Chapter 30: Teach a Lesson The calendar finally reached September...

The calendar finally reached September, and Song Qingshu had to go back to school.

He and He Feng had already agreed yesterday: from today, he would go to school while He Feng worked on the bridge. They would have a holiday in a little over a week, and then they would go to town together to buy mooncakes and celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival.

He Feng agreed, with the only condition being that he take him to school today and check if there were any particularly naughty children.

If there were, He Feng might be able to calm them down.

Song Qingshu agreed, too, and pocketed some of the candy he had at home. He planned to select two or three good students each day to give them candy as rewards.

This was how he used to take care of the children at the orphanage, but back then, candy was scarce, so he could only select one child at a time.

He Feng also put a few red dates in his pocket, telling him to soak them in water at school; red dates can replenish qi and blood.

Song Qingshu's canvas bag contained textbooks and lesson plans, and He Feng led him to the school. Normally, the school gates were deserted. During the wheat harvest, there was no place to dry the wheat, so many people simply dumped it inside and outside the school and spread it out to dry.

After all, tuition was due today, and many parents had arrived. By the end of the day, there were no more parents

around. Because of He Feng's seniority and reputation in the village, any parents who knew him would greet him. Song Qingshu found it outrageous to hear some of the children calling him "Grandpa" or "Great-grandfather."

But He Feng nodded and agreed to each one.

Song Qingshu's first reaction was that He Feng didn't have to give red envelopes to every child in the village, otherwise all his year's earnings would be gone.

After finally entering the school, He Feng led him directly to the principal's office. The principal greeted them both, and Song Qingshu barely introduced himself when he was offered a cigarette.

"Come here, Uncle He." He Feng wanted to wave his hand to say he didn't smoke anymore, but he took it and put it to his ear.

He looked rough and tough to begin with, and without a cigarette, he looked even more formidable. He didn't look like a scoundrel like He Ping, but more like someone with some power.

The principal didn't let Song Qingshu say much, but instead introduced himself. "My name is Luo Xiancai, and I'm the principal of our school."

Song Qingshu took in his rather kind face and shook his hand. He Feng also handed him a cigarette. "Please, I'll take care of you from now on."

Luo Xiancai took the cigarette and waved his hand, grinning broadly. "Well, we've known each other for ages, it's only natural."

The two of them walked out of the principal's office and went to the side.

Teacher Zhu was sitting in the next room, registering the students coming and going. Next to him stood a young man who looked very similar to Teacher Zhu.

"Hey, Qingshu, you're here." Teacher Zhu's handwriting quickened when he saw Song Qingshu.

Fortunately, registration and payment had already started a long time ago, so there weren't many people left, and the room wasn't too crowded.

Wang Qunshui saw He Feng and called out "Little Master." The little boy beside him, feeling the pat on his back, immediately called out, "Little Grandpa." "

Oh, Xiao Shun is going to middle school." He Feng still remembered attending his son's third birthday party. In the blink of an eye, he was already in middle school. The child had grown so fast, now reaching Wang Qunshui's chest.

"Why isn't his mother here?" He Feng asked casually.

"She's been sick these past few days, taking her medicine and lying down at home. I came to register Shunzi and then left."

As he was speaking, it was his turn. After paying, he gave Shunzi some change, telling him to buy any stationery he needed, then hurriedly said goodbye and left.

He Feng guessed he had to go back to work on the bridge and didn't stop him; after all, he had to earn money for his family.

He stood at the door like a gatekeeper. Inside, Teacher Zhu's child was talking to Song Qingshu.

Zhu Chengfei had just graduated from junior college and was a little disappointed that he didn't get into university. His father was also happy that he was assigned back home, so he planned to stay and teach.

The middle school back home was indeed short of teachers. Also assigned were Lao Jin's youngest daughter and a male teacher.

Including Song Qingshu, there were eight or nine teachers.

Both offices were almost full.

Luo Xiancai stood at the school gate, puffing on his cigarette and squinting at the departing parents. They were all dressed in coarse cloth, their money wrapped in layers of paper, carefully taking it out and counting it several times before handing it in.

Despite being a small rural middle school, he felt he could make a name for himself and take these children beyond the countryside.

After registering, He Feng and Luo Xiancai took Song Qingshu to the seventh grade class. The class consisted of over forty students, all sizes and heights.

Everyone had just received their books and placed them on the wooden table. They barely dared to open their new books, fearing they might stain them.

Many children didn't even have pens.

Song Qingshu stood before them, writing his name on the blackboard and introducing himself with the tone of a child.

His face was as pale as usual, but the light in his eyes was as fluttering as a butterfly.

Seeing his enthusiasm, He Feng felt a little relieved. He then spotted Wang Qunshui's son, Wang Shun. He'd noticed earlier that he was incredibly tall, standing out in the class.

He Feng, tall and strong, stood outside the door, and the children inside couldn't help but glance at him. Even as the fair-skinned, pretty Song Qingshu was still speaking at the podium, their attention was distracted.

Song Qingshu had no choice but to make He Feng stand at the back of the class. He could have sat at his desk, but there weren't enough. Luo Xiancai, who had just noticed, had already gone out to find one.

This was the first class after a two-month break, and Song Qingshu didn't dare teach math, but Chinese.

He'd just asked Zhu Chengfei if he could teach chemistry and math. The new male teacher was good at physics and math, and Jin Yan was good at literature, as well as ideology, morality, and history.

They all felt their English wasn't good enough, and they might have Song Qingshu as the primary English teacher.

During the first class, Song Qingshu had already taught Xiaohua and Xiaohei several times at home and felt confident that there was no problem.

Aside from the lack of class activity, everything else was fine. Song Qingshu figured it might be because he wasn't familiar with the children.

There was actually another problem: there were fewer girls than boys, barely half the number.

There were fewer than twenty girls and around thirty boys, a serious imbalance.

Song Qingshu knew that many people in this era couldn't afford to go to school, perhaps even supporting only one child. Most would still choose a boy.

He packed his bag, said class was dismissed, and walked out. He Feng noticed he wasn't in the right mood and asked what was wrong.

They walked all the way to the office. Song Qingshu didn't explain the reason. He Feng pulled a nougat from his pocket and peeled it open. "You did a great job in the first class, so I'm giving you a reward."

Just then, Jin Yan came in, books in hand, dressed up. Song Qingshu had noticed that Old Jin's family was better off.

He Feng explained that Old Jin had been to school and was an intellectual, the village accountant, who had sent his son to the army and his daughter to school. He knew

they had provided for everything, and he knew how much more he would enjoy in the future.

"Principal Luo said that we are all young people and we should sit in the same office and talk, so I came directly over." Jin Yan has a round, fair face and a little flesh, and looks very approachable.

She was wearing a long skirt that fell to her ankles, and the canvas shoes underneath looked different in style.

"Okay." Song Qingshu smiled.

"Young Master." She greeted He Feng, who nodded, picked up the teacup beside him, poured a cup of hot tea, and took out the red dates from Song Qingshu's pocket, breaking them a little before dipping them in.

Jin Yan saw this and took out the brown sugar she had brought with her, "Put a little of this, old brown sugar, it's not that sweet."

She was cheerful and generous, and with her around, He Feng wasn't worried that Song Qingshu wouldn't fit in, so he chatted with him and Jin Yan for a while.

The new male teacher knocked on the door and pushed it open when Jin Yan said come in. He was wearing the same shoes as Jin Yan, looked tall and thin, and wore glasses. He

looked very refined and scholarly, and greeted them.

Jin Yan complained about why he came so late, but she was helping him pack his things and asked him to sit across from her.

Song Qingshu noticed that the two had a special relationship, so he took He Feng out. After all, He Feng had promised him that he would go to work today.

He Feng stood outside the office, touched his hair, and held his hand again. "The class was great, Teacher Song. Don't worry about anything else."

The soft hands were as cold as ever. He Feng squeezed them, and only said goodbye to him reluctantly after his hands had warmed them up enough.

Song Qingshu's lips and eyes were pale pink, and he pursed his lips and said goodbye.

He Feng said he would pick him up after school at noon, and Song Qingshu agreed.

What He Feng didn't expect was that he hadn't gone far on his bike when he saw a man who looked very similar to He Ping. He sped up to catch up and found that it was indeed He Ping.

Before the man saw him, he held a piece of dogtail grass in his mouth and kicked the person in front of him.

He parked his bike at the intersection, picked up a broom from the door of the house next door, and walked over. Only when he got closer did he hear He Ping yelling something.

"Give me the money. You came to school today. I don't believe you didn't bring tuition!" He was bald and had scars on his face. He looked really scary when he got angry.

Song Qingshu was just scared by him and was pushed to the ground.

Seeing that he was about to kick forward again, there was a little kid in front of him. He looked so thin that he didn't have much meat on his body. He held his stomach and cried, saying that he had no money.

He Feng was immediately furious and wanted to beat He Ping to death.

He picked up the broom in his hand, held the broom head in his hand, and hit He Ping on the back with a thin wooden stick.

He Ping, who was hit by the stick before his foot landed, covered his back and turned his head, "Who the hell hit me!" He

turned his head and saw that it was He Feng and turned to run. The boy who was kicked by him was still curled up on the ground, and stretched out his foot to trip He Ping.

He fell to the ground and turned his face to the side in panic. This time he fell hard. His face was scratched by the small stones on the ground and a few drops of blood came out.

He Feng walked over and hit him several times with a wooden stick. He Ping kept shouting that he was wrong and would not dare to do it again, so let him go.

This was not because he knew he was wrong, but because he was just afraid.

He Feng knew that he was just afraid of being beaten and afraid of the pain, so he pretended not to hear and stepped on his back to prevent him from getting up. He

also reached out to help the boy who was crying next to him and asked him: "Does it hurt?"

The little boy was almost scared silly, and he covered his stomach and dared not move, only shaking his head.

He Feng was afraid that he was kicked in the internal organs and could not speak, so he came up and pulled his clothes to take a look.

The boy was pulling at his clothes, but when he found that He Feng had no ill intentions, he let go. There was a rolled up black cloth inside.

One look and you knew what it was.

The places where he was kicked left red marks on his body. The skin of a teenager is also tender, and it will definitely turn blue and purple by the evening. "School is in session, go to school."

"Don't worry, you won't be able to touch him anymore."

"If you feel any discomfort, ask the teacher to take you to the brigade."

The boy sat up, his face still wet with tears, leaving traces of marks. His clothes were wrinkled and not very clean, and he was pulling at them himself, trying to straighten them out.

He wiped his face, ran towards the school, and left the alley.

Seeing the little boy running away, He Feng turned the alleyway to the school and turned He Ping over on the ground.

"You like to kick people, don't you? You like to ask children for money, don't you?" His tone became fierce. After all, he was a man who had been in the army, and when he was angry, he looked much more frightening than usual.

He Ping, lying on the ground, was so scared that he quickly begged for mercy, "I won't dare to do it again, sir. Really, I won't dare to do it again." He clasped his hands together and kept begging.

He Feng looked at him. "Which hand pushed him?"

He Ping knew who he was talking about without explanation: the educated youth from the city who had fallen to the ground, looking like

he was about to die. He Ping was frightened even then. Although he loved to do petty thievery, he wouldn't dare cause a death.

"I didn't mean to do it." His face twisted with fear, his features constricted.

"I didn't mean to do it," He Feng said, his voice slowed, and he raised an eyebrow with a sneer. "Then you did it on purpose."

"If you don't tell me, I'll break both of your hands. How's that?"

He Feng said, his hand already resting on his shoulder

. In He Ping's eyes, he looked like a demon about to devour someone, offering no chance for mercy. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you! This one, this one." He Ping extended his right hand, trembling, his arrogance completely gone.

He Feng placed his hand on his right wrist bone. With a snap, He Ping's wrist dropped like a broken branch.

"Ahhh!"

The sound, like a pig being butchered, scared the birds from the nearby poplar trees away.

"If you like to kick people, then you can try it too." He Feng took a half step back and kicked him on the shin. The kick was quite powerful and the pain made He Ping hold his shin and tremble.

A fishy smell came, and He Feng frowned at his wet pants, "You only know how to bully the weak and fear the strong. Your parents can't control you, so I'm here to teach you a lesson."

"I will pay for your medical treatment. Be a good person in the future, otherwise, I will beat you every time I see you."

He Feng knew in his heart that the shin bone was at most fractured, and the wrist bone could be connected.

It's just to teach him a lesson.