63 Becoming a Better Version of Yourself

He typed for a while at school, and at half past three, he went out into the corridor to stretch his body, but something felt off. He mulled it over, hesitated, and in the end called Liu Xiaomei: “Hey beauty, your big brother has a date tonight, can’t make it to class.”

Liu Xiaomei was silent for a long moment before she replied, “But you’re my bodyguard.”

Zhang Pa thought for a moment and said, “Alright then, since I’m your bodyguard, I’ll see you in a bit.” He hung up, went back to the classroom to pack up, and handed his laptop to Yun Zheng. “I’ll get it from you tonight.”

Yun Zheng agreed.

Zhang Pa announced to the students, “Teacher needs to leave early today, haha, goodbye.”

“Are you crazy or sick, teacher?” called out the chubby Yu Yuan.

Zhang Pa just smiled and waved, “See you tomorrow.” He walked slowly out of the classroom, left the building, exited the campus, and took a cab to the conservatory.

He really didn’t want to take a cab, but his head was spinning, the fever wasn’t gone, so he decided to pamper himself a bit—only to realize he’d forgotten his dance clothes halfway there.

He remembered halfway, gave a wry smile, and thought, the fever’s really muddled my brain.

When he met Liu Xiaomei, Zhang Pa grinned, “I was supposed to have a date, so I didn’t bring my clothes—no dancing today.”

Liu Xiaomei didn’t say a word, just tilted her head to look at him for a while, then suddenly reached out to touch his forehead. Apparently dissatisfied, she frowned slightly, gently held Zhang Pa’s left hand in hers, and lifted it to her mouth, as if to bite it.

Zhang Pa braced himself for pain, but instead heard Liu Xiaomei sigh softly, “Silly boy, you’re sick and you didn’t say anything. Are you feeling awful?”

Zhang Pa was stunned for a moment, then glanced down and realized what she meant. There was a faint needle mark on the back of his left hand, not obvious unless you looked closely. He chuckled, “You have sharp eyes.”

“And a keen nose,” Liu Xiaomei replied, meaning she could smell the medication.

“It’s just a mild fever, nothing serious,” Zhang Pa said.

“If you say it’s nothing, does that make it true? Are you immortal?” Liu Xiaomei retorted. “You always lie when you call. Trying to fool me? Hmph, just you wait.”

Zhang Pa smiled, “You’d scold me even when I’m sick?”

“That’s why I’ll save it for later,” Liu Xiaomei said. “Come, you need to rest at my place. After class, I’ll bring food home. What do you want to eat?”

“I’m your bodyguard,” Zhang Pa protested.

“Even bodyguards need to rest.”

“I’m a patient. I can’t climb up to the eighth floor,” Zhang Pa shifted.

“I’ll carry you,” Liu Xiaomei replied, then added, “Just like you carried me.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Zhang Pa sighed, taking her hand and putting it on his forehead. “See? I’m almost fine.”

“‘Almost fine’ means you’re not fine,” Liu Xiaomei said. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“I’ll go to class with you, and you can fuss over me after,” Zhang Pa insisted.

Seeing his determination, Liu Xiaomei relented. “Alright then.” So the two of them strolled together through the campus once more.

Zhang Pa thought of what happened last Saturday and asked, “What happened to those two bad guys?”

“No idea. I don’t care,” Liu Xiaomei replied breezily.

“How can you not care? It’s dangerous,” Zhang Pa pressed.

“They seem to have implicated the mastermind. Didn’t the police call you?” she asked.

“Who would call me?” Zhang Pa was puzzled.

“Well, they tried to rob you. If they turned in the mastermind, the police should have told you,” Liu Xiaomei reasoned.

“I never got a call,” Zhang Pa said.

“Then I don’t know,” Liu Xiaomei replied, pausing before asking, “Want to talk to the principal about it?”

“No need,” said Zhang Pa. “It’s not necessary.”

Soon they arrived at the elementary school. Liu Xiaomei arranged for Zhang Pa to rest in the neighboring classroom while she went off to teach.

This time, she didn’t extend the class. Two hours later, class ended right on time. Instead of waiting for the students to leave, Liu Xiaomei hurried to the next classroom and found him sleeping with his head on the teacher’s desk.

She watched him for a moment, then took out her phone and snapped some pictures. Next, she leaned down, pressed her head close to his, and took a handful of selfies before stopping. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him.

Zhang Pa soon woke up. Seeing Liu Xiaomei, he asked, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Why should I?” Liu Xiaomei asked. “Still feeling unwell?”

“A little,” Zhang Pa admitted.

“Do you want to eat out, or bring food home? Or should I cook for you?” Liu Xiaomei offered.

Zhang Pa smiled, “Let me treat you to a feast.”

“What feast?” Liu Xiaomei laughed.

“Cold noodles and steak,” Zhang Pa replied.

“Alright,” Liu Xiaomei agreed. So they actually bought a portion of cold noodles and two steaks to take home.

They added just a hint of chili oil to the noodles, sliced the steak thin, and pan-seared it in water instead of oil.

Watching Zhang Pa fuss over the beef in the kitchen, Liu Xiaomei asked with a smile, “Is it good?”

“No idea. It’s my first time trying it this way,” Zhang Pa answered.

“Why not just boil the meat?” Liu Xiaomei suggested.

“No way. Boiled meat is nothing like steak. There’s no atmosphere,” Zhang Pa retorted.

Liu Xiaomei burst out laughing, snapped a photo, and posted it online with the caption “Boiled Steak.”

To set the mood, Liu Xiaomei opened a bottle of red wine and lit candles, turning dinner into a serious, candlelit cold noodle feast.

They both enjoyed the meal, Zhang Pa especially so, because Liu Xiaomei posted photos of their candlelit dinner online—and he was in them.

Staring at his phone, Zhang Pa asked seriously, “Is this your way of confessing to me?”

Liu Xiaomei just smiled without answering.

Zhang Pa cleared his throat, “Let me put it differently—are you announcing to the world that we’re a couple?”

Still, Liu Xiaomei only smiled.

Zhang Pa adopted a grave tone, “This isn’t right. I’m a public figure. Doing this could affect my reputation. You’re being impulsive.”

Liu Xiaomei was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, then suddenly said, “Pick me up at nine on Sunday morning. My mom wants to meet you.”

“What?” Zhang Pa was stunned. “The ugly bride finally meets the in-laws?”

“Meeting is inevitable. It doesn’t matter what you say. Just tell me—are you coming or not?”

“Do I have the freedom to say no?” Zhang Pa asked.

“No,” Liu Xiaomei replied.

Zhang Pa let out a long sigh, “Why, why? Why must a man of my caliber be shackled by marriage? Why must a free spirit like me be dragged down by the dust of the world?”

“You talk too much,” Liu Xiaomei said. “Better think about what gift to bring for the first meeting.”

“A gift too?” Zhang Pa put on a pained expression. “Do you know how many men go broke buying gifts for their future mothers-in-law? That first pot of gold is always just out of reach, forever parting them from their millionaire dreams…”

“If you don’t want to, I can find someone else,” Liu Xiaomei teased.

“No way! This suffering is mine alone. I’ll bear this pain for the sake of men everywhere, so they can become millionaires in style. Let me be the one to fall to vulgarity.”

“If you keep talking nonsense, I won’t like you anymore,” Liu Xiaomei threatened.

Zhang Pa suddenly burst with energy, “Did you just say you like me?”

Liu Xiaomei bit her lip and smiled at him, her beauty mysterious in the candlelight.

“What does our mother like?” Zhang Pa asked.

Liu Xiaomei laughed again, “Dream on. If you want to win my heart, you’ve got a long way to go.”

“I’m serious. This is academic. What does our mother like?”

“My mom likes finding me boyfriends,” Liu Xiaomei answered. Then she shook her head, “No, not finding me boyfriends—she likes analyzing any man who wants to be my boyfriend. She analyzes everything, afraid I’ll get the short end. As for you…I’m not so sure.”

“I’m a middle school homeroom teacher. Six thousand a month,” Zhang Pa offered.

“What do you teach?” Liu Xiaomei asked.

“Uh…moral education,” Zhang Pa replied.

Liu Xiaomei finally stopped laughing. “Enough joking. Still dizzy?”

Zhang Pa felt himself over carefully. “Seems fine now.”

“Don’t let your guard down. You have another injection tomorrow, right? Go get it,” Liu Xiaomei reminded him.

Zhang Pa agreed.

With this new mission, Zhang Pa was on edge. After dinner, he helped with the dishes, cleaned up, and then said goodbye. Liu Xiaomei reminded him again to go to the hospital the next day.

He left the conservatory and took a cab home, the extravagance justified because he still had work left to do.

Almost home, he called Yun Zheng, who was waiting at the door with the computer bag when he arrived.

“Thanks,” said Zhang Pa, then went home to work.

The next morning, he got a call from the chubby one: “If you don’t come soon, Da Zhuang’s going to cry.”

Of course Da Zhuang wouldn’t cry—this was just a reminder that he couldn’t keep leaving them hanging.

“There’s a script. You guys start filming first,” Zhang Pa said.

“We tried, but it’s not working. The actors aren’t right. Even I can tell something’s off—how can we show this to anyone?” came the reply.

“I’ll come over at noon,” Zhang Pa decided.

“Alright. We’ll wait for you,” said the other, and hung up.

After two days of IV drips, Zhang Pa was feeling much better. Early in the morning, he took his bike to the repair shop, then came back to take Lao Pi and the other patients to school.

As usual, he took a cab. He consoled himself that, as a six-thousand-a-month earner, he could afford a little luxury.

He was a little nervous today, unsure if the students would still give him face. So, as soon as he entered, he started working on the computer, determined not to look at the door.

At half past seven, the principal came to see him. After a long negotiation, they finally settled the class schedule. There was one more requirement: no matter what class was in session, Zhang Pa had to be present.

“That’s impossible. I’m very busy,” Zhang Pa protested.

“Everything’s hard at the start. Stick it out for a while,” the principal said.

It’s true—beginnings are always hard. And the web drama hadn’t even started.

A sudden wave of sadness struck Zhang Pa. He lived at Xingfuli, surrounded by a bunch of delinquent youths. As a teacher, his students were Yun Zheng and her group of troublemakers. Was he destined to be surrounded by such people forever?

To banish this negative thought, he tried to comfort himself: I’m a saint, saving lost youths.

The principal left after speaking. Zhang Pa returned to the classroom—thank goodness! Still forty-three students.

He wrote the number “three” on the blackboard and announced, “Today is your third day of perfect attendance. Hold out for ten days and there’ll be a barbecue. If anyone skips and messes up the plan, you know what to do, right?”

“Yes!” the students chorused.

They certainly did. If anyone made them miss out on barbecue, Zhang Pa wouldn’t even need to step in—the rest would beat the culprit to a pulp.

At eight, the eighteenth class finally welcomed its first real teacher, Liu Fangfang, Yun Zheng’s former homeroom teacher.

Liu Fangfang didn’t say much. She just opened her book and began to teach. Whether or not the students listened—well, that went without saying.

Even with Zhang Pa sitting right in front, no one paid him any mind. The students just carried on with whatever they wanted to do.