We, too, will continue to grow better and better.

The bandit pointed at Da Wu and cursed, "That bastard screwed me over."

Da Wu was too exhausted to speak, panting heavily. After a while, he managed to ask Zhang Pa, "What are you doing?"

Zhang Pa repeated his question, "What were you two up to?"

The bandit replied angrily, "We went dancing, he fancied a girl, but she belonged to those guys in the back. We ended up running all over the place. Nearly killed me."

Zhang Pa couldn't help but laugh, "You two aren't smart, but neither are they? Couldn't they chase you by car?"

"Who are you siding with?" The bandit looked back, summoned his strength, and shouted, "Still chasing?"

That group yelled a few curses and hailed a taxi.

Zhang Pa was even more amused, "Now they've finally thought of taking a cab. Brilliant intellect."

After this pause, Da Wu caught his breath a bit and asked Zhang Pa, "Are you crazy? Why push your bike instead of riding it?"

"Fitness, exercise, you get it?" Zhang Pa waved at the group, "Goodbye, drop by sometime." He pushed his bike across the street.

Just ahead on the other side was Da Hu's Barbecue.

Late as it was, a few tables still lingered. He scanned the place—no familiar faces—so he headed straight home.

The bandit called out, "Want a drink?"

Zhang Pa declined.

The bandit considered it and said, "Forget it, I won't drink either." He followed Zhang Pa home.

The day ended in absurdity. The next morning, Zhang Pa got up, hurriedly typed out some work, then started making calls. Fifty students in the class, every parent had to be notified. Expecting those monkeys to invite their parents on their own? Impossible.

After finishing all the calls, Zhang Pa felt his brain was about to explode, wanting nothing more than to throw his phone far away. But soon enough, Fatty called, "What's going on? Why is your phone always busy?"

Zhang Pa asked, "What is it?"

"What is it? It's Sunday, Lu Yi Yi and the girls are here, waiting for you to pick the lead actress. Damn, you're asking me what's up? Where are you?" Fatty was furious.

Zhang Pa replied, "I'm coming."

"Coming? Don't just say you're coming, the girls will leave." Fatty was annoyed, "I really want to punch you."

Zhang Pa said, "You have to remember, now I'm a working man, a responsible person..."

"Drop dead." Fatty hung up violently.

Zhang Pa thought it over, got up to pack his things, then called Turtle, "Help me move house."

Turtle laughed, "Tomorrow. Right now I'm drinking with Fatty."

"Drinking and not inviting me?"

"Fatty said not to call you." Turtle laughed heartily.

"Forget it," Zhang Pa said, "not in the mood."

"Come over."

"I'm not going," Zhang Pa said, "I want to sleep." And hung up.

The next moment, Turtle called back, "You're not mad, are you? Fatty says to come."

"I'm not going, too lazy to move," Zhang Pa replied.

"Are you nuts? Get over here." Turtle told him the restaurant name and hung up.

Zhang Pa truly didn't feel like moving, but after everything they'd said, not going would seem like he was really angry, so he forced himself out, took the bus to join them.

Sissy and Liu Zi were there too, and the bandit was retelling last night's escapade.

After sitting down, Zhang Pa asked, "Where's Da Zhuang?"

"Da Zhuang's embarrassed to see you, so he didn't come," Fatty replied offhandedly.

"Would it kill you not to talk nonsense?" Zhang Pa cursed.

Turtle chimed in with a laugh, "He had something at the gym."

Zhang Pa told Turtle, "I've packed everything. Tomorrow I have class, you guys move the stuff."

"Not moving, busy," Turtle refused. Fatty wouldn't do it either. No one wanted to help.

Zhang Pa complained, "If you guys don't help, how am I supposed to move?"

"Move or don't, up to you," Fatty said.

He still had to move. After dinner, Turtle drove drunk again, took everyone back to Xingfu Li, loaded up the stuff, and drove to the gym's neighborhood. Three trips back and forth finally did the job.

But it wasn't a full move—he left a mattress and bedding behind, so that night, Zhang Pa still slept there.

Monday came. Zhang Pa continued to play the part of the limping teacher, making Yun Zheng give him a ride on her bike. Only when they reached the bike did he remember the chain was broken, so he had to take a taxi to school.

Yun Zheng said, "You could take the bus."

Zhang Pa, leaning on his crutch, said, "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

Yun Zheng just laughed.

That day, Zhang Pa had to hold a parent meeting, but as soon as he arrived, the principal called him over. Principal Qin was exasperated. There’d been a fight on Saturday afternoon, and by evening he’d gotten notice to report to the education bureau today.

Before heading to the bureau, the principal needed to know exactly what had happened.

Zhang Pa explained briefly—it was someone from the first fight seeking revenge, bringing a bunch of street thugs.

Once he understood the cause, Principal Qin was thoroughly helpless, "Three days on the job, two group fights with your students. What exactly are you trying to do?"

Zhang Pa said, "Don’t worry. When’s the city sports meet? I’ll lead them to win gold for the school."

Principal Qin was speechless, "I'm asking you to keep these students in line, not lead them in a rebellion."

"I wouldn’t dare. 119 Middle School has always marched forward under your leadership," Zhang Pa said, saying whatever came to mind.

Principal Qin sighed, "Thankfully it was outside thugs causing trouble at school... go on, get out."

Zhang Pa asked, "When will the timetable be set?"

The principal ignored the question, repeating, "Go on, get out."

"Okay." Zhang Pa turned and left, returning to his classroom.

The students gave him face; most sat in the classroom. The ones missing were the usual suspects—four were hospitalized, five were planning to join gangs, and six simply liked skipping class.

When Zhang Pa walked in, the class shouted, "Long live!" then burst out laughing—a sign they accepted him.

Zhang Pa said, "I have good news. Whether you notified your parents or not, I’m notifying them again anyway."

There were over thirty students present, more than half hadn’t told their families about the parent meeting. Hearing this, first came groans, then a chorus, "Teacher, that’s not very lovable of you."

"Start self-study," Zhang Pa ordered and opened his laptop to work.

Near noon, Principal Qin returned from the education bureau, having once again been criticized: students weren't focusing on school, stirring up trouble with bad elements from society, resulting in repeated fights. He had to prevent further incidents.

The principal wanted to scold Zhang Pa again, but decided against it.

At 1 p.m., the first parent meeting for Class 18 of Grade 3 was held successfully. Fifty-one expected, forty-eight attended, three parents had various reasons for not coming.

Seeing this turnout, Zhang Pa secretly sighed in relief. Most parents cared about their children. Of the three absent, one was the father of the mad boy—a thug he'd seen at the hospital.

Then the meeting began. Principal Qin, worried something might happen, stood outside the door, eavesdropping.

Zhang Pa got straight to the point: "I believe you all know your children’s performance at school. To put it simply—they’re not good students. Do you agree?"

To say such a thing directly to parents was something only Zhang Pa could do. The principal outside couldn’t help wanting to barge in.

Zhang Pa waited a while; when no one spoke, he continued, "Everyone knows, our school originally didn't have a Class 18. This class was created specifically for your children. The fact that they were placed here shows what their status is in the eyes of teachers and the school. So, I won't waste time with empty talk about parents and teachers working together to educate children. It’s unnecessary."

"What I want to say is just this: trust me. Leave your children in this class and let me handle them. If you don’t trust me, take them home early—don’t bother transferring them to another class. I recommend withdrawing from school entirely. If they can’t even stay in my class, why let them ruin other teachers and students?"

"To be blunt, whether you admit it or not, some students in this class are indeed troublemakers."

The parents’ faces grew darker, more and more so as he spoke. They had expected a motivational meeting before the high school entrance exams, not a criticism session.

Seeing their expressions, Zhang Pa went on, "I believe no one wants their child to be disobedient, to be a bad student. Everyone hopes their child will be good—good at studies, good at sports, good at everything. But the fact is, every single student in my class has a disciplinary record."

"Having a disciplinary record isn’t right, and I believe you don’t like it either," Zhang Pa said loudly. "As the old proverb goes: If the child is not taught, it’s the father’s fault; if the teaching is lax, it’s the teacher’s laziness. With fifty students in this class, this one sentence criticizes all of us. So, I hope you let go, give me a chance, and let your children get on the right path."

"Of course, they may not get good grades, and their future may not bring good jobs, but I can guarantee one thing: as long as they stay in Class 18, they won’t have a chance to cause trouble, let alone do evil. Now, I need your trust."

This was today’s theme: Zhang Pa wanted parents to hand over authority.

A parent asked, "I don’t quite understand what you mean. We can trust you, but what will you do?"

Zhang Pa turned and wrote a single large word on the blackboard: "Discipline."

"This is my teaching outline," Zhang Pa said. "These fifty students are fifty live monkeys—care about nothing, listen to nothing, especially in groups, the impact is terrifying. What I want is, if I discipline your children, don’t report me. Is that okay?"

Without waiting for a reply, he added, "Of course, I’ll be very measured. You don’t have to worry about safety—I won’t injure anyone. If you trust me, I’ll make sure they stop skipping class, go straight home after school, and even if they resist, I’ll make sure they accept it."

Discipline? That’s a teaching outline? The parents couldn’t hold back any longer. Someone said, "We send our children to school to be educated, not abused."

One raised objection and others chimed in; the classroom instantly turned chaotic.

Zhang Pa waited patiently, clapped his hands for silence, then spoke, "Of course some parents aren’t happy with my methods. I won’t force you. If you want your child to change, trust me and leave them with me. If not, you can send your child to another class, let them continue as before, and see what they become when they grow up."