Don't underestimate the poor and elderly; I was thrilled to refuse the class beauty's adva

"Teacher Fu, please don't say that. If you hadn't come, the principal wouldn't have even given you a 'written apology.' You've already—"

Zongwen hadn't finished his words of advice.

"That's not enough," Fu Kai interrupted him, his voice firm and resolute. "A self-criticism and an apology are far from enough for a student who called in a dozen thugs to ambush someone. But what can I do even if I disagree?"

Zhang Yifan walked past Zong Wen and stood in front of Fu Kai.

"Teacher Fu, when we caught up with you at the alley entrance, you were running barefoot, and your slippers were all torn."

His tone was calm, yet carried an irrefutable seriousness.

"How could a teacher who ran barefoot for hundreds of meters to save students be useless? The useless ones are those who sit in their offices using the excuse of prioritizing the overall situation to smooth things over, not you."

Fu Kai looked up at him, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He felt he should be able to say a complete sentence, but for some reason, his lips moved several times, but he ultimately couldn't say anything.

He wanted to say, "You don't understand," not understanding how long a middle-aged teacher could hold out in the face of a principal's power, not understanding how much courage he had accumulated over half a lifetime had taken away from saying "I disagree."

But Zhang Yifan's gaze was so calm, resolute, and composed that he swallowed all his words.

After a long silence, he took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was completely different:

"Are you worried about affecting my career? Don't worry, I, Fu Kai, have been teaching for over twenty years. I can tolerate anything, except for one thing: my students cannot be bullied for nothing! I'll remember what happened today."

"Don't worry about Principal Meng giving me a hard time. He can do his thing, I'll do mine. I don't believe he can control everything when it comes to promotions next year!"

"Starting tomorrow, I'll drive you home every evening after self-study. That Peng Kaifei won't let this go. I don't believe he can do anything to you again under the homeroom teacher's nose."

Zhang Yifan was taken aback for a moment, then quickly waved his hand: "Teacher Fu, no need, I can do it myself—"

"I'm not discussing this with you!" Fu Kai picked up the car keys from his desk and stuffed them into his pocket. "It's settled then."

Then he looked the two students standing in front of him up and down, his gaze finally landing on Zhang Yifan's face, and his expression suddenly became somewhat complicated.

He recalled the groaning thugs in the alley, and Zhang Yifan's calm expression when he said, "I was acting in self-defense," and couldn't help but ask, "By the way, when did you learn kung fu? How did you take down more than a dozen people wielding batons?"

Zhang Yifan and Zong Wen exchanged a glance.

Zongwen immediately looked away, pretending to admire the paint patterns on the metal filing cabinet.

"Teacher Fu," Zhang Yifan said sincerely, "your slippers are torn. If you're planning to drive me home barefoot, I think you should probably be a little more careful about that."

Fu Kai looked down at his bare foot, then at the cracked slipper behind the door.

"...You two go out first, I need to take care of the slippers."

Zong Wen placed the lesson plan he was carrying on the desk and walked out of the office one after the other with Zhang Yifan.

Half of the lights in the corridor were off, except for the one at the far end, which cast long shadows behind the two people.

Zong Wen remained silent the whole way, and only spoke after a while: "Yifan, I've never seen Teacher Fu act like that before. It made me feel really uncomfortable."

Zhang Yifan slowed his pace and remained silent.

Zongwen continued, "But you're right, he ran that far barefoot."

He gave a short laugh.

"Honestly, when I saw that group of people lying on the ground at the alley entrance, I almost threw away my lesson plan on the spot. More than a dozen people, how did you manage that? I always thought you were just someone to be trifled with, but I never imagined you were Ip Man."

Zhang Yifan did not answer.

His gaze passed through the window at the end of the corridor and landed on the dim yellow night outside the school, bathed in the glow of streetlights.

He said "no need" and maintained a calm expression that reassured Fu Kai and Zong Wen, but that didn't mean he didn't hold grudges.

For some people, taking a step back won't lead to a brighter future; it will only embolden them to take advantage of you.

Peng Kaifei, Principal Meng.

No one on this list can escape.

The system had mentioned that Peng's family went bankrupt after graduating from high school, and he remembered this timeline.

He doesn't mind lending a hand to make the process happen sooner and faster.

As for the specifics of how to proceed, there's no rush. I have the system at hand, 800,000 yuan in my bank account, and Jeet Kune Do expertise to rely on.

He has plenty of time and capital to slowly make his plans, but Peng Kaifei's family doesn't have much time left.

Fu Kai's car was a silver Jetta that he had driven for almost ten years. The passenger seat was covered with a shiny, cool mat, and there was an oscillating fan clipped to the air conditioning vent in the back seat.

Zong Wen lived nearby, so Fu Kai dropped him off at the alley entrance.

When Zongwen got off the bus, he glanced back at Zhang Yifan, hesitated, and finally just said "See you tomorrow" before running into the alley with his backpack.

The car continued driving forward, turned two corners, and stopped in front of a cluster of old residential buildings.

When Zhang Yifan opened the car door, Fu Kai suddenly called out to him.

"Zhang Yifan".

"Um?"

"You did a great job today, both in the alley and in the office."

Fu Kai gripped the steering wheel, not turning to look at him, his gaze fixed on the two beams of light emanating from the headlights.

"Starting tomorrow, I'll wait for you at the school gate after evening self-study."

"Teacher Fu, really, you don't need to—"

"I've already said, I'm not discussing this with you."

Fu Kai finally turned his head. The dim yellow light from the car's roof lamp shone on his face, casting a warm tint on the edges of his glasses.

"Hurry back, your parents must be getting impatient."

Zhang Yifan closed the car door, watched the taillights of the silver Jetta disappear around the corner, then turned and went upstairs.

I pushed open the front door, and the light in the entryway was still on.

Warm yellow light shone on the chipped shoe cabinet. The living room was quiet except for the television, which was still on, showing a late-night weather forecast at a very low volume, almost inaudible.

The mother, Liu Guilan, was slumped on the sofa with a thin blanket draped over her, her head nodding off.

On the coffee table sat a glass of cooled milk, and next to it, in a fruit bowl, were several slices of apple, the surface of which had oxidized and turned slightly yellow, indicating that it had been waiting for quite some time.

Father Zhang Rongshan sat at the dining table with an outdated evening newspaper spread out in front of him and an unlit cigarette in his hand, the filter worn smooth from repeated rubbing.

Hearing the sound of the door lock turning, Liu Guilan woke up immediately.