Chapter 17: Preparation

Lin Si strode into the teachers’ office and, upon seeing Zhang Kaiguo, asked bluntly, “Old Zhang, I heard you got married?”

His eyes locked onto Zhang Kaiguo’s, twinkling with a hint of mischief. Though his face still bore bruises, his unruly spirit remained undiminished.

Zhang Kaiguo sat at his desk grading papers. Hearing Lin Si’s words, he paused slightly, then looked up with a resigned smile. “Who told you that?”

His voice was gentle, but his eyes revealed a trace of weariness, evidently troubled by the sudden question.

Lin Si raised an eyebrow nonchalantly. “The students in your class.”

As he spoke, he casually pulled over a chair and sat opposite Zhang Kaiguo, leaning forward with his hands resting on his knees, clearly ready to delve into the topic.

Zhang Kaiguo sighed softly. He knew his students loved gossip, but hadn’t expected his own marriage to become a subject of their chatter.

Looking at Lin Si’s carefree demeanor, he wondered how best to get rid of this “troublemaker.”

“Do you really believe what students say? Stop stirring up trouble,” Zhang Kaiguo chided mildly, his gaze still calm.

Lin Si laughed, flashing a row of white teeth. “Come on, Old Zhang, don’t keep it under wraps. If you really got married, you better invite us to your wedding sweets.”

A sly glint danced in his eyes, as if he wouldn’t give up until he got the truth.

Zhang Kaiguo stood, tidied the papers on his desk, and deliberately put on a stern face. “Alright, alright, it’s just a rumor. Now go back to your classroom—don’t waste my time.”

He headed toward the door, opening it and gesturing with a polite “please,” eager to end the pointless conversation.

Seeing this, Lin Si realized he wouldn’t get anything more out of Zhang Kaiguo today. He stood slowly and sauntered to the door.

Pausing at the threshold, he glanced back with a smile. “Old Zhang, don’t lie to me now.”

Then, with a swagger, he left the office, leaving Zhang Kaiguo shaking his head in resignation.

Zhang Kaiguo walked steadily into the classroom, his eyes serious and resolute as they swept slowly across every corner.

He cleared his throat softly—a small sound, yet like a clap of thunder that instantly silenced the once noisy room.

The students all turned their eyes toward the podium, a mixture of curiosity and unease in their gaze.

“Class,” Zhang Kaiguo’s voice was low but powerful, resonating through the quiet room, “recently, some baseless rumors have been circulating in our class. These rumors are like a cancer, slowly eroding our harmony and unity.”

His expression was severe, brows slightly furrowed as he looked with some helplessness at the children before him.

Stepping forward slightly, he clenched his fists gently and continued, “We are a collective, a group full of hope and vitality. We come to school to learn and improve ourselves—not to spread unfounded rumors. Have you thought about the harm these rumors cause? How they poison the atmosphere of our class?”

His voice rose with passion and strength, each word laden with meaning.

“School is a pure land, the cradle of our growth. Here, we should respect and trust one another, not use rumors to slander others.”

As he spoke, Zhang Kaiguo gestured emphatically, his movements wide and animated, his emotions evident.

“To those who fabricate rumors—do you think this is fun? You are mistaken! This is an utterly irresponsible act, trampling on others’ dignity and damaging the honor of our class.”

His gaze fixed firmly on the students, hoping they would understand his earnestness.

“From now on, I expect everyone to consciously resist rumors; do not believe them, do not spread them. If I catch anyone conspiring behind backs or disseminating falsehoods again, I will show no mercy!”

His tone was resolute. He slammed his hand on the podium, producing a loud bang that reverberated through the classroom, striking a chord in the students’ hearts.

“We must focus our energy on learning, on improving our character and academic performance. Let us work together to create a positive, uplifting environment in our class.”

His voice gradually softened as he continued.

“I believe that as long as we unite, we can overcome these rumors and let our class shine brightly once more!”

He smiled with satisfaction as he looked at the students, as if envisioning a bright future for the class.

Yet, after Zhang Kaiguo’s passionate speech, the students responded weakly, clearly not fully absorbing his words.

A languid atmosphere settled over the classroom, when suddenly, Fu Xiaotao excitedly grabbed Fu Siqiao’s hand.

Her eyes sparkled like countless stars, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“The campus cultural festival is coming up soon. Siqiao, what have you prepared?”

Fu Xiaotao’s voice was clear and melodious, ringing like a silver bell in Fu Siqiao’s ear.

Fu Siqiao tilted her head slightly, pondering for a moment. Images of herself immersed in her world of painting surfaced in her mind, and she answered, “I’m planning to paint.”

Fu Xiaotao leapt up in excitement, her ponytail swinging joyfully as if dancing.

“Awesome! Siqiao, your painting skills are amazing—this time you’ll surely amaze everyone.”

She clasped Fu Siqiao’s hands tightly, hugging her with enthusiasm.

Infected by her zeal, Fu Siqiao smiled and asked, “Xiaotao, you’re the entertainment committee member—what’s the class preparing? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Her eyes widened expectantly.

Fu Xiaotao winked mysteriously, then leaned toward Fu Siqiao’s ear and whispered, “Well, I’ll tell you—Xu Zhixing is preparing a violin performance.”

In Fu Siqiao’s mind, the image of Xu Zhixing playing violin appeared instantly—his graceful posture, focused expression, and the lingering melody seemed to echo right beside her.

“Wow, Xu Zhixing’s violin will definitely be beautiful,” Fu Siqiao exclaimed sincerely.

“Yes, and many other classmates have prepared various acts.”

Releasing Fu Siqiao’s hands, Fu Xiaotao began to chatter excitedly.

“Some are doing dance performances—classical, modern—each with its own style; others will recite classic poetry; some will even perform magic tricks, ready to dazzle at the festival.”

Her hands moved animatedly as her expressions shifted—from anticipation for the dances, to admiration for the recitations, to curiosity about the magic.

Fu Siqiao listened attentively, a surge of anticipation for the campus festival swelling within her.

“Siqiao, you have to prepare your painting well. I believe you’ll definitely bring glory to our class,” Fu Xiaotao’s voice pulled her back from her daydream.

Fu Siqiao nodded firmly, her eyes shining with determination. “I will, Xiaotao. My painting will not disappoint—just wait and see.”