131 Launching Late Tonight

After finishing his call with the commissioning editor, Zhang Pa began his work. At four o'clock in the afternoon, he took his flash drive, bank card, national ID, and the two hundred thousand yuan and headed out.

His first stop was the bank to open a separate account for a one-year fixed deposit. He felt a slight irritation when he saw the interest rate was only two percent. The bank teller told him that it had actually risen slightly today, as it had been 1.8 percent just a few days prior.

Zhang Pa deliberated for a moment and decided to just lock it away for a year, pretending the money didn't exist. Thus, two thick bundles of cash were transformed into a single thin card.

There was a minor interlude: after he had inquired about the interest rate, a man in his late twenties approached him with feathery enthusiasm. "Looking to open a fixed deposit, are you?"

The man was dressed just like the bank staff, so at first, Zhang Pa didn't realize anything was amiss and answered in the affirmative.

"We currently have a special promotion for savings accounts; the interest rate can reach 4.5 percent. Do you have your ID with you?" the young man asked, getting straight to the point without any fluff.

Zhang Pa looked at him, then back at the female teller he had just spoken to. She had said two percent, while he claimed 4.5 percent. "What's this all about?" he asked.

The man immediately tried to steer him toward a side counter. "Please, have a seat. If you're interested, we can process it right here." He seemed eager to explain in detail.

Zhang Pa shook his head and asked the female teller again, "What is the fixed deposit interest rate?"

"Two percent," she replied, ignoring the man's interjection.

Zhang Pa immediately understood; it was likely some obscure investment product. It was quite bold, though—wearing a bank uniform, working from a side counter, and mimicking the deposit process, save for the specific forms and the nature of the account. If an elderly person had been in his shoes, confused and unsuspecting, they might well have fallen for it.

Fortunately, his number was called at the main counter. Zhang Pa told the young man he wasn't interested and resigned himself to the two percent rate. Before finalizing the deposit, he made sure to ask, "This is a standard bank fixed deposit, right?"

With the banking done, he went to a print shop to copy his contract—fifty cents a page, two copies—and photocopied his ID, making sure both sides were on the same sheet. Another task complete.

Miao Zili had said he wanted to see him that evening, though knowing the character of those people, he certainly wouldn't be paying for a meal. Zhang Pa checked the time and went to the market to buy some food.

Just as he stepped through his door, his phone rang. It was Principal Qin. "Little Zhang, you really should put more effort into your professional development."

Zhang Pa asked what he meant.

The principal sighed. "The midterm exams. Forget about passing or failing—you’ve produced a genuine prodigy in your class."

"Did they do exceptionally well?" Zhang Pa asked, surprised.

"Exceptionally well," the principal replied. "They achieved a perfect zero."

Zhang Pa’s first reaction was, "Did they not take the test?" But then he realized that couldn't be right; he had been there for the first day of monitoring, and all forty-six students were present.

"I’ve truly seen a miracle," the principal continued. "The fill-in-the-blanks, the true-or-false, the multiple choice—all filled out, and yet not a single one correct. It’s like this for every subject. I just want to ask, how did you manage to cultivate such a talent?"

Zhang Pa burst out laughing. "Not even a single lucky guess? That’s a talent in itself."

"It’s certainly a talent," the principal continued. "Out of the forty-six students in your class, not one passed. Not even a single subject. The class average is twenty."

"Is that out of one hundred and fifty?" Zhang Pa asked.

"What do you think?" the principal replied, sounding utterly dejected. "When you're stuck with a group of students like this, it’s bad enough that they fail, but they also refuse to cheat. Should I call them lazy, or honest?"

Zhang Pa chuckled. "They’re all people of great capability."

The principal sighed. "Come by when you have a chance. Call me before you arrive; you need to collect your salary."

"Right, I get a salary for being a teacher. I’d forgotten," Zhang Pa said. "How much is it?"

The principal hesitated before asking, "Have you offended someone?"

Zhang Pa admitted that was a certainty.

"Can you reconcile?" the principal asked. "To be honest, if you don't come back to teach, I’m afraid Class 18 will simply fall apart."

"I don't have a teaching certificate," Zhang Pa noted. "Will that be a problem?"

"The certificate isn't the point. What matters is having someone to protect you," the principal said. "I’ve reached out to a few people these past two days, and they say your situation is difficult to resolve. You need to find a way. Just think of the forty-six students in Class 18—you wouldn't want to see them end up in a detention center or prison, would you? For the sake of these children, swallow your pride, okay? Or, I can go with you to apologize."

Zhang Pa remained silent.

"I know," the principal added. "Young people are hot-blooded; they can't stand being wronged. I’m the same way. But in this life, there are always things you have to give and take. Just for the sake of those forty-six children, for the sake of forty-six lives that can still be shaped, endure this grievance and spend a year with them, will you?"

Zhang Pa gave a bitter smile. "I should have recorded this. After that bunch of hoodlums at school graduates and grows up, I could play it back for them."

Principal Qin said, "The problem is that things are stalled at the Education Bureau. If the official in charge doesn't give the word, you can never teach. What happened? Tell me, let’s analyze it and get it resolved."

Zhang Pa paused before asking, "Have you been trying to help me with this all these days?"

"I'm not helping you; I'm helping the children. Besides, I haven't done much—just made a few calls," the principal said nonchalantly.

Zhang Pa smiled. "Fine. I’ll go apologize to those bastards."

"Will that be too much of a grievance for you?" the principal asked.

"Not at all," Zhang Pa replied. "Anyone can make me feel wronged, but there are some people who never will."

"Just be mindful of your methods," the principal cautioned.

"Don't worry," Zhang Pa said. "I know what to do."

"Good. Come back and pick up your salary when you’re free," the principal said.

Zhang Pa agreed and hung up the phone. He sat in a daze for a moment, ate his meal, and then opened his document to work.

Before long, Old Pi and the other four "monkeys" returned, knocking on the door. "Big Brother, did you have surgery?"

"You're just dying for me to go under the knife, aren't you?" Zhang Pa asked.

Old Pi chuckled. "No, no." He looked at the lunchbox on the stool and asked, "Are you—?"

"Yes," Zhang Pa said. "And you guys are truly impressive—your exam results have broken through the ceiling."

"Did we do that well?" Old Pi asked, reaching for the food.

"You did remarkably well—all of you are below sea level. Get lost," Zhang Pa scolded.

Old Pi laughed and turned to leave. Outside, Madman remarked, "Good thing we didn't go in, or we would’ve gotten an earful."

Looking at the closed door, Zhang Pa felt an inexplicable gloom. Suddenly, he remembered that Wang Zhongxing was in the provincial capital today, so he quickly called Liu Xiaomei. "Wang Zhongxing is back today. Has he been to see you?"

"He's back again? How annoying," Liu Xiaomei said.

"School's out, right?" Zhang Pa asked.

"Yes, I'm eating at home," she replied.

"Which home? The dorm?" Zhang Pa asked again.

"Yes, the dorm," she said. "Are you afraid something will happen to me? It won't."

Zhang Pa said, "Keep the door locked. If anyone knocks, call me immediately."

Liu Xiaomei said she understood, then added, "I've said it a thousand times: if we lived together, you could protect me."

"I'll listen to you," Zhang Pa said. "On Sunday, we’ll go look for an apartment. I saved someone yesterday and got a two-hundred-thousand-yuan reward."

"You have two hundred thousand?" Liu Xiaomei exclaimed. "Let's buy a house, a big, big house! How about that?"

Zhang Pa laughed. "Is property in the provincial capital that cheap?"

"I don't care, let's buy one anyway," she said. "It needs a dance studio, a music room, a home theater... and a swimming pool would be best. Don't you think?"

"I have two hundred thousand, not two billion," Zhang Pa said. "I think you might have confused the units."

"It's enough, it's enough! You put up the bulk of it, and I'll add a little more," she said. "It's settled!" She hung up.

If they really bought a house like that, would it be just "a little more" from her? Zhang Pa smiled, suddenly feeling incredibly happy. Miao Zili and Wang Zhongxing could all go to hell.

Miao Zili called at 7:30 PM, when it was already dark outside. He told him to come to Room V1 at the Bright Moon Palace.

Hearing that name again, he immediately thought of the Fat Guy and his crew. He casually agreed and headed out.

The Bright Moon Palace was in the city center. Zhang Pa biked for half an hour to get there. When parking, he was once again subjected to inhumane treatment; the security guard told him bicycles weren't allowed at the entrance. It was the same treatment he'd received when he went to a lounge with Long Xiaole.

The guard was arrogant and rude, acting as if the Bright Moon Palace belonged to him. Zhang Pa didn't bother arguing; he rode to the corner of the street to park and walked back.

The Bright Moon Palace was truly something else—the only one of its kind in the provincial capital, absurdly luxurious.

As he entered, two young women in princess dresses bowed and greeted him. One asked in a soft, melodic voice, "Do you have a reservation?"

When Zhang Pa mentioned Room V1, she led him inside.

The decor was unique. Past the entrance was a massive screen—a shadow wall, really—blocking the view of the main lobby, with a giant character for "Fortune" written on it.

There were a few steps on either side. The greeter led him up the right-hand set. Zhang Pa looked inside and froze. Good grief, it was spectacular!

Behind the screen was a lobby, and in the center was a circular, tiered seating area like a stadium, draped in red silk with three levels. The tiers were packed with beautiful women!

Like models in a display window, they sat in three rows of varying heights, all wearing short skirts. They wore matching uniforms, were well-groomed, and sat with their legs neatly crossed to the side, just like flight attendants. They all wore skin-toned stockings and silver high heels. The skirts were so short they covered nothing, and with their legs crossed, they offered tantalizing glimpses that showed a deep understanding of the male psyche.

Every woman smiled at every customer who walked in. Because the seating was circular, no matter where Zhang Pa walked, there were beauties facing him directly, greeting him with beautiful smiles.

Zhang Pa looked at a few of them—or rather, a dozen or so—taking in their long legs and exquisite faces. Based on their appearance alone, they were just as good as the students at the conservatory.

The greeter led him past this area to the elevator. The lift was white, matching the floor tiles and the lobby—in short, it was beautiful.

The elevator doors opened to reveal an attendant, also dressed in a short skirt and high heels with impeccable makeup. She smiled and asked, "Welcome. Which room are you headed to?"

The greeter answered for him, and the attendant pressed the button. V1 was on the second floor.