Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

[The third set of national primary school broadcast gymnastics, now beginning, preparatory section...]

【Hey, who are you? Get out!】

"Ah—open the door! What are you doing? Which class are you in?"

After a series of piercing cracking sounds, the accompaniment stopped, and all the students and teachers looked at each other in bewilderment on the playground—what had happened?

The school leaders and the security guard were also running towards the broadcasting station.

[Hey, feed me—can you hear me? If you can, type 1...]

Um, esteemed leaders, teachers, and students, I'm so sorry to bother you.

[I am Zhou Jieneng from Class 2, Grade 3... no, I am Zhang Dabiao.]

[This was my first time speaking in front of the whole school, I was a little nervous, sorry.]

[I need to take a few minutes of your time; I have something to report to you all here.]

[I, Zhang Dabiao, am filing a formal complaint against Yan Bugui, the homeroom teacher of Class 2, Grade 3.]

……

Yan Bugui's face turned green. He turned to look at the teachers around him, as well as the leaders standing nearby—

We're doomed!

Zhang Dabiao asked the teachers and students in the broadcasting room to leave, then locked the door from the inside, tightened the handle with wire, and moved several cabinets and tables to block the door.

Then he recounted a few things in a very organized manner:

1. Why did I come here? Because Teacher Yan beat me badly. It hurts, my palm is still bleeding, and I can't feel it. I originally wanted to be a painter, but Teacher Yan personally cut off that path. However, as a student, I must respect my teacher and dare not fight back, so I can only come here to beg for mercy. Also, could you let me rest during the horse stance punishment? I have to squat for an hour at a time, and my thighs are cramping.

Second, not only that, my father passed away during the Chinese New Year, leaving me all alone at home. Teacher Yan is still pressuring me for some kind of tuition fee, but what exactly is a tuition fee? I don't understand! You know I'm not very bright; I only recently recovered. This tuition fee is supposedly ten years' worth, given by my father, and now that he's gone, I have to continue paying for it.

Thirdly, I just received the books two days ago, and you want me to memorize the whole thing? I really don't have that ability. If I did, I wouldn't have spent 10 years in elementary school.

Fourthly, there's this old man in the courtyard who offered me fifty yuan to get me expelled from school. I'll give him double that, okay? Just let me go. I still want to graduate from elementary school. If I don't graduate from elementary school, I won't be able to find a job. I'll just be waiting to die.

If you're willing to let me go, just name your price, and I'll sell everything I own, even my house, to get it for you. Please, just please stop hitting me; it really hurts, and I need to see a doctor soon.

Besides, could you please let me continue my studies? Don't worry, I haven't told you anything about you stealing chalk, draft paper, ink, letter paper, flower pots, chairs, pencils, envelopes, a small blackboard, and a blackboard eraser from the school.

Oh, I forgot to mention, you're a small business owner with a shop in Dongzhimen that you rent out; you sell flowers at the pigeon market for 5 yuan a pot; and you leave school early to go fishing when you don't have classes; you fine students and accept gifts and red envelopes from their parents—I haven't said a word about any of that. I'm very tight-lipped, so you can rest assured.

I just want you to stop hitting me. I still want to study, and I still want to draw.

Have pity on the child.

……

The whole school was in an uproar. The students were at a loss on the playground, especially Yan Jiekuang and Yan Jiefang, who both blushed and lowered their heads, not daring to speak.

Meanwhile, the students around them began to back away and start commenting on the two of them.

They knew Zhang Dabiao would retaliate, but they didn't expect the methods to be so extreme!

Zhang Dabiao saw the commotion on the playground downstairs, thought for a moment, and then offered an explanation.

"Well, let's keep things separate. This is a matter between me and Teacher Yan Bugui, and it has nothing to do with his son."

"A son shouldn't speak ill of his father, and there's nothing they can do about it. Besides, I have a pretty good relationship with both of them, so please don't hurt others unnecessarily."

Yan Bugui had already rolled his eyes and collapsed on the ground, unconscious. He hadn't fainted on his own; the art teacher had punched him unconscious.

Zhang Dabiao was a close friend, a dear relative, a brother, and the future of art in our country!

His hands represent art, a new technique completely different from the traditional Russian art style! An independent new technique!

You ruined his hands, you ruined art!

You, Yan Bugui, are a sinner against Chinese art!

The school leaders rushed to the broadcasting station and frantically knocked on the door, but when they saw the bloody handprints on the door, they believed Zhang Dabiao's words even more.

This has blown up to a whole new level!

------------

After Zhang Dabiao's hands were treated and bandaged at the hospital, he was carefully escorted home by the school leaders, especially the art teacher, who said he had to give Zhang Dabiao an explanation.

The school told Zhang Dabiao to rest at home for a few days and that they would notify him to return to school once the matter was resolved and a result was available.

The art teacher also instructed Zhang Dabiao that as soon as he regained feeling in his fingers, he must find someone to notify him.

Yes, Zhang Dabiao pretended that his fingers were numb and trembling irregularly, which broke the art teacher's heart.

[Hey bro, can you stay away from me? I'm seriously not into gay stuff!]

A long-haired, bespectacled, seemingly refined scoundrel was holding Zhang Dabiao's hand, which was wrapped up like a dumpling, and weeping bitterly...

She even lamented in a mournful tone—"The future of Chinese art is gone..."

Zhang Dabiao was so embarrassed.

That was a cult-like technique I used in a prep course for sketching! It was cult-like!

The kind of thing a teacher would beat up if they saw this!

It's opportunism!

It's definitely not the future!

When Zhang Dabiao returned to the courtyard house, he attracted a lot of attention. Second Aunt (formerly Third Aunt Yang Ruihua) was picking vegetables while gloating, and Yan Jiedi, who had a runny nose, was also by his side.

"Hey Da Biao, why are you back so early? Did you skip class? I'm telling you, you can't not study hard."

"Ouch, what happened to your hand? Did someone hit you? Did you get into trouble again?"

"Who are these people? How come they're all grown men with such long hair? They look neither male nor female. Do they think they're artists?"

The school leaders and art teacher were stunned – who is this woman?

Why are you speaking so rudely?

Zhang Dabiao curled his lip: "She's Teacher Yan's wife."

"Aunt Yang, this hand was hit by Teacher Yan. What do you suggest we do?"

"And they are the school's leaders."

Upon hearing this, the neighbors in the courtyard were stunned. Yan Bugui had beaten Zhang Dabiao and injured Zhang Dabiao's hands.

Why were they beaten so badly?

I've never heard of Yan Bugui knowing martial arts.

Qin Jingru immediately ran over with a frown: "Brother Da Biao, is your hand injury serious?"

Zhang Dabiao shook his head: "I'm numb now, and it's unclear whether I can recover."

They were going to go all out with the act, but Qin Jingru immediately burst into tears while holding his hand.

Girl...it's really alright!

Please stop holding my hand, okay?

How embarrassing!

Just as Aunt Er was about to defend Yan Bugui, the school security guards, who had come with him, escorted Yan Bugui into the courtyard: "We received a report that Yan Bugui stole a lot of teaching materials from the school. We need to search him now, please cooperate with our work."

Then, the Yan family's world collapsed.