Chapter 038 Get Out

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Zhang Tan was having a streak of bad luck.

During math class, as usual, he couldn't understand a word and was absorbed in writing his novel instead.

Perhaps because he had been reborn, the fusion of his former self and his current self had dramatically improved his memory. Many vague recollections gradually resurfaced, becoming clear and vivid. His young body, with its vigorous endocrine levels, kept his mind active at all times.

The experience of an adult, the memory of two lifetimes, and the sharpness of youth—these combined to make Zhang Tan feel as though every moment he wrote, inspiration poured forth effortlessly.

Compared to Mr. Luo Jinsong's tedious explanations of twisted functions, he much preferred writing his novel.

For the past few weeks, all had gone smoothly, but today, for reasons unknown, Mr. Luo must have had his wires crossed. He strode over to Zhang Tan, bluntly demanding, "Hand it over."

"What?" Zhang Tan had already slipped his manuscript between the pages of his textbook and feigned ignorance.

Mr. Luo raised his voice, "I've been watching you for quite some time now."

"Uh, Teacher, should I thank you for your attention?"

"Don't get cheeky with me. Every class, you never look up. What are you doing down there? Stand up!"

The entire class turned to look at Zhang Tan.

Ordinary students would be nervous and flustered, but Zhang Tan, a thirty-year-old uncle, had cultivated a skin thick enough to withstand any humiliation. As he stood, he even managed a wry smile, as if to say he found the situation absurd.

Mr. Luo glared at him, "Do you look like a student at all? Do you think this is a cafeteria or a teahouse? So free and easy! Hand it over, don’t think I don’t know—you're always scribbling some nonsense."

This was hardly nonsense; this was martial arts fiction, this was money!

Zhang Tan sighed. So many class periods had passed in peace—each minding their own business. Why disturb this tranquility?

But since the other was a teacher, basic respect was due. Zhang Tan obediently opened his textbook, handed over the manuscript, and tried to ease the tension, "Teacher, please calm down. You teach, I don’t disturb you. Why get angry? Anger harms the body, and health is the foundation of revolution..."

Obviously, Mr. Luo was furious at Zhang Tan's "adult-like" demeanor and couldn't stand it. He jabbed toward the door, "If you don’t want to attend my class, you can get out right now!"

Zhang Tan disliked the word "get out." In that instant, his respect evaporated.

"Rude."

He turned his head and gazed out the window.

A calm provocation: sarcasm +1.

"What are you, anyway? What did you just say?" Mr. Luo glanced at the manuscript, then shook it wildly, searching his mind for words to bolster his authority. "Let me tell you, Zhang Tan, don’t think you're so great—writing novels? You? Are you worthy? What is this, 'The Four Famous Constables Shake the Northeast'? Do you even know where the Northeast is? What nonsense!"

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A spark of anger flared within Zhang Tan; Mr. Luo's words were far too disparaging. Still, he managed to restrain himself, maintaining a shred of respect for the teacher. He replied coolly, "Before the Ming dynasty, east of Hangu Pass was called the Northeast; after the Ming, east of Shanhai Pass was known as the Northeast."

A calm provocation: sarcasm +2.

"You... you sure know a lot. Let’s see how you do in the midterm exam. How many points will you get in math? Write a few words and think you’re something special, huh? I’ll have a good talk with your homeroom teacher—no discipline at all!" Mr. Luo’s finger nearly jabbed Zhang Tan’s face.

Zhang Tan continued to stare out the window; pale clouds drifted, sunlight shimmered.

Then he spoke slowly, "Teacher, I registered as an arts student. I’m studying music. As long as I pass the minimum requirements for cultural courses, that’s enough."

A calm provocation: sarcasm +3.

"Perfect triple combo."

Suppressing his anger, Zhang Tan used the philosophy of mental victory to divert his attention. Having lived another life, at least he must have some composure. The teacher might be rough, but a little tolerance and it would pass. Still in school, there was no need for unpleasantness.

"You!" Mr. Luo flung Zhang Tan’s manuscript to the floor and shouted toward the window, "If you don’t want to be here, get out! My class doesn’t need you!"

Zhang Tan calmly patted Cao Yuchuan on the shoulder, motioning him to make room, then walked out.

In the hallway, he picked up his manuscript, tucked it back in his book, and nodded to Mr. Luo, "I’ll be going then."

And so, with a slightly swaggering gait, he left the classroom.

The entire class watched Zhang Tan’s departing figure, mesmerized.

This guy was truly formidable. They had seen students confront teachers, even students assaulting teachers, but under Mr. Luo’s furious tirade, Zhang Tan seemed as composed as an old monk, radiating indifference, as if he weren’t being expelled but merely raising his hand to go to the restroom.

No trace of the embarrassment common to students punished by teachers, and it was obvious Zhang Tan wasn’t pretending to be unfazed—he genuinely didn’t care about the situation.

"Hmph, people like him deserve to be thrown out," Liang Wei said gleefully to his seatmate.

He then glanced at the sixth row to see how Jing was reacting.

Coincidentally, Jing’s seatmate, Tang Tongxin, watched the doorway with admiration and said to Jing, "Wow, Zhang Tan is so cool."

Jing nodded in agreement.

The girls’ sense of right and wrong seemed a bit twisted.

They spoke quietly, but Liang Wei wasn’t far from them, and with the stiff, silent atmosphere in the classroom, he easily overheard their conversation.

His smug expression quickly darkened.

"Damn it, Zhang Tan isn’t cool at all. Once the math teacher tells the homeroom teacher, he’ll get what’s coming!"

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Hero or coward?

Zhang Tan couldn’t be bothered to ponder whether what he did today was right or wrong. He still respected teachers—at least nowadays, teachers genuinely hoped students would learn. But to treat a teacher with the awe and reverence expected of a typical high school student? His heart couldn’t accept that.

Mr. Luo Jinsong was at most in his thirties. Before being reborn, Zhang Tan himself was thirty—there wasn’t much difference.

"Sigh, should’ve checked the almanac before leaving home today."

With a sigh, Zhang Tan walked down the stairs, planning to buy a bottle of yogurt at the shop to calm his nerves.

He certainly wasn’t going to stand foolishly outside the classroom.

In truth, he didn’t take this conflict seriously at all. If trouble came, he’d deal with it. Mr. Luo would surely complain to his homeroom teacher, Yu Na. When the time came, he’d explain himself. Yu Na had just graduated from university, young, with a teacher’s worldview not yet fully formed, free from the stubbornness of older teachers—she should be easy to communicate with.

Especially since Yu Na was a woman.

Now, Zhang Tan, a man seasoned by life, eloquent and persuasive, found dealing with women a simple task.

"Boss, this yogurt is expired, isn’t it? Something’s off with the taste." Sipping the yogurt, Zhang Tan grinned at the window, eyeing the attractive, older young woman inside.

She was the daughter of Ms. Pei Wencui, head of the senior Chinese department. If he remembered right, she was in her senior year at a teachers college—though it was Suzhou College, which wasn’t very prestigious. Pei Wencui had tried several times to get her a teaching job at Shuandun Middle School, but failed. After idling here for over two years, she finally went to teach at Yangmiao Middle School.

When she was home, she helped run the family shop.

Because she was attractive, business was much better than the other shops.

"Impossible, it was delivered just this morning—fresh as can be." The young woman frowned, picked up another bottle and checked the production date. "It was produced today."

"The taste really is off. Try it yourself if you don’t believe me." Zhang Tan blinked innocently as he handed her the bottle.

She seemed to encounter this situation for the first time, took the bottle in confusion, unsure whether to drink it or not, caught in awkwardness.

――――――――

Singles’ Day had arrived.

Those with girlfriends should quickly enter three wrong passwords and lock their cards.

Those without should vote for Old Bai—today, Old Bai is at home, writing all day, three chapters!

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