Ultimate Teacher

At the Fresh Breeze Teahouse.

Fang Yan personally boiled water and brewed the tea. Pouring a cup for Huang Wenqiang, he smiled and said, "The setup here is a bit modest. Next time, when the opportunity arises, I'll brew a proper cup to entertain esteemed guests."

"What kind of esteemed guest am I?" Huang Wenqiang chuckled, taking a small sip. "I have to admit, the tea you brew does have a unique flavor. Watching your technique earlier, it's clear you're quite skilled. Are you a tea connoisseur, Mr. Fang?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Influenced by my elders, I've taken a liking to tea over time. After drinking and observing a lot, I've picked up a thing or two." Fang Yan glanced at Huang Haoran, who was quietly sitting beside them, content to play a supporting role. "Haoran, do you like tea?"

"I do," Haoran replied. "But most of my classmates prefer Coca-Cola."

"Maybe they'll come to appreciate tea in the future," Fang Yan said with a smile.

"What makes you say that?" asked Huang Wenqiang, ever the keen journalist, sensing an interesting angle.

"I'm planning to introduce them to some knowledge about tea culture," Fang Yan replied cheerfully. "Tea culture is a national treasure. Brewing and drinking tea can calm the mind, cultivate oneself, and enhance personal qualities and cultural literacy. It's a shame to let such a good tradition fade away. One person can't carry it on, nor can one family. But if a group of people, a whole nation, comes together to preserve it, why worry that our tea culture won't flourish?"

"But tea ceremonies aren't part of the language curriculum. If you teach this... aren't you afraid of being fired from the school again?" Huang Wenqiang asked skeptically.

Fang Yan didn't answer directly. Instead, he looked at Haoran and asked, "Haoran, do you think your classmates would enjoy a class on tea culture?"

"They would," Haoran's eyes lit up. "I'm sure many classmates would love it."

"Do you think it would be beneficial for you all?" Fang Yan continued.

"Absolutely," Haoran nodded enthusiastically. "We want to learn some extracurricular knowledge; we want to explore things we're interested in. But there's so much content in the textbooks, too much homework, no time, no way, so in the end, we can't pursue it. Actually, everyone really likes these kinds of things. Why else would the school's dance club and taekwondo club have so many members? Doesn't that prove everyone enjoys them?"

Fang Yan was very satisfied with Haoran's answer. He then turned to Huang Wenqiang and said, "Because it's not on the exam, teachers don't teach it—is that really for the students' good?"

"But nowadays, all schools focus solely on grades. If you delay the students' learning..."

"Who says students who learn about tea culture can't get high scores?" Fang Yan retorted. "A semester lasts several months; how many pages are there in a language textbook? If you study earnestly, one month is enough."

"Why do our students need so much time and still haven't learned well? Because they're tired of studying," Fang Yan answered his own question. "All day long, memorizing who was born in which year, who died in which year, what viewpoint an article represents, what mood a poem expresses—the authors have been dead for so many years; who really knows what they were expressing? Who knows the poet's mood when writing the poem? Maybe they were constipated and forced out those lines while stuck in the bathroom. Yet we insist on giving it some self-righteous interpretation and tell students that's the correct answer. Are those interpreters the authors themselves? Are they the poets? If not, why do they think their interpretation is correct? Why can't students have their own interpretations? Are students' interpretations necessarily wrong?"

"If every student has their own interpretation, then how do we determine their scores?" Huang Wenqiang countered.

"Why must they conform to standardized thinking to earn points?" Fang Yan sighed. "Literature is art, and art is inherently subjective—yet we use scores to rank students first, second, third, as if the one who aligns most with the poet is the best, but we can't produce a single poet ourselves."

"Interesting perspective," Huang chuckled. "Would you mind if I organize your thoughts and publish them in the Huaxia Daily? The previous article had a significant impact among parents. If we publish a second one, it could reignite the discussion."

"Sure, but please don't use my name," Fang Yan said.

"Why not?"

"Because..." How could Fang Yan tell them that he didn't want to become famous for fear that the hot-tempered Ye Wenrou might suddenly come looking for him? "I'm a low-key person who enjoys tranquility. I don't like being affected by mundane things like fame and fortune."

"There aren't many good teachers like you," Huang Wenqiang sighed. "No wonder Haoran says you're different from other teachers."

"If I have forty students, I hope to teach forty geniuses in different fields, not talents molded in the same way," Fang Yan said. "That's where I'm different from other teachers."

"Mr. Fang, your noble character..."

"Will there be a manuscript fee for the article?"

"There will be."

"I'll donate my fee to Haoran to buy books."

"No, no, the fee is yours. I'll have Haoran bring it to you."

"You're too kind, Mr. Huang..."

"Mr. Fang, please don't be too modest."

Since he had two language classes in the afternoon, Fang Yan didn't leave work early.

He was sitting in the office reading when Chen Dahai walked in, sauntering over with a teacup in hand.

"Ah, Mr. Chen is here."

"What's brought our math group leader to inspect the language department?"

"Old Chen, come have some tea. I have some Lao Shan tea from back home—it's quite fragrant."

Chen Dahai was the leader of the first-year math group and also the homeroom teacher of Class Nine. He was on friendly terms with the vice-principal, the dean, and other school leaders. So among the ordinary teachers, he was indeed someone worth currying favor with.

Chen Dahai greeted the teachers with a smile, then stood in front of Fang Yan, looking down at him. "Mr. Fang, here are the leave notes from students Zheng Guodong, Chen Tao, and Li Yang—they're not feeling well and asked me for leave. I told them to go home and rest."

After the incident with Zhu Fang falling into the water, Zheng Guodong, Chen Tao, and Li Yang had come to Fang Yan with sarcastic remarks, almost getting into a conflict with other students who defended Fang Yan.

Now, having heard from their families that Fang Yan not only didn't leave but was reinstated as their language teacher—they felt too embarrassed to attend his classes.

It's impossible to have someone else deliver their leave notes; last time they did that, Fang Yan directly wrote on the note: "Not approved." They were even less willing to lose face by asking Fang Yan for leave in person.

So they came up with the idea to approach Chen Dahai. Isn't Chen Dahai their homeroom teacher? Just ask him for leave directly.

Fang Yan understood their thinking clearly. Taking the leave notes, he looked at them and asked with concern, "Are students Zheng Guodong, Chen Tao, and Li Yang seriously ill?"

"It's nothing major," Chen Dahai replied with a smile. He thought, Fang Yan, let's see how long you can stay arrogant. It's one thing to offend others, but even the son of Director Zheng holds a grudge against you. How good can your days at Vermilion Bird High be?

"They haven't been hospitalized? I can visit them at the hospital," Fang Yan said.

"—They're not hospitalized," Chen Dahai felt a bit uncomfortable. What's with his way of speaking? Who goes to the hospital for minor ailments?

"I see they only asked for two periods off—is that enough time to rest?" Fang Yan glanced at the class schedule on the desk. "Tomorrow's first two periods are my language class, and the entire afternoon the day after is also my class. How about they apply for those five periods off as well?"

"Mr. Fang..." Chen Dahai's face darkened. "Students ask for leave based on their physical condition. How can you encourage them to take so much time off?"

Fang Yan smiled. "I'm just worried they'll suddenly have a stomachache during my language class tomorrow or claim to have... well, other issues during my class the day after. So I'm suggesting they take all the time off at once—isn't that better? It's convenient for them and for me."

"Seems like you have a bias against these three students?" Chen Dahai began to put a label on Fang Yan.

"No, not at all," Fang Yan waved his hand. "Even though you've plotted against me behind my back, I won't treat Chen Tao differently just because he's your son. Although this child has a bad nature, he's still a child, and children have a chance to turn over a new leaf. As teachers, we should have confidence in our students."

"Fang Yan, watch your mouth! Who has a bad nature? Who plotted against you?"

"Chen Tao has a bad nature, and Mr. Chen plotted against me..." Fang Yan sighed. "We're all colleagues; why force me to spell it out? How can we get along in the future?"

"You—you... Come with me to see the principal!" Chen Dahai was about to explode with anger. He grabbed Fang Yan's arm, trying to drag him to see the school leaders.

"Mr. Chen, don't be so impulsive," Fang Yan advised gently. "The fewer people who know about this, the better. If you make a scene, everyone will find out. It won't be good for you or for student Chen Tao—Chen Tao is still a child; there's still hope for him."

Chen Tao is a child, so there's hope for him. As for you, Mr. Chen—well, you're beyond help.

Other teachers couldn't sit by any longer and came over to mediate.

"Yes, Mr. Chen, calm down. Let's talk this out..."

"Fang Yan, you're going too far. How can you talk to Group Leader Chen like that? How did he sabotage you? If you have the guts, tell everyone!"

"Youngsters these days are so unreliable. I don't know why the school hires such kids..."

"Hey, everyone..." Fang Yan glanced sideways at the teachers who were clearly taking sides. "I don't mind you sucking up to him, but don't drag me into it. I've got backing too. You all know Principal Lu Chaoge, right? I'm with her."

"See, you're all bullying the weak and fearing the strong. Now that I've said I have backing, you're too scared to speak."

"—" The teachers felt they couldn't stay in this office any longer.

"Fang Yan!" Chen Dahai was trembling with rage, pointing at Fang Yan and shouting, "I will make sure you get kicked out of Vermilion Bird High. Mark my words!"

"Your son said the same thing, and he was much more convincing than you," Fang Yan replied calmly. He wasn't about to let empty threats get to him.