What's wrong with me, a school principal, listening to students' suggestions?

Lin Yucai left the teaching building and headed straight for the library construction site.

The mid-August sun was scorching, the construction site was filled with the roar of machinery, and the workers were busy on the scaffolding with their shirts off.

The glass curtain wall of the three-story building is mostly installed, and sunlight shines on it, refracting into a bright patch of light.

"Principal Lin, the internal partition walls can be completely sealed today, and painting and flooring will begin tomorrow."

Xu Jianfeng emerged from inside, wearing a safety helmet, his face covered in sweat.

"How's the progress? Are we making it on time?"

"We can make it." Xu Jianfeng wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "As long as the next batch of custom-made bookshelves arrives on time, we can definitely deliver before September 1st."

"I confirmed with the manufacturer yesterday that the bookshelf will be shipped on the 20th and arrive on the 23rd."

"Then it's settled."

Lin Yucai walked around the construction site and then went next door to check on the progress of the research building.

The research building started construction later than the library. The exterior has just been completed, and the interior is still being wired and piped.

However, the construction of this building was scheduled until October, so there's no rush.

After confirming that there were no problems on either side, Lin Yucai turned back.

As he passed the teaching building, he subconsciously glanced in the direction of Class 3, Grade 11.

There was a different person in the classroom.

A middle-aged man stood on the podium. He was not tall and wore a faded polo shirt. His hair was gray, but he was full of energy.

Zhao Jianhua.

Lin Yucai originally planned to go straight back to his office, but for some reason he stopped walking.

He went outside the back door, leaned against the wall, and listened for a couple of minutes.

"So now you know the true nature of this war, right?"

Zhao Jianhua's voice wasn't loud, but the classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"It's not a difference in weapons, it's not a difference in the military, it's a difference in systems."

"How can a system that exploits its own people to the point of death possibly defeat a system that allows businessmen to make money freely and use the profits to build warships?"

Snapped!

"Teacher, your lesson was so engaging!" Zhang Yang slammed his hand on the table.

"Teacher Zhao, you are a million times better than our previous history teacher. All he knew was to make us memorize the years."

The other students nodded in agreement, and the skinny monkey's eyes lit up.

"Of course you need to memorize the years, but you have to understand why first." Zhao Jianhua smiled. "Once you understand the cause and effect, you'll naturally remember the years."

"So, teacher, what happened next?" Zhao Yang pressed. "What happened to that Thirteen Factories thing?"

"Later..." Zhao Jianhua glanced at his watch, "It's time to talk about it another day."

"No!"

"Teacher, could you talk for another five minutes?"

"Just five minutes!"

The classroom erupted in chaos, with seven or eight students shouting in unison for him to continue.

Zhao Jianhua was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.

He had been teaching for fifteen years and had never been asked to stay by his students like this before.

Ma Desheng sat in the last row, his notebook filled with writing.

He looked at Zhao Jianhua on the stage, then at the students below who were always being squeezed out of class like toothpaste, and only one thought came to his mind.

This person must stay.

"Teacher Zhao, thank you for your hard work." Ma Desheng stood up and walked to the side of the podium.

Zhao Jianhua nodded and packed his things to leave.

"Teacher Zhao, don't rush back yet."

Ma Desheng stopped him, his expression revealing his true feelings.

"What do you mean?"

"Come with me, we'll go directly to Principal Lin to sign the contract!"

Ma Desheng patted him on the shoulder, his tone so firm that it left no room for negotiation.

"So...it's settled?"

Zhao Jianhua was stunned for a few seconds before he realized what was happening.

"Absolutely!" Ma Desheng laughed and nudged him. "With your teaching quality, you absolutely have to apply!"

The students behind him cheered.

Zhang Yang shouted at Zhao Jianhua's retreating figure, "Teacher Zhao! You'll have to tell more stories like this next semester!"

Zhao Jianhua turned around and waved to him, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.

As soon as Ma Desheng stepped out of the classroom, he saw a figure at the back door.

"Principal Lin, this history teacher is such a great talker, the students don't want him to leave."

"We have to take this!"

"Sign it! Sign the contract now!"

……

Meanwhile, on the eastern ring road of the city.

A black official car drove towards the No. 13 Middle School.

Two people were sitting in the back row, one elderly and one middle-aged.

The old man was about seventy years old, with completely white hair, and was wearing a simple polo shirt.

He was thin, with his hands on his knees, looking out at the street scene through the car window.

Liu Jianguo sat next to him, dressed in a suit and tie, but he looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Teacher Bi, let me tell you the truth."

Liu Jianguo turned to the side, lowered his voice, and put on a concerned smile.

"You might be disappointed if you go to No. 13 Middle School."

"Oh?" The old man didn't turn his head, his tone indifferent.

"Their principal, so young, is always doing all sorts of fancy things."

Liu Jianguo tapped his knee, making a gesture as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

"A five-star cafeteria and an e-sports arena, they put on a good show, but in the end... the quality of teaching is what matters."

"I suspect that this year's college entrance examination results are inflated."

The old man finally turned his head and glanced at him.

His gaze was so calm, so serene, that it sent a chill down Liu Jianguo's spine.

"I heard that the undergraduate admission rate of No. 13 Middle School this year is 91%, and the first-tier university admission rate is 60%."

"Is this what you call superficial work?"

Liu Jianguo's lips twitched, and he quickly tried to cover it up: "Professor Bi, the data looks good, but the operations involved..."

"Little Liu." The old man raised his hand and waved gently.

With just this one movement, Liu Jianguo immediately shut his mouth.

"Our generation ate bran and wild vegetables, and cornbread. In winter, we couldn't even afford a pair of cotton shoes."

The old man looked out the window again, speaking slowly and softly.

Do you know why we suffered so much?

Liu Jianguo did not respond.

"It's all so that the next generation of children can have enough to eat, go to school, and live a good life."

The old man's voice carried a soft laugh.

"These kids nowadays not only have enough to eat, they eat well, and they study well... What does that say?"

"This proves that my generation, my father's generation, didn't work in vain."

Liu Jianguo opened his mouth, wanting to say something to salvage the situation, but the old man's next words sent a chill down his spine.

"Xiao Liu, do you think Old Liu can't find Principal Lin's contact information?"

The old man's gaze remained fixed on the window, and his voice was soft, but Liu Jianguo had no choice but to strain his ears to listen.

"Why do you think Mr. Liu asked you to personally escort me to No. 13 Middle School?"

(The villain is about to leave, and Teacher Bi is about to make his appearance!)