This is likely the last event of the year.

So he simply headed home, grabbing a portion of cold noodles on the way, planning to eat while working. Just then, he received a call from Dashuang, inviting him to a housewarming celebration—Dashuang was treating.

Zhang Pa understood instantly: this was a reminder to move out. He asked for the location and agreed to meet them there.

After hanging up, he uploaded his article online, then took off the bandages from his leg, changed into a fresh pair of pants, and set out.

Almost everyone was present—not just Fatty and a couple of others, but also Lu Yiyi, Dahuang, and a few other girls. As soon as they met, they started drinking, but it wasn't long before the conversation drifted back to moving houses and filming the web drama.

Zhang Pa said, “I'm a teacher at No. 119 Middle School now. Just give me a couple of days to get a feel for the students, then we’ll start shooting.”

“What? You, a teacher? Are you serious?” The whole table burst into commotion.

Zhang Pa replied, “Let’s keep it respectful—no disrespecting your teacher.”

“How about I just kill you now—then there’d be no chance for disrespect?” Fatty chimed in. “How did you even get in?”

“To be honest, I have no idea myself,” Zhang Pa replied. “You guys go ahead and move first; I don’t have much to take, just my computer and mattress. Fatty, whenever you move, bring my stuff over.”

Fatty refused. “Find someone else. I can’t move your stuff.”

Dinner ended early—or rather, Zhang Pa left earlier than the rest. The gang kept drinking. Zhang Pa went home to pack, staring blankly at the pile of women's clothes. He had to get rid of them soon, but who should he give them to?

After a while, he took out the student roster and began calling each of the students who had skipped class that day.

The next day, Yun Zheng carried Zhang Pa to school again, grumbling the whole way, “If you keep this up, I’m heading to the hospital to join Old Pi and the others.”

“Your teacher’s leg is injured. Are you going to die just from helping out?” Zhang Pa retorted.

“You’re not even hurt,” Yun Zheng complained, still feeling something was off.

Zhang Pa pointed at the bandages. “See? So many layers—how could I not be injured?”

That day was another self-study session. Zhang Pa continued to type away, spinning stories as he nursed his injured leg. Soon, the principal arrived with a wooden cane for him. Zhang Pa gratefully accepted it, beaming at the students. “From now on, I have a legitimate weapon.”

The principal asked, “What about the students who skipped class?”

“I notified them yesterday. They'll definitely show up today,” Zhang Pa assured him.

“Really?” The principal seemed doubtful.

But it was true. By one o’clock, aside from the four students still hospitalized, all forty-four other students from Class Eighteen, Year Three, had arrived.

The only difference was the location—those who normally attended class were in the classroom for self-study, while the late-notified students were gathered at the entrance to the gymnasium.

At one o’clock sharp, Zhang Pa showed up, cane in hand. “I’m the one who called to say I’d beat you all down.”

Someone snickered, “Like that, and you still want to fight?”

Zhang Pa swung open the gym doors. “If you’ve got the guts, come in.”

“Fine, who’s afraid of whom?” The group filed in, and the doors slammed shut behind them, sealing off the outside.

Standing at the door, Zhang Pa took attendance. Somehow, there were only a bit over thirty people. He shouted, “Who here isn’t from this school?”

“Teacher, are you looking for me?” one of the young punks jeered.

Zhang Pa understood immediately. Some of his students had already started mixing with street gangs and, hearing there was going to be a fight, brought their friends for backup.

“Like I said on the phone: come on, one-on-one. If you’re a man, step up,” Zhang Pa challenged.

“What, all of us fight you one-on-one? Isn’t that bullying you?” someone laughed.

“Take me on one at a time. Are you scared?” Zhang Pa pressed.

“Are you stupid? Who even does one-on-ones anymore?” the punk from before shouted.

Zhang Pa smiled. “So you want a brawl, then?”

“Yeah, so what? Got a problem with that? Come bite me,” the punk boasted.

“Hang on,” Zhang Pa said, then texted Yun Zheng: "Bring the whole class to the gym for a fight."

He had strictly forbidden phones, but he knew full well none of the students would listen. Sure enough, three minutes later, a crowd stormed in, Yun Zheng leading the charge. “Who do we fight?” he asked Zhang Pa.

“First, close the doors,” Zhang Pa instructed. Once the doors were shut again, he turned to the group of thirty-plus. “If you got my call last night, step forward now—or fight us. You have two choices. If you don’t come over, we’ll come after you.”

The students found this hilarious—was their teacher really leading them into a brawl? They all grinned and flexed their fists.

The opposing group had the numbers, but most of them hesitated, not eager to brawl with a teacher for no reason. Zhang Pa continued, “Right now, outsiders and street punks are here to cause trouble at No. 119 Middle School. Are we going to let that happen?”

“No!” the students shouted.

Then Zhang Pa turned to the truants. “What about you? Helping outsiders beat up your classmates? Is that fun?”

Of course, it wasn’t. Putting aside their grudge with Zhang Pa, many of them quickly separated from the outsiders.

The unluckiest were the few students who had brought the punks for support—they were definitely in for a beating, no matter what.

And so the fight broke out. Under homeroom teacher Zhang Pa’s leadership, on only the second day of Class Eighteen’s existence, they thoroughly beat back over a dozen punks who’d come to cause trouble. This battle established the class’s honor and promoted the school’s proud traditions.

Afterwards, Teacher Zhang conducted a meeting to commend the students for their valor.

Of course, before the meeting began, the truants had to move their desks over.

It was only then that these students realized they’d been expelled from their original classes.

Facing the crowd, Zhang Pa said, “This is what school is really about, understand?”

“Yes,” the students answered. Their teacher had led them into a fight—and they’d won. It felt great.

Zhang Pa went on, “You’re a pretty united bunch, which makes me proud. But unfortunately, we have traitors among us. Let’s discuss what to do about that.”

“Kick them out! We don’t want traitors in our class,” someone shouted.

There were five third-year students at No. 119 Middle School who were already mixing with street gangs. All five had been kicked into Zhang Pa’s Class Eighteen, and now they were with their unlucky friends.

These five were the “traitors.”

Zhang Pa asked, “Shouldn’t we try to win them back?”

“What’s the point? They think they’re tough because they hang out with gangsters. I’m not interested in that nonsense—look at who they’re following: a bunch of losers.”

Zhang Pa said, “We should at least give them a chance—not just write them off. One more thing: since you all showed up today, as a favor to me, your homeroom teacher, I’d like you all to keep it up tomorrow. Don’t let anyone skip class—deal?”

He ended on a conciliatory note. The students laughed and agreed.

“Great. You do self-study, I’ll do mine,” Zhang Pa said, returning to his work.

While he was making a spectacle of himself, the principal’s office was in an uproar. Several leaders insisted Zhang Pa wasn’t fit to be a teacher. This was only his second day, and there had already been such a major incident—surely there would be more trouble ahead. Best to get rid of him sooner rather than later.

It was impossible to keep the brawl a secret. By lunchtime, every student in the school knew about it. However, no one realized Zhang Pa had led the charge; his students weren’t about to spread the word, which saved him some trouble.

At dismissal, the principal came to see Zhang Pa. “What happened at lunch?”

Zhang Pa handed him a piece of paper. “My incident report.”

The principal read: “A group of outsiders attempted to rob my students. Having endured repeated bullying, the students finally retaliated. Fortunately, I arrived in time to stop the fight before it escalated.”

Principal Qin was at a loss for words, questioning whether his earlier decision to hire Zhang Pa had been a mistake. Why had he acted on impulse and brought in Zhang Pa as a teacher?

Zhang Pa said, “My students are all excellent—united, hardworking, disciplined, and studious… Where are you going, Principal?”

“I have a headache,” Principal Qin said, making a hasty retreat.

There’s an advantage to fighting with street punks: they rarely call the police. Of course, there’s a downside, too—they’ll often come back for revenge, looking to reclaim their pride.

Zhang Pa wasn’t worried about that, though. He was more concerned that the truants who had come to fight today would skip class again tomorrow.

And he was right. The next day, six were missing. Clearly, his authority as homeroom teacher didn’t count for much.

Not only did these six ignore him, but every student in the class brought their phones to school, sneaking in games whenever they could. Zhang Pa could only pretend not to see.

He wasn’t in a rush. Everything took time. Scaring them straight on the first day was already a big win.

But what about those six truants? If he didn’t handle them, the camaraderie from the group fight would quickly fade, along with any sense of honor or motivation, leaving nothing but troublemakers.

On top of that, there were the five kids already mixed up with gangs—eleven students in total. Plus, the four still in the hospital. Nearly half of Class Eighteen wasn’t even attending school!

It was time for drastic measures.

Zhang Pa picked out one chronic truant—a guy who loved two things: basketball and fighting. Whenever he was free, he’d be at the city stadium playing three-on-three, tall and burly, not at all like a typical middle schooler.

Zhang Pa made a big sign with the student’s name, enlarged his ID photo, and pasted it onto the board before heading out.

Knowing that if he left the students unsupervised, they’d act up, he decided to take the whole class with him.

So, on his third day as homeroom teacher, Zhang Pa led the entire class to skip school.

The students were thrilled—this was what school should be like! If it were always this fun, who would ever want to skip? Wait, were they actually skipping now?

Unfortunately, the plan didn’t work out: the principal was waiting at the gate and ordered everyone back to class.

Twenty minutes later, Zhang Pa arrived alone at the city stadium.

He leaned on his cane with one hand, holding the sign high with the other. It read: “Gao Fei the Coward—too scared to come to school for fear of a beating,” with a large photo beside it.

Gao Fei was furious, storming over and shouting, “Are you out of your mind?”

“Are you on medication?” Zhang Pa asked seriously.

“Do you have a death wish?” Gao Fei lunged for the sign.

Zhang Pa hid the sign behind his back, tilting his head and shouting, “Beating up a disabled man! Beating up a cripple!”

“Screw you!” Gao Fei raged. His basketball friends came over, asking what was going on.

Zhang Pa explained, “He’s a middle schooler, skips class every day to play ball with you guys. Don’t you have any thoughts about that?”

“What? You’re in middle school?” The ballplayers were astonished.

Zhang Pa said to Gao Fei, “Unless you come back to school with me, I’ll follow you wherever you go.”