[030] I’m Not Targeting Anyone in Particular

There were three classes scheduled for the afternoon, but only two had lessons assigned; the third period was reserved for self-study. Yet, as was often the case, “self-study” typically turned into, “Let me explain a few problems to you during this self-study period.” On the very first day of the new term, the bell rang for class, and after waiting a bit, no teacher arrived to explain anything. This surprised Fang Chang’an greatly.

At first, the classroom managed to stay quiet, but soon the buzz of conversation began to rise. Whether he liked it or not, Fang Chang’an had already been installed as class monitor and was therefore responsible for maintaining order. However, rigid suppression would only set him at odds with his classmates, which was the last thing Fang Chang’an wanted.

The will of the people is the foundation of rule, after all.

Still, he could not simply ignore the growing chaos. Fang Chang’an patted Shen Mo on the shoulder to indicate he was stepping out; Shen Mo stood to let him pass. Fang Chang’an walked up to the podium, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote “Keep Quiet” in large characters on the blackboard. Then, taking the blackboard eraser, he knocked it sharply on the desk—bang, bang, bang! The entire classroom fell silent at once, all eyes turning to him.

Fang Chang’an tapped the words he’d written with the eraser, said not a word, and walked back down. The students stared, bewildered, but at least quiet for a while. Gradually, the buzzing began anew. Fang Chang’an returned to the podium, tapped the board again with the eraser, waited for everyone’s attention, then left without uttering a single word.

After repeating this twice, the volume dropped significantly, yet a few still whispered. For the third time, Fang Chang’an came to the front, eraser in hand, and knocked, “Fifth row, the boy in the middle, what’s your name?”

The boy glanced up, his expression less than pleased but refrained from openly challenging the monitor. “Lu Wei. What is it?”

“The boy next to you?”

“Yang Xiao.”

Fang Chang’an nodded. “Lu Wei, Yang Xiao, please stop talking. You’re disturbing others.”

Lu Wei replied irritably, “We’re discussing our studies.”

“Discussing studies is not an excuse for disturbing others. Please keep quiet.” Fang Chang’an knew he was making excuses—who hadn’t used that one before? “If you have questions, write them down on paper. If anything’s unclear, discuss it after class.”

With that, Fang Chang’an returned to his seat. Shen Mo looked at him with newfound respect, perhaps never imagining a class monitor could be so assertive, and stood up to let him back in.

A few minutes later, Fang Chang’an heard voices again. This time, he didn’t return to the podium but stood up and called out, “Wang Chuanbiao, don’t talk and disturb others.”

Wang Chuanbiao was the tall boy who had nitpicked earlier when Fang Chang’an, as an enthusiastic classmate, had assigned cleaning duties. Now that Fang Chang’an was officially in charge, Wang didn’t challenge his authority, only drawled, “I was just borrowing an eraser.”

“Borrowing an eraser isn’t a reason to disrupt others’ work!” Fang Chang’an replied.

Wang Chuanbiao was about to retort when a girl seated by the wall in the fifth row stood up, her tone impatient, “Are you all stupid or what? The monitor has made it perfectly clear: don’t talk! If you need to communicate, write a note!”

Most of the class froze. Fang Chang’an glanced at her, not recalling her name, but remembered her from lining up the previous day—a tall girl, just over one-sixty, slightly shorter than Liu Bei, with excellent proportions and attractive features, perhaps only outshone by Shen Mo and Wang Ke among the girls. Clearly from a well-off family, judging by her branded Nike and Adidas clothes and shoes.

After she sat down, all eyes shifted back to Fang Chang’an.

He said, “I didn’t say it quite like that. Self-study period is for everyone to work. As class monitor, I must stress again: maintain order and don’t disturb your classmates.”

With that, he resumed his seat and didn’t stand again even when Cheng Mengfei entered the classroom.

At four fifty, class ended. Around forty minutes past four, Cheng Mengfei entered, her expression tinged with surprise at the quiet scene, as if she doubted her own senses.

On Monday afternoons, the third period was reserved for homeroom teacher meetings, so many classes had self-study; as she ascended the stairs, Cheng could hear the commotion from other classrooms, even those of the advanced classes in grades two and three.

Climbing the final flight, she’d overheard the noise from the first-year advanced class and had assumed her own class would be no different. Such rowdiness was to be expected—she’d grown used to it during her internship.

But upon entering, she found her students quietly engrossed in their books, so much so that she unconsciously lightened her steps, afraid that even a heavy footfall might shatter the tranquil atmosphere.

The contrast between this calm and the racket from Class Three next door was striking. The Class Three homeroom teacher, a veteran Chinese instructor, was responsible for the first three advanced classes, while Cheng Mengfei taught only the fourth. The difference in their teaching credentials was obvious.

Furthermore, the other three advanced classes also had experienced homeroom teachers; only Cheng had gained her position through connections, and even speaking at the earlier meeting, she’d felt somewhat lacking in confidence.

But now, seeing her students quietly reading, she was suddenly filled with a new sense of courage and confidence.

“Everyone…” She ascended the podium with light steps, nearly saying, “Everyone, quiet down,” but caught herself and changed it to, “Let’s pause for a moment.”

At that moment, it seemed the Class Three teacher had also entered; the sound of the old man banging the blackboard eraser on the lectern in irritation echoed through the wall, accompanied by his scolding: “What’s going on? Is this a marketplace? So noisy! You’re the loudest class I passed by! Look at Class Four—same self-study period, but quiet as can be!”

Cheng Mengfei struggled to contain her smile, her lips curling despite herself, and spoke even more gently, “Starting tomorrow, during the last ten minutes of morning reading—at six-fifty—please gather on the playground for morning exercises. We’ll be doing the second set of broadcast calisthenics, ‘The Call of the Times.’ You all did these in primary school, didn’t you?”

“Raise your hand if you don’t know them.”

No one raised a hand. Cheng nodded. “One more thing: the diagnostic exam results are out. The school isn’t publishing the full ranking, but the four advanced class homeroom teachers have compiled the top twenty in our grade. Our class has three students in the top ten: Fang Chang’an, Liu Bei, and Wang Sha.”

“I’d like to give special recognition to Fang Chang’an, who ranked first in the entire school in this exam. Let’s give him a round of applause.”

Cheng led the applause, and the whole class joined in. Many glanced at Fang Chang’an, their gazes a mix of envy, admiration, and perhaps a hint of resentment.

Fang Chang’an clapped awkwardly for himself, catching Shen Mo’s glance—Shen’s lips parted in surprise, her bright eyes full of awe and admiration, incredibly endearing.

After the applause faded, Cheng Mengfei continued, “I hope everyone can take Fang Chang’an as a role model and study hard. I also hope Fang Chang’an will stay humble and, while maintaining his own performance, help classmates who are struggling to improve their grades.”

Fang Chang’an nodded earnestly, lips pressed together, putting on the appearance of a good student, though inwardly he sighed with relief—thank goodness he wasn’t asked to share his study methods.

He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to resist telling the truth: It’s not that I aced the exam—it’s that you’re all just too weak!