaking, humming a tune while shivering.

After enduring this next sentence from Old Zhao…

“Therefore, people still need to develop good habits. You guys…”

Okay, that sentence was done.

Fan Jun stood up.

“What are you doing?” Old Zhao looked at him.

Fan Jun didn’t speak. At this moment, Old Zhao was facing his left ear, which he couldn’t hear well anyway.

He stepped out of his seat, turned around, grabbed Zhou Junhui’s right ankle—the foot still on his chair—and pulled it outward.

“What are you doing?!” Zhou Junhui, half-reclined on the chair after being yanked, shouted.

Li Shun laughed oddly, leaned over the desk, and craned forward to watch the spectacle.

Fan Jun didn’t speak. He pulled again.

Zhou Junhui braced his hands against the desks in front and behind, trying to pull himself back using the momentum, but Fan Jun didn’t let go. He pulled once more, and this time Zhou Junhui fell flat on the chair.

“Fan Jun! What are you doing?!” Old Zhao shouted, walking down from the podium.

But the classroom environment was complicated: none of the desks and chairs were aligned, and everyone was standing up now, so no one made way for Old Zhao. He circled the podium twice but couldn’t get close.

“He’s asking for it!” Zhou Junhui, with his left leg still uncontrolled, kicked at Fan Jun’s hand gripping his ankle.

Fan Jun pulled again, and Zhou Junhui’s left leg instantly kicked air.

Zhou Junhui didn’t give up—he couldn’t, not in front of the whole class.

No one tried to stop the fight; everyone was just watching.

He kept kicking, but every time he kicked out, Fan Jun pulled his leg, making each kick feel like it was helping Fan Jun.

After a few pulls, Fan Jun had dragged him out from the seat by the wall.

Zhou Junhui managed to sit up slightly, reaching out to grab Fan Jun’s wrist.

But Fan Jun pulled again. Not only did Zhou Junhui fall back onto his rear, but Fan Jun also pulled him off the chair completely, and he landed with a thud on the floor.

People nearby burst into laughter.

Fan Jun finally let go.

Zhou Junhui jumped up from the floor, bumped into a nearby desk, and threw two punches at Fan Jun—one with his left hand, one with his right.

They were incredibly slow.

If Lu Shu were here, he’d call these “crab punches.”

His arms, waist, back, and core were all weak and powerless. He swung his fists in a huge circle, taking forever to bring them back, while his face was completely open. One punch could knock him flat on his back with his arms spread.

But Fan Jun gave him face. After blocking left and right with his arms, he pushed Zhou Junhui in the chest.

Zhou Junhui landed with a thud on the chair behind him.

Laughter erupted around them again.

Zhou Junhui bounced up and punched Fan Jun in the face again.

Fan Jun swatted his fist away and pushed him in the chest once more. Zhou Junhui sat back down on the chair again.

On the third try, Zhou Junhui didn’t even get to stand up straight. As soon as he moved, Fan Jun pushed him back.

Only at this point, Li Shun—who had been chatting fiery-hot with Zhou Junhui as if they were best friends for years—finally had enough fun watching. Smiling, he reached out and grabbed Zhou Junhui, who was trying to get up again.

He slapped Zhou Junhui’s shoulder hard, making loud thumping sounds, laughing and shouting, “Enough, enough. You can’t beat him. His family runs a martial arts studio. Everyone in this area knows that…”

Zhou Junhui said something.

The classroom was very noisy by now, so Fan Jun didn’t catch what he said. The brim of his hat blocked his vision, and he couldn’t see Zhou Junhui’s lip movements, so he lifted his head and looked at Zhou Junhui.

“What?” he asked.

Zhou Junhui glared at him without speaking.

Looks like he was cursing.

So Fan Jun didn’t press further.

By this time, Old Zhao finally squeezed through the crowd and arrived beside them. He first pushed Fan Jun, then pushed Zhou Junhui, pushing Zhou Junhui—who was just about to stand up—back onto the chair yet again.

“Fuck!” Zhou Junhui swore very loudly this time.

“Parent-teacher meeting this afternoon! Both of your parents must show up!” Old Zhao pointed at them in turn.

The spectacle ended. No one in the class listened to Old Zhao’s scolding anymore; everyone started packing up and leaving the classroom.

“Clean up!” Old Zhao shouted. “Clean up! Don’t run off!”

Fan Jun didn’t run. He straightened the desks and chairs around him, and when he looked up, only he, four girls, two boys, and Old Zhao remained in the classroom.

“…Forget it,” Old Zhao sighed heavily and waved his hand. “You guys, work hard. Put the desks and chairs in order, then you can leave.”

As Old Zhao was speaking, the boy closest to the door had already silently turned and walked out.

Fan Jun didn’t speak. As he walked, he pushed each messy desk back to its place, then kicked the chairs back under the tables.

The remaining five classmates half-heartedly started dragging the tables, and Old Zhao joined them in arranging the desks and chairs, sighing and groaning.

When they were almost finished, someone ran to the classroom door and shouted, “Fan Jun! Is your dog at the school gate?”

Fan Jun paused, looked up at the person at the door, and tried to confirm whether he’d heard correctly.

When he left home, the dog was tied up in the yard.

“The Doberman with one bent ear, wearing a muzzle,” the person at the door gestured. “Is that yours?”

Xiao Bai’s ear hadn’t stood up properly because it was cropped too late; the right ear was still floppy. Based on that description, it was definitely Xiao Bai.

“Yeah,” he replied, grabbed nothing from the desk, and ran out immediately.

Xiao Bai had a very good temperament, but was large and looked quite scary.

If the dog had shown up at their school gate and scared someone, it would be a big problem. Moreover, given the attitude of the students at their school, Xiao Bai might even get beaten.

Fan Jun ran downstairs at full speed, faster even than Lu Ze chasing him from behind. Before he was even close to the school gate, he could already see a large crowd gathered.

His heart immediately sank. He rushed toward the gate.

Xiao Bai’s original owner was a neighbor from the nearby small street. The family’s big dog had given birth to a litter, and only Xiao Bai remained. The puppy had survived distemper by the skin of its teeth but was very weak and couldn’t be sold. The owner was planning to give it away for free to guard a warehouse.

Fan Jun had begged Uncle Lu to help him get the dog back. He’d raised it for a year, and now it had slowly recovered. It had taken a lot of effort and quite a bit of money.

If trouble arose or something went wrong, Fan Jun didn’t know what he’d do.

“It didn’t bite you! It didn’t even move!”

As Fan Jun ran out of the school gate, he heard a girl raising her voice.

At the same time, through the gaps in the crowd, he saw Xiao Bai, wearing a muzzle, standing pressed against a tree.

“Move aside.” He pushed aside the people in front of him.

The person he pushed aside made an annoyed “tsk” sound, shook his arm, and glanced back at him.

Then he stepped aside.

Two high school seniors, probably from Grade 12, held brooms, blocking Xiao Bai’s path on the left and right. An unfamiliar girl stood in front of the dog.

“Is that your dog? You’re controlling quite a lot,” one of the boys said.

“Is that your dog?” the girl flicked her hair. “You’re controlling quite a lot too, aren’t you?”

Fan Jun whistled.

Xiao Bai, standing beside the tree, immediately lifted his head, and the right ear that had only half stood up straightened completely.

Then he ran toward Fan Jun.

One senior raised his broom as if to throw it at the dog. Fan Jun stepped forward to intercept, pointing at him with one hand while grabbing the short handle on Xiao Bai’s chest harness with the other.

The person paused, lowered the hand holding the broom, and asked, “Is that your dog?”

“Yeah.” Fan Jun replied, then pulled Xiao Bai and started walking toward the martial arts studio. Passing by the girl, he said, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” The girl waved her hand.

“Keep your dog under control,” the senior said. He wouldn’t fight Fan Jun, but he still wanted to say something. “Today you got here fast. If you’d been any later, the dog would be dead.”

Fan Jun paused, turned his head, and said, “Try it.”

“Try it?” the senior scoffed. “Your dog runs around loose, and you think you’re in the right?”

“I’m not in the right,” Fan Jun said.

The senior opened his mouth, but the prepared words didn’t quite match his answer, so he couldn’t say them.

“Try it.” Fan Jun repeated.

Seeing that Fan Jun didn’t intend to continue, he turned and left.

Xiao Bai was probably scared, sticking close to Fan Jun’s leg as they walked, taking tiny steps with his head down.

Actually, Leash wasn’t necessary at this point, but to avoid scaring passersby, Fan Jun kept holding the chest harness handle and spoke softly to Xiao Bai: “How did you get out? Didn’t I tell you that when I’m not home, you should stay in the yard and not run around?”

Xiao Bai whimpered twice.

“Didn’t I tie you up? How did you undo the rope?” Fan Jun asked, looking down at him. “Today you were lucky. If a dog this big runs out without a leash, people might beat it to death, and I’d have to accept it. Do you understand? It could die.”

Xiao Bai looked up at him, his eyes looking pitiful.

“Pretending like this won’t help,” Fan Jun said, pushing his head back down. “It’s best if no one finds out you ran out. Otherwise, neither of us will make it today. You run around blindly, and I fail a bunch of subjects on my final exams…”

“It must be those kids who untied the rope while playing with it!” Uncle Lu frowned. “Tomorrow, change to a chain for him, the kind with screw locks. More secure. He’s bigger now.”

“Yeah.” Fan Jun replied.

“Train him when you have time, too,” Uncle Lu said. “They say this dog has good obedience and can be trained.”

“Okay.” Fan Jun nodded.

“Is it parent-teacher meeting this afternoon?” Uncle Lu asked.

Fan Jun cleared his throat: “Yeah. Can you…?”

It would be best if Uncle Lu could go. He had a good temper and wouldn’t scold Fan Jun much.

“Lu Ze should go instead,” Uncle Lu said. “He’s back from holiday anyway, and I have a bunch of classes at the studio this afternoon.”

“…Oh.” Fan Jun felt like he was dead.

“How were your grades this time?” Uncle Lu placed several washed plums in front of him.

Fan Jun picked one up, took a bite, and didn’t speak.

“Looks like not so good,” Uncle Lu sighed. “With grades like yours… Can you even hear the teacher in class?”

“I can hear clearly,” Fan Jun said.

Uncle Lu sighed again, stayed silent for a while, then patted his shoulder: “It’s okay. Whether you go to college or not, your family won’t let you starve.”

Won’t starve, but might get beaten.

In the afternoon, Lu Ze went to attend the parent-teacher meeting for him.

It had been over an hour, and Fan Jun had been sitting on a small stone墩 at the entrance of the martial arts studio, staring at the road toward the school.

About two hours later, Lu Ze appeared on a bicycle from the other end of the road.

Backlit, Lu Ze’s facial expression was hard to see. Fan Jun kept staring until Lu Ze was less than twenty meters away, then he suddenly saw Lu Ze glaring at him with a face full of anger.

He immediately jumped up and ran in the opposite direction.

“Run!” Lu Ze followed on his bicycle, catching up within seconds. “Now you know how to run!”

Fan Jun didn’t speak, just ran with his head down.

Although he knew there was no way he could outrun Lu Ze on a bicycle.

“Do you know how many subjects you failed?” Lu Ze shouted right behind Fan Jun’s head. “Old Zhao said you even beat someone up today! I’ve told you so many times! I didn’t practice Sanda for you to hit people!”

Fan Jun continued running silently.

“I already said I didn’t want to go to your stupid parent-teacher meeting. Every time I go, I get scolded!” Lu Ze’s voice was right at the back of his head. “What are you even thinking about sitting in that classroom every day!”

I don’t know.

Maybe just purely stupid.

Fan Jun adjusted his breathing, turned at the intersection ahead—this road was easier to run on.

“Fine, you run,” Lu Ze said. “You run. Let’s see how long you can keep it up. I’ll time you.”

Fan Jun sighed.

He should have known not to get up for morning run this morning. Save that energy for now.

Half an hour.

Lu Ze chased Fan Jun on his bicycle around the North Small Street area, completing two big loops.

Finally, they returned to the entrance of the martial arts studio, where Uncle Lu was standing.

“Still chasing and beating him?” Uncle Lu asked.

“Who’s beating him!” Lu Ze got off the bike, leaned it against the wall. “Ask him yourself. Doesn’t he deserve a beating?”

“How long did you run?” Uncle Lu asked again.

“Half an hour.” Fan Jun replied.

“That’s enough,” Uncle Lu said. “About the same energy expenditure as getting beaten…”

“With his physical condition, running half an hour means nothing. Some energy expenditure? What does that have to do with anything?” Lu Ze entered the courtyard. “You always spoil him like this. If it were me, you’d have broken two bamboo sticks already!”

Uncle Lu smiled but didn’t speak.

Fan Jun went to the kitchen to wash his face. He was hungry from running, so he opened the fridge to look for something to eat.

Lu Ze suddenly walked in, and Fan Jun quickly closed the fridge door again.

Lu Ze didn’t say anything else either. He just threw Fan Jun’s report card onto the table and turned to leave.

Fan Jun sighed with relief, reopened the fridge, took out a small piece of steamed sausage, and took a bite.

Xiao Bai smelled it and came in, sitting beside him.

“You can’t eat this,” Fan Jun reached into his pocket, pulled out a dog biscuit, and threw it to the dog. “Behave.”

After eating the biscuit, Xiao Bai lay down beside Fan Jun’s feet, resting his snout on his shoe.

Fan Jun finished the sausage, sighed, and looked down at the dog: “Is being a dog pretty good?”

Xiao Bai didn’t respond.

“Do dogs think about the future, Bai?” Fan Jun whispered. “I… never thought about it. Never… thought about it.”

Xiao Bai looked up at him but didn’t speak.

“Never mind, you don’t understand.” Fan Jun leaned back in the chair, staring at the tree shadows in the courtyard, lost in thought.