Chapter 41

Chapter 41

A school under No. 17 High School’s administration.

In the courtyard, a little boy was bored, tossing a beanbag. Adults passed by occasionally, glancing at him before walking away.

The boy’s name was Jiang Yue, just eight years old.

Though young, he already had a year of so-called "work experience," while his official records falsely listed him as eighteen.

He was Jiang Guangdong’s biological grandson.

No. 17 High was too high-profile, and Principal Zheng was a stickler for rules. Otherwise, Jiang Guangdong would have kept the boy under his own watch. The child used to attend school, but now he simply roamed the campus unchecked—no one dared rein him in, and no one could. Jiang Guangdong was notoriously overprotective; anyone who dared criticize the boy would face consequences.

That morning, Jiang Yue’s father had dumped him at the school on his way to work.

During the day, Jiang Yue could play with other children during their breaks, but when classes were in session, he refused to attend. He roamed wherever he pleased, with no discipline whatsoever. Even he got bored eventually. At that moment, he was being a little menace, sneaking up behind someone carrying a basin of food, unnoticed.

The person holding the basin was Xiao He from the kitchen, carrying a pot of piping-hot soup.

Jiang Yue’s shifty eyes darted around before he suddenly shoved Xiao He.

The soup in Xiao He’s hands was already near boiling, sloshing dangerously in the basin. Even a slight jolt—let alone a push—could send it flying. Losing his balance, Xiao He instinctively turned around, and the contents of the basin splashed directly onto Jiang Yue’s face.

Two older students on duty nearby, carrying a bucket of vegetables together, stood there, stunned at the sight, unable to move.

Jiang Yue screamed, "I’m burning! I’m burning! You damn cook!" before bawling his eyes out.

Xiao He was also terrified. Not realizing it was the boy now covered in veggies, he quickly dragged him to the nearest faucet and turned on cold water to rinse the burns.

His reaction was correct—hosing down burns fast is first aid 101.

But Jiang Yue didn’t understand this and resisted the cold water, flailing like a caught fish. By the time onlookers gathered, his face had turned beet red, tender to the touch.

Old Tang, the kitchen supervisor, panicked. "That’s Principal Jiang’s grandson! How did this happen?"

No one usually dared to provoke him.

Jiang Yue screamed, "I’m telling my grandpa! You’re so fired!"

Xiao He got the job through his dad, Chef He, who had once been the school’s head chef—even the former principal loved his cooking. Like he didn’t have pull?

"You pushed me first," Xiao He retorted firmly.

Soon, Jiang Yue was rushed to the hospital.

Due to the burns and the delayed treatment, parts of his face had begun to swell.

Principal Jiang arrived shortly after, heartbroken at the sight of his grandson’s head swollen like a balloon. He bellowed, "Who did this?"

Jiang Yue tearfully pointed at Xiao He. "Him! He even poured water on me!"

Xiao He, who had stayed behind to help at the hospital, was still there.

But Principal Jiang didn’t care. Wielding his authority as the principal, he immediately sought to punish Xiao He.

Xiao He, though young, wasn’t about to roll over. After all, who didn’t have someone backing them up?

Soon, Chef He arrived at the hospital.

First, he bowed apologetically, offering apologies, then directly told Principal Jiang that the matter could be resolved through negotiation between the two families.

But Principal Jiang wouldn’t let it go. Pointing at Xiao He, he launched into a long lecture, flaunting his authority: "Let me tell you about this young man of yours. Whether it was intentional or not, I won’t say, but a child this young got hurt on the face. If it’s nothing serious, fine, but if it leaves a scar, I’ll make your whole family regret it. And what was your son doing pouring cold water on my grandson? In this weather, cold water could make someone seriously ill, you know. Anyway, this matter isn’t over. I’ve already called the police, and we’ll pursue it to the end."

Principal Jiang’s wife also arrived. Seeing her grandson’s red and swollen face, she held him close, heartbroken as if he were her own.

She wanted to tear Xiao He to pieces.

By the time Chef He arrived, he had already gotten the full story. It wasn’t entirely his son’s fault—this family was completely unreasonable. If the child hadn’t pushed Xiao He, the soup in Xiao He’s hands would never have spilled onto the boy’s face: "...And let’s be fair here. Go ask any doctor how to treat a burn. If Xiao He hadn’t poured cold water on your grandson, the swelling would be much worse by now."

The doctor had actually said the same thing earlier, but Principal Jiang refused to listen.

Then Principal Jiang’s wife arrived, holding a brick phone, shouting into her phone in the hallway, calling in favors. Her voice was loud and shrill as she declared emphatically that she would have Xiao He locked up:

"The nature of this is just too malicious. Such a young child—what if he’s scarred for life? If our child turns out fine, then fine. But if there are any lasting effects, he deserves at least ten years in jail. Help me contact Director Wang and ask how this should be handled!"

Xiao He was only eighteen. Hearing talk of a ten-year sentence terrified him.

When the police came to question him, he could barely speak clearly.

Fortunately, the officers were impartial, with no connections to the Jiang family. After arriving, they investigated the whole incident. Not only was Xiao He not at fault—he had even taken active steps to mitigate the damage—but the whole thing had started because the child had acted out.

An eight-year-old knows better.

The police only took Xiao He’s testimony, recorded the incident, and prepared to leave after questioning.

Principal Jiang’s wife, Yang Juan, was furious: "What’s going on? How can you not detain him in a case like this? Isn’t this a criminal offense?"

She insisted on having Xiao He taken away, even though Jiang Yue had mostly recovered by then, his face treated with a cooling ointment and no longer red.

Chef He gritted his teeth in anger: "The Jiangs are crossing the line."

Xiao He was his only son, born when Master He was nearly forty, and just as precious to their family.

Not only had Jiang Yue been burned—Xiao He’s injuries were worse. His hands were still bright red and untreated.

And if anyone was to blame for the incident, it was Jiang Yue.

Xiao He had calmed down by now: "Dad, have you heard? Jiang Yue got into the school by pulling strings and has a no-work job."

This was an open secret at the school, and Chef He knew it well.

But people like them couldn’t challenge the Jiang family. The Jiangs weren’t just represented by Jiang Guangdong—they had people in every department. Otherwise, Yang Juan wouldn’t have been so brazen, throwing around threats of a ten-year sentence.

Chef He sighed helplessly: "What now?"

Xiao He said: "I’m going to file a formal complaint—to the Discipline Inspection Commission, to the Education Bureau, and to Principal Zheng of No. 17 High School!"

————

The editor who published this article ran a big feature on Xu Meng’s story, vividly detailing her achievements—thanks in large part to Xiao Bai’s influence, as the editor was acquainted with him.

When she got the newspaper, Xu Meng said to Feng Yanwen: "Don’t worry, I think the railway bureau’s training program is in the bag now."

As she spoke, Feng Yanwen was sewing a quilt cover, every move radiating the grace of a devoted wife and mother.

Feng Yanwen said: "That couldn’t have been easy." Wasn’t Jiang Haohao the shoo-in?

But in fact, her goal had already been achieved.

She wanted to start a remedial class, and that was what she had been working on recently.

The teaching materials were already prepared—using the existing textbooks for the first year of junior high. However, considering the younger age range of the learners, Feng Yanwen broke down each lesson further, designing more interactive exercises for reinforcement and practice.

Elementary school students might not have the same comprehension skills as junior high students, but younger children are more receptive to learning a new language.

The class was a success, and many students came up to her afterward to inquire about tutoring. As a result, Feng Yanwen now wanted to open a bigger class. Even if the railway bureau project didn't work out, she wouldn’t be too upset.

Xu Meng said, "That's too bad! If the railway bureau project had gone through, the training fees for these sessions would have been tens of thousands."

Feng Yanwen teased her, "You’re all about the money, aren’t you?"

As they were talking, Liu Jin called from outside, "Ms. Feng, someone’s here to see you."

Feng Yanwen kept talking with Xu Meng while getting up.

At this hour, people usually came to inquire about tutoring.

Xu Meng followed her out, still sticking close to her mom despite her age.

Feng Yanwen said, "I only have so much energy."

Xu Meng replied, "After the gaokao, I’ll help you."

Feng Yanwen shook her head. "You work hard enough as it is. Just relax during your break."

If business picked up, she could hire help, but for now, it wasn’t that busy. Tutoring mostly took place in the evenings and on weekends, leaving her pretty open from Monday to Saturday mornings.

Chatting and laughing, they reached the door.

Standing at the entrance were a father and son. The son looked about the same age as Xu Meng, while the father appeared to be around Granny Xue’s age.

Feng Yanwen was puzzled. "You are...?"

Mr. He cut to the chase. "Are you Teacher Feng?"

Feng Yanwen nodded, though she edged back cautiously.

Xu Meng asked, "What’s the matter?"

Mr. He clenched his teeth. "I’ve found out some things from the past. I heard you were doing well until the Jiang family took your position. Now, I have something to tell you—"

——————

When Jiang Yue was brought home, his face had already improved.

But Yang Juan still fumed, "They even claimed our Yueyue pushed him. Is Yueyue that kind of child?"

Jiang Yue, his face flushed, complained, "Grandma, it hurts so much! Make sure he loses his job and goes to jail!"

Despite being just a few years old, the child was already full of spite, always threatening to have people sent away.

Initially, Jiang Guangdong had arranged for him to go to elementary school, hoping he’d attend classes and make friends. But over time, teachers avoided him, and students were afraid to play with him. Yet, the Jiang family never realized how problematic this was.

Unnoticed, Jiang Yue had become a schoolyard bully.

He never had a formal education or learned how to interact normally with peers.

To people like Jiang Guangdong, none of this mattered. Jiang Yue had been receiving a salary since the age of seven, securing the iron rice bowl of a teaching position, guaranteeing he'd always be ahead of others. Once he raised his daughter, she would take over and nurture the next generation.

Education?

What's the use of all that book learning?

After Jiang Haohao returned, she also heard about Jiang Yue’s injury and held him tight to comfort him.

While the family was chatting and laughing, someone started banging loudly on the door.

They lived in school-provided housing, and visitors at this hour usually came quietly. Jiang Guangdong asked irritably, "Who is it?"

Yang Juan got up and went to open the door.

Two uniformed officers stood outside and immediately asked, "Which one of you is Jiang Guangdong?"

Jiang Guangdong stood up. "That’s me. What’s the matter?"

"And which ones are Jiang Haohao and Jiang Yue?"

Yang Juan’s heart jumped—she assumed these men were sent by her brother-in-law to handle Jiang Yue’s case. She broke into a smile as she invited them in. "You must be sent by Director Wang. Listen, what happened today was absolutely outrageous. Look at our Jiang Yue—such a good boy, his face all messed up! And those two father and son act like nothing happened. They ought to be locked up for ten years, and even that wouldn’t be enough!"

The lead officer looked puzzled. He had started to reach into his pocket but withdrew his hand, giving the younger one a look.

The younger officer, sharp-eyed, managed a rare smile on his otherwise stern face.

At Yang Juan’s eager invitation, the two men took their seats.

As soon as they sat down, Jiang Haohao brought tea, flashing them an eager smile. She had known from a young age how to behave in different situations.

The older officer asked, "Tell us again what happened during the day."

His gaze swept over Jiang Yue—a kid who looked barely school-aged, yet his file said he had graduated from a teachers’ college and had been assigned to an administrative post at the elementary school for a year. The boy’s face was beet red for some reason.

That's how these officials worked—even though everything had been stated and recorded during the day, they came back at night to ask again.

But since her family needed their help, and even with her brother-in-law’s connections, they had to cooperate.

So Yang Juan patiently recounted the day’s events in detail.

The older officer asked, "You’re saying that while everyone else was in class, he was outside playing?"

This matched Principal Zheng’s report—the boy likely wasn’t attending school.

Yang Juan hesitated. This was embarrassing to admit, and even if these men were sent by her brother-in-law, such probing questions felt inappropriate.

Jiang Guangdong, with his permanent smile, fished out a beat-up cigarette case and offered them each a smoke. Neither refused. The older one glanced at the cigarette, smirked, and stuck it behind his ear.

The younger one had initially intended to decline, but seeing his superior’s action, he figured there was a reason. Instead, he took out his wallet and slipped the cigarette inside.

Just before stowing it away, he noticed it was a Chunghwa.

Interesting—Furongwang pack with Chunghwas inside.

The older officer looked around pointedly. "Principal Jiang, you’re doing pretty well for yourself."

Principal Jiang was taken aback by the abrupt remark and forced a laugh. "Oh, just scraping by. The whole family works, so naturally, we’re a bit better off than single-income households."

If the entire family was employed, even without any under-the-table income, with this many members each earning five hundred yuan a month, they’d be considered a high-income working-class family in the capital. That included this little kid—Principal Zheng, when reporting them, had specifically mentioned his own oversight in allowing such a young child to collect a salary.

Not to mention Jiang Guangdong’s control over the school cafeteria’s procurement budget and the bidding for the campus convenience store...

The older officer spoke again. "The whole family works—even little Jiang Yue here?"