Chapter 115: Teacher Zou’s Little Daily Life
Extra Chapter 6

Zou Yang yawned as he walked into the office and almost bumped his forehead straight into the doorframe.

“Teacher Zou? Up this early again?” Teacher Chen, who was leaning over his desk eating breakfast, looked up at him and asked.

“Good morning, Teacher Chen.” Zou Yang greeted him, sat down at his desk, took off his glasses, rubbed his face, and yawned again.

“Didn’t rest well last night?” Teacher Chen asked.

“Every day is like this.” Zou Yang smiled.

Teacher Chen was an older man who came to school very early one or two days every week because he had to take his wife to the park to dance.

Every time he arrived early, his conversation with Zou Yang was exactly the same, like copy-paste. Sometimes Zou Yang felt like he was trapped in a loop of the same day.

If things went as usual, Teacher Chen would next ask…

“Have you had breakfast?”

As expected.

Zou Yang smiled: “I already ate.”

“Oh.” Teacher Chen nodded.

Usually the conversation ended there.

Zou Yang glanced at the time, casually tidied up the things on his desk, stood up, and prepared to go to the classroom.

As soon as he entered the school, he could already hear several boys from his class laughing and shouting and playing roughly in the hallway.

Zou Yang tried hard to recall his own high school life from just a few years ago, and felt that back then, he never had such a lively, energetic state of mind so early in the morning.

And this noise definitely wouldn’t disappear when the morning self-study bell rang.

Homeroom teacher Teacher Zou had already been standing outside the classroom for a long time. The bell had already rung, but the people chatting in the hallway were completely unaffected.

A boy nicknamed “The Director” came sprinting out of the back door of the classroom, laughing and shouting, then turned around and ran straight into Zou Yang.

Zou Yang sidestepped. As “The Director” brushed past him, he saw Zou Yang, stumbled slightly from embarrassment, and Zou Yang reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Thanks, Old Zou,” “The Director” said.

Before Zou Yang could speak, another boy burst out of the classroom, holding a broom and waving it over his head. He didn’t care who was outside; as soon as he saw someone, he swung the broom toward them.

Zou Yang was still holding “The Director’s” arm, so he casually pulled him in front of himself, blocking the broom.

“Damn!” “The Director” shouted. “Old Zou, that’s not friendly!”

“Go inside.” Zou Yang said.

“We’re on duty,” “The Director” said. “The hallway hasn’t been swept yet.”

“Sweep it in two minutes.” Zou Yang said.

“Almost done.” “The Director” picked up the broom and swept wildly along both sides of the hallway. The corridor, which had looked reasonably normal at first glance, suddenly kicked up a cloud of dust.

Everyone chatting in the hallway cursed at the same time and all went into the classroom.

At least there was some positive effect.

Zou Yang sighed and quickly slipped into the classroom himself.

This morning was English self-study. After assigning the morning self-study tasks, English Teacher Tang stood beside the podium, staring blankly at the students below, completely motionless—whether lost in thought or asleep, no one knew.

Zou Yang stood at the back of the classroom, watching the people who had just been chatting energetically now half-deadly pull out their books and emit a complex mess of mumbling.

This class was one Zou Yang had taken over this semester. It was second-to-last in the grade.

The very last was Teacher Chen’s class, but at this moment he probably hadn’t even finished breakfast yet.

They say you should avoid taking over a “second-hand” class if possible, but as a brand-new teacher, after the principal talked to him three times in a row, Zou Yang really couldn’t push it off anymore and had to grit his teeth and agree.

After “The Director” and his duty partner finished waving dust in the hallway, they returned to the classroom.

As soon as they sat down in the back row, “The Director” turned around and looked at Zou Yang: “Old Zou, Old Zou.”

Zou Yang glanced at him but didn’t speak.

“Is it true you practiced Sanda before?” “The Director” asked.

“Don’t believe or spread rumors.” Zou Yang reached out, grabbed the top of his head, and turned his face back toward his book.

“Master Chen said,” another boy beside him turned around again. “You brought boxing gloves to the office last week, right?”

Last week, Zou Yang had made plans with Fan Jun to take Liu Wenrui and the others to the boxing gym to challenge Tie Bang and Tan Ru, just to relax. Master Chen probably saw his boxing gloves that day…

This old man isn’t great at managing a class, but he chats about everything with the students.

“Talk about it after class.” After saying that, Zou Yang stopped standing in place and started walking around the classroom.

He noted down who was absent and who was late, then… tapped the desk for the ones reading novels, tapped the desk for the ones sleeping, tapped the desk for the ones chatting, and for the ones rushing their homework… never mind, let them off for now.

After Zou Yang walked around the classroom a few times, the chaotic classroom finally regained some order.

He went back to the back of the classroom and leaned against the wall, trying hard to stay awake before the next bell rang, forcing himself not to fall asleep standing there right in front of Teacher Tang.

However, after morning self-study ended, he didn’t leave immediately. He had promised a few students they’d talk after class, and he had to keep that promise.

“The Director” and a few other boys were looking at him with full expectation.

“Waiting for me?” Zou Yang walked over and leaned against the desk.

“Is it true? You’re still hiding it from us?” “The Director” said. “We’re going to spend day and night together anyway.”

“Spending day and night together isn’t exactly by my choice either.” Zou Yang said.

“This is the consequence of not taking the graduate entrance exam,” Zhou Yuxuan beside him pushed up his glasses and educated him in a very mature tone. “Look at that new teacher who came before. He’s a graduate student, so he could choose a good class. Look at you, an undergraduate—you can only take a class like ours, the bottom-ranked one.”

Zou Yang couldn’t help laughing and pushed up his glasses too.

There was actually nothing wrong with that statement.

“Idiot.” “The Director” expressed his evaluation of Zhou Yuxuan, then turned back to Zou Yang. “Old Zou, spar with me sometime.”

“Spar about what?” Zou Yang asked.

“Whoa!” “The Director” mimicked a couple of fighting moves in the air.

Several boys immediately burst into laughter.

For a moment, Zou Yang felt like he saw Zhang Chuanlong.

“Say something practical.” Zou Yang said.

“This is practical. I learned a little over winter break,” “The Director” said.

Zou Yang sighed, looked at him for a while, raised his right hand, palm facing him: “Punch it.”

“The Director” immediately got excited, raised his eyebrows, and stood up: “You said it.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang smiled.

“The Director” held both fists in front of his face, jumped twice in place. His stance showed he had learned something—at least he knew how to get into position—but he was truly only at the “learned a little” level.

After jumping twice, “The Director” threw a punch at Zou Yang’s palm.

The speed and power of this punch were both lacking; it relied purely on his arm pushing forward.

“Slap!”

Before Zou Yang could speak, “The Director” swung out a second punch.

After “The Director” threw his punch, Zou Yang withdrew his hand and, brushing past his fist, punched back. Before “The Director’s” punch could land, Zou Yang’s fist had already touched his chin.

“Damn.” “The Director” suddenly tucked his chin in. “You’re cheating.”

“Who?” Zou Yang asked.

“Him,” Wang Siyuan, who had also been eager to try, put down his raised fist, pointed at “The Director,” then looked at him. “Old Zou is much faster than you.”

“Not necessarily!” “The Director” was unconvinced.

“Switch?” Zou Yang said.

“No,” “The Director” shook his head. “Let me practice a bit more first.”

“Use your free time to practice the homework you owe.” Zou Yang said.

“So boring, ruining the mood,” “The Director” flopped back into his chair and swayed. “My parents don’t even bother managing me anymore.”

Zou Yang didn’t speak. Several files of problem students flashed quickly through his mind.

“The Director’s” parents were divorced. He had grown up with his grandparents. For some reason, either physical or psychological, he kept running to the bathroom whenever nothing was going on, so people gave him the nickname “The Director”…

In front of a bunch of students, Zou Yang couldn’t say too much. He just patted his shoulder.

“Old Zou, where did you practice?” Wang Siyuan asked.

Zou Yang was still thinking about “The Director’s” situation and didn’t react immediately: “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. Where did you practice?” Wang Siyuan struck a pose. “I’ll go too. Introduce me to your coach. I think you train pretty well.”

That’s impossible.
My coach is a专属 private coach.

“Usually coaches like this charge high fees,” Zhou Yuxuan pushed up his glasses. “With your spending power, even delivering food for an entire summer might not buy you a few classes. Unless you want to develop in this direction…”

“You’re the richest,” Wang Siyuan slapped the back of his head. “You’re so rich you only eat steamed buns for lunch.”

“This kind of behavior is very low…” Zhou Yuxuan said.

When Wang Siyuan slapped him again, Zou Yang caught his hand.

“What do you want!” Wang Siyuan looked at him. “He’s mocking and making fun of me. Can’t I fight back?”

“Manage your hands,” Zou Yang felt his brain hurting. “He manages his mouth.”

“That’s hard for both,” “The Director” said.

The class prep bell rang at just the right moment.

Zou Yang sighed, pushed Wang Siyuan back to his seat, turned around, and walked to the side of the podium, looking at the students in the class.

He could basically call everyone by name now. For the few who needed special attention, their files were memorized inside out. But when he was a student himself, he really hadn’t noticed whether there were this many problem students in his class…

This school now gave him a strong feeling of Class 21.

…How would Fan Jun have been described in the homeroom teacher’s files back then?

The class bell rang. The noise in the classroom slowly died down, but the few people chatting in the hallway remained unaffected, only turning their bodies to face the direction of the classroom.

Zou Yang waited five seconds, walked to the front door of the classroom, and looked at the three boys who, although they had stopped chatting, had no intention of entering the classroom yet.

After a brief eye contact, two of them slowly stretched and walked into the classroom.

One stubbornly stood still where he was.

This guy was considered a semi-troublemaker in class. Zou Yang had talked to him before, but it had no effect. He basically gave the cold shoulder, silent and unresponsive—but he hadn’t been this stubborn before.

Today, he probably ran into something that upset him. Zou Yang walked over in that direction.

Just as he was almost in front of him, the semi-troublemaker suddenly moved, swayed his shoulders, and entered the classroom through the back door.

Damn it!

Zou Yang suppressed his anger, entered the classroom through the back door himself, and closed the door.

Back at the podium, Zou Yang didn’t start the lesson immediately. He just stood silently, looking down at the students.

After about two minutes, the people whispering quietly and the ones constantly moving around slowly quieted down.

“This isn’t the first day of school, and we’re not just getting to know each other,” Zou Yang began. “I’ve never forcibly required everyone to be in a certain state during class. After all, we’re not that close yet. But respect is mutual. Teachers respect your feelings, and you also have to respect the teacher’s feelings. That’s the bare minimum of politeness.”

There was hardly any sound below. Most of the students were looking at him.

“Now I’ll only make one small request,” Zou Yang said while lowering his head to turn on the projector and prepare for class. “If there’s a class you temporarily don’t want to attend, you can tell me. My office is right next door. I’ve given you all my phone number and WeChat. As long as you think your reason can convince yourself, I’ll agree…”

Zou Yang lifted his head and scanned the room: “If you don’t attend class, there are two choices. One: stand outside the classroom. Two: sit in my office. Don’t worry—no matter which choice you make, I won’t lecture you on big principles.”

There was a very low murmur of conversation below.

“If there’s any problem, you can ask directly.” Zou Yang said.

“Old… Teacher Zou,” a boy asked, “what if we’re outside for a while and then want to go back in?”

“This is also something you need to figure out. You need to be responsible for your own choices. If you want to go back in halfway, it will affect others listening to the class,” Zou Yang said. “Don’t affect others. That’s also basic politeness… Any other questions?”

No one spoke again.

“Okay then. Let’s start class.” Zou Yang said.

“Teacher Zou, I have one question,” Fan Jun said, sitting in front of the tea table. “What if a student doesn’t want to attend class and just doesn’t, and you get complained about?”

“No student is willing to stand in the hallway for an entire class, and even fewer are willing to sit in the teacher’s office for an entire class. Even if there are some, it’ll only be once or twice.” Zou Yang’s voice carried the sound of wind; you could tell he was on the move.

Fan Jun smiled and glanced at the several car price inquiry sheets placed beside him.

“What if someone complains after just one class like that?” he asked.

“Then I’ll quit. This kind of job that just boils your brain and makes you suffer—anyone who wants to do it can,” Zou Yang said. “I’ll go home and lie down. You’ll support me.”

“Mm,” Fan Jun replied. “Okay.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Zou Yang asked.

“Hm?” Fan Jun’s hand paused while brewing tea. He was a bit unwell. For some reason, his head hurt a bit.

“Your voice sounds half-dead, even worse than mine.” Zou Yang said.

“Isn’t this how I always talk?” Fan Jun said.

“It’s different. I can tell.” Zou Yang made a “tss” sound.

“I have a headache,” Fan Jun sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What did you eat this morning?” Zou Yang immediately asked.

“What does that have to do with eating?” Fan Jun said. “Even if I ate shit, it wouldn’t cause a headache, right?”

“…If you really ate that, it would actually cause a headache.” Zou Yang said.

Fan Jun laughed.

“Do you have a fever?” Zou Yang asked.

“No fever.” Fan Jun touched his forehead.

“Then it must be because you miss me.” Zou Yang thought for a moment, then became a bit unhappy. “If you already have a headache, why are you still at the shop?”

“Today He Chuan took people to the calligraphy and painting institute to set up an exhibition. We still have to keep an eye on both shops here,” Fan Jun said. “He Lu is busy over there too.”

“Hire someone. Master He doesn’t want to hire, but Master Fan can hire.” Zou Yang said.

“The shop that Master Fan can make decisions about already has someone hired.” Fan Jun said with a smile.

“Next time just close the door directly,” Zou Yang said. “He himself closes the shop sometimes when there’s nothing to do.”

“Okay.” Fan Jun replied.

In less than twenty minutes, Zou Yang pushed open the shop door.

Wrapped in the cool air of early spring at dusk, he walked in quickly.

“Are you here all day today?” He walked over to the tea table and first reached out to touch Fan Jun’s forehead. “Damn, it’s so hot.”

“Your hand is so cold.” Fan Jun spoke at the same time.

“Is my hand cold?” Zou Yang smiled, touched his own neck, and inhaled sharply. “Sss…”

“What do you want to eat?” Fan Jun stood up and hugged him.

“Let’s go try that newly opened dumpling restaurant. It’s closer. I’m so hungry I want to gnaw on the table.” Zou Yang leaned against him, then quickly stood straight and reached up to rub his head.

“If you have time earlier, eat something.” Fan Jun said.

“I want to eat with you.” Zou Yang said.

“How long are you going to be homeroom teacher?” Fan Jun hugged him again. “You’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

“Impossible,” Zou Yang laughed. “I’m way better off than Li Zhiyue. Our school doesn’t even have boarding. Their school has boarding. He has to check the dorms before he can leave…哎…”

On the way to eat dumplings, Zou Yang stopped at a pharmacy and bought a box of painkillers for Fan Jun: “Take it when you’re eating.”

“It’s not necessary,” Fan Jun said. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Take it when it hurts. Why endure it?” Zou Yang glanced at him.

“…I don’t know.” Fan Jun smiled.

Suddenly he realized he indeed didn’t know, but at many times he did think avoiding pain wasn’t something he should do…

“Nothing hurts that you must endure.” Zou Yang said.

“Mm.” Fan Jun reached out and put his arm around Zou Yang’s shoulder.

After eating, they got home past ten o’clock. Zou Yang lay on the sofa and rubbed his stomach: “After we move in the summer, I won’t have to… on the road like this…”

“We’ll move right after the renovation is done,” Fan Jun interrupted him. “We won’t wait until summer. You’re running such a long distance every day, it’s too tiring.”

“I didn’t manage the renovation, but I should at least participate in the move.” Zou Yang said.

“You only need to participate in buying the house.” Fan Jun said.

Zou Yang smiled: “Then you’ll have a longer commute to work.”

“I don’t have to go to work before six something.” Fan Jun sighed.

“You’re provoking me.” Zou Yang grabbed Dahei, hugged him, put his legs on Xiao Bai, and swung them back and forth. “Do you have any popsicles? The dumplings were too salty.”

“There are…” Fan Jun hadn’t finished speaking when Zou Yang, who had just sat down, got up again and walked to the refrigerator. “From last summer.”

Zou Yang’s hand on the refrigerator door paused for a moment, then he still opened it and rummaged through the freezer: “Whatever. Frozen stuff, I default to assuming it never spoils.”

Xiao Bai stood up propped against the refrigerator, his nose busy following Zou Yang’s hand.

“Let me order you a cake or something for delivery.” Fan Jun took out his phone.

Zou Yang didn’t speak. He still stood in front of the refrigerator, but he put Dahei on top of the fridge.

Xiao Bai made a “hn” sound.

“What’s wrong?” Fan Jun put down his phone and walked over.

Zou Yang was holding a small transparent plastic box. Fan Jun was stunned for a moment, then quickly reached out and took the box from him, a bit embarrassed: “Why did you dig this out…”

“Why are you still keeping this?” Zou Yang turned around, and his eyes were already red.

“Hey, why are you…” Fan Jun put the box back into the freezer and hugged Zou Yang, gently patting his back. “Don’t cry.”

“Why are you still keeping this?” Zou Yang lowered his head and pressed his eyes onto Fan Jun’s shoulder, asking again, his voice trembling.

“It’s in the freezer, so it won’t spoil anyway.” Fan Jun smiled.

“Why are you still keeping this…” Zou Yang repeated again, his voice now clearly carrying a crying tone.

“I think it’s very meaningful,” Fan Jun said softly. “So I kept it.”

“Is that so?” Zou Yang hugged his waist very tightly.

“Mm,” Fan Jun nodded. “From now on, a smooth road. From now on, a smooth road.”