One should not speak in lofty generalities.

The principal replied, “Do you think there could be dormitories in the teaching building?”

“But there are beds,” Zhang Pa said again.

“So what if there are beds? Can’t you take a nap during breaks or at noon?” the principal replied. “There are just two desks—no need to move them. Clear a space in the file cabinet, and that's settled.” With that, he turned to leave.

Zhang Pa chased after him. “Boss, are you trying to set me up with someone?”

“What are you thinking? Is she some beauty? Didn’t you see what she was wearing?” The principal shook his head in disdain and strode off.

Zhang Pa sighed and returned to the office. “I know you’re not happy about this, but there’s nothing I can do—the principal has decided.”

Luo Shengnan gave Zhang Pa a once-over. He was tidy enough, making a decent first impression, so her expression softened as she replied, “It gets pretty dull being alone all the time. Sometimes you want to talk and there’s no one around. You’re welcome here.”

Whatever Luo Shengnan thought, at least what she said was gracious. Zhang Pa replied, “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“You’re being too polite,” Luo Shengnan said. “Is there anything you need help with?”

Zhang Pa glanced at the desks and the file cabinet. “No,” he replied, then added, “I’ll go get my things,” and left to find Liu Fangfang.

When he reached the stairs, he hesitated, then turned back to the principal’s office. “Boss, what’s your intention? Why must you put me in the same room with her?”

“What else? The only other place is with the PE department—do you want to go?” the principal said. “It’s even worse there—several PE teachers, just two desks, and a mountain of sports equipment.”

“There’s really no other desk in this whole building?” Zhang Pa asked.

“There is, but I’m not giving it to you,” the principal replied. “Now out. I have work to do.”

Zhang Pa mulled it over. “What are you really thinking? Can you at least be straight with me?”

The principal said, “There’s nothing to explain. To be honest, there’s only one music teacher, and she’s hogging a huge office. The other teachers are complaining.”

“So you’re using me to appease them?”

“You could say that. Now get out,” the principal ordered.

“You could just assign another female teacher,” Zhang Pa said.

“Assign another woman? She teaches music—who else would fit? That’s enough. Out—just seeing you is enough,” the principal said.

“So you’re burning your bridges after crossing the river,” Zhang Pa muttered.

“I haven’t even crossed the river yet,” the principal retorted.

With his protest dismissed, Zhang Pa returned empty-handed and found Liu Fangfang to get the first-grade textbooks, only to be confronted by an enormous cardboard box. He asked in astonishment, “All of this?”

“Everything from first to third grade—textbooks, lesson plans, some test papers. If you want exams, better get them from the first-grade teachers. These papers are for setting questions only, so don’t lose them,” Liu Fangfang said.

Zhang Pa thanked her, assuring her that not a single sheet would go missing.

Liu Fangfang smiled. “I also have digital lesson plans and test papers if you want them?”

Zhang Pa shook his head. “If I can get through what’s in these books, that’s enough.”

“All right, let me know if you need anything,” she said.

“Thank you, really. I’ll treat you to barbecue someday.”

“Deal,” Liu Fangfang replied with a smile.

Zhang Pa carried the box back to the office. By the time he returned, Luo Shengnan had already tidied her desk and cleared a space in the file cabinet. She handed him a key. “There’s only one—you’ll have to get a copy made.”

“Okay,” Zhang Pa replied, setting down the box and heading out with the key.

“No rush,” Luo Shengnan said.

“I’m not in a hurry,” Zhang Pa replied.

He returned shortly, handed the key back to Luo Shengnan, and finally had time to sort through the mound of materials in the box. There were stacks of books and test papers. As he leafed through them, he suddenly became furious, dropped the papers, and strode quickly back to the classroom.

Pausing at the doorway, he was surprised—why was there no teacher? Checking the schedule posted outside, he realized it was his own Chinese class. He rushed back to the office to grab the first-grade Chinese textbook.

When he entered, he thundered, “Yu Yuan, stand up!”

Yu Yuan stood and asked, “What did I do, teacher?”

Zhang Pa was livid. “Out of a hundred and fifty points on the Chinese test, you tell me you got twenty? Are you taking me for a fool?”

Yu Yuan defended himself, “I didn’t! How was I supposed to know you didn’t know the full score was one hundred fifty?”

“You’ve successfully infuriated me,” Zhang Pa said. He turned and wrote “75” on the blackboard. Pointing at Yu Yuan, he continued, “The pass mark was sixty, now it’s seventy-five. The extra fifteen points? Ask Yu Yuan about that. Don’t say I didn’t warn you—if you don’t reach seventy-five, I’ll show you no mercy!”

Yun Zheng immediately yelled at Yu Yuan, “You idiot, you just cost us fifteen points.”

Yu Yuan, usually hot-tempered, didn’t dare retort this time and muttered, “It wasn’t on purpose.”

Zhang Pa said, “Your task: go home and find me your seventh and eighth grade textbooks. If you can’t, buy them from a used book stall. Today’s Wednesday. I’ll check on Friday. If you don’t have them, don’t blame me for losing my temper.”

Wang Jiang raised his hand. “Teacher, this feels like a gangster routine.”

“Gangster?” Zhang Pa replied. “Here’s some good news: someday I’ll take you all to tour the juvenile detention center, so you can experience its wonderful life.”

“Can I not go?” Wang Jiang raised his hand again. “I’m a good student—I shouldn’t be in a place like that.”

“Do you take me for blind? The other day in a fight, everyone else was empty-handed, but you brought a military dagger. A good student brings a dagger to school?”

“It was a saw blade,” Wang Jiang insisted.

“Do you really think I’m blind?” Zhang Pa said. “No more idle chatter. First Chinese class—recite poetry with me.”

So they began, though the students sat in all manner of strange postures and recited in equally odd ways. Zhang Pa pretended not to notice. Finally, the bell rang for the end of class. Relieved, he left with his book and laptop.

Outside, Li Yingxiong and another student stood, each holding three cases of Red Bull. As soon as Zhang Pa stepped out, they came in.

Zhang Pa glanced back, curious.

Li Yingxiong opened a case and began handing out cans. “Thanks for backing me up in the fight, everyone. One can each, just a small token.”

He quickly finished distributing them, then clasped his hands. “Call me next time you need backup.” He picked up the third case and left.

Zhang Pa was amused—how interesting.

Li Yingxiong stopped in front of him, set down the case. “Teacher, this one’s for you. Thanks.” He left, with his friend echoing a thank-you as they departed.

Zhang Pa chuckled. It felt great to be on the receiving end of gifts. He picked up the Red Bull and returned to the office.

Luo Shengnan was lounging on the bed, playing on her phone. When she saw him, she straightened up a little. “Class over?”

“Yeah,” Zhang Pa replied, putting the drinks under the desk. “A student gave them to me—help yourself if you want one.”

“Thanks,” Luo Shengnan said, then added, “You’re brave, accepting gifts from students.”

“It’s not about being brave—it’s about being impressive,” Zhang Pa replied.

There was really no way to respond to that. Luo Shengnan smiled and went back to her phone.

Zhang Pa continued organizing his teaching materials, easily passing two hours. At noon, he went home, skipped the afternoon at work, and did chores at home.

The guys were still glued to their games.

The reality was unavoidable—the allure of games was simply too powerful. People threw themselves into them, no amount of money too much.

When he got home, he played with the two big dogs, took them out, then clapped his hands and called out, “Meeting time.”

“Let me finish this round,” Fatty replied.

So they played on. After the game, Zhang Pa began, “You all know our first script couldn’t go into production. I wrote a new one yesterday, about two dogs. Having you act in it is out of the question, so I’m thinking of making it an animated film. Anyone here know how to draw? Or use a computer to draw?”

“If I could draw, I wouldn’t be wasting my life gaming,” Fatty said.

“So, no one at all?” Zhang Pa asked.

“I can doodle with a pencil, but no clue about computers,” Turtle said.

“Alright, got it,” Zhang Pa nodded. After a pause, he continued, “Next topic—investment. Chip in some money so I can hire someone who can draw, and get the script produced.”

“Will it make money though?” Old Meng asked.

“You need to understand something,” Zhang Pa replied. “Some people are born with talent and can make money at anything, but most people have to build up experience and a body of work. This animated film will be our company’s first project—not for profit, but to build a portfolio. It’ll help when we launch our next show.”

“I see,” Fatty said, thinking it over. “How much will it take?”

“We have a computer, but we’d better buy another. On Sunday, I’ll go to the job market to hire two animators. What do you think?” Zhang Pa said.

“No problem investing,” Fatty said, “but when are we shooting the web series? Our views haven’t changed—bring your girlfriend in. The belle of the Conservatory of Music will definitely attract viewers.”

Turtle chimed in, “I’m fine with investing. The sooner we do, the sooner I can report back at home, instead of wasting every day gaming with nothing to show for it.”

“If you’re all on board, stop playing games. One: buy a new computer with the right software. Two: find out an animator’s salary. Three... I’ll handle the third part,” Zhang Pa said.

“What’s the third part?” Fatty asked.

“The theme song. Maybe I’ll ask Lu Yiyi? She and the others were thinking about a theme for the web series.”

“That’s for the web series, not the animation,” Nianpao commented.

“It’s not just an animation,” Zhang Pa said. He picked up the camera and called to the two big black dogs, “Down.”

The two dogs looked at him, then slowly lay down. Zhang Pa started filming—not for a storyline, but to collect footage of their various states. When it came time to make the animation, he could insert some of their shots, pioneering the use of live dog footage in animation.

Of course, the key was cuteness. Only the most adorable clips would do—otherwise, they’d detract from the film.

As Zhang Pa kept filming, Fatty asked, “Give us a ballpark figure so we know how much to pool.”

After a few more shots, Zhang Pa set down the camera. “Ballpark figure... If you all were willing to learn animation, we wouldn’t need to pool any money. But would any of you actually learn?”

This idea came to him after finishing the script—get these loafers to learn computer skills, put them on the right track. He’d even mentioned it to the principal earlier—asking the boys if any liked computers or could do animation. If any of them joined in, that would be the first step toward getting their lives on course.