Chapter 108: The Jasmine Pavilion Education Inspection Delegation

The gate of Fangcaodi had recently been rebuilt. It was a neoclassical three-arched gate made of square-cut limestone, neatly machined. This avoided the often-debated issue of whether it exceeded the prescribed standards in classical Chinese architecture. Starting from scratch was always much easier.

On the cinder road in front of the gate, Zhang Zhixiang, the new executive vice principal of Fangcaodi School, was already waiting. Originally, it was planned for Hu Qingbai to come and greet them to show the importance of the occasion, but the Executive Committee ultimately decided that Hu Qingbai, as an official at the People’s Commissioner level, would be demeaning himself by welcoming a delegation from the local county. Having the school’s vice principal was sufficient. As the only comprehensive school currently run by the Yuanlao Yuan, Fangcaodi had to be at least on the same level as Peking University and Tsinghua University.

The position of principal of Fangcaodi had always been a coveted one among the many “soy sauce” Elders. The Organization Department had resisted the pressure and insisted that the school’s administrator must have a background in education; otherwise, they would be passed over. This had even sparked a war of words about the merits and demerits of Chinese and Western education models. In the end, Zhang Zhixiang, with his background as a chemistry teacher, his experience as a vice principal, his ability to hunt, his A1 truck driver’s license, and his first-class chef’s certificate, was deemed an “all-around teacher of morality, intelligence, physical education, aesthetics, and labor” and thus obtained this position that the otaku Elders coveted.

Zhang Zhixiang scoffed at the otaku’s fantasies of uniforms and sadistic teachers. Being in education, being a teacher, was not a fun job. Teaching and educating people was a path of blood and tears, especially in primary and secondary basic education, which was practically a martyr’s path for teachers.

Zhang Zhixiang had entered this profession when teachers’ salaries were still very meager. He had a disdainful view of the phenomenon of large numbers of people scrambling to become teachers after their salaries were greatly increased later. In his view, this practice of attracting talent with high income was putting the cart before the horse. He had said more than once at Fangcaodi’s teacher meetings that teaching should be a poor but noble profession, that teachers should have the sublime aura of a martyr, in order to attract people who were truly dedicated to education and willing to devote themselves to it. Otherwise, what they would get would be just a bunch of mediocre people chasing profits. All the bizarre phenomena in the education world stemmed from this.

This high-minded talk had sparked debates among the Elder teachers at Fangcaodi more than once. Over time, the Elder teachers gave Principal Zhang a nickname: “The Martyr.”

Today, Principal Zhang was all smiles, wearing a starched and ironed fine cloth “teacher’s work uniform.” Although the Elders often wore work clothes made of coarse cloth, modeled after the Zhongshan suit or training uniforms, for the convenience of their work, Fangcaodi was, after all, a school, so the Elder teachers’ attire was a bit more refined. After Principal Zhang took office, he even specially asked the female Elders of the Women’s Welfare Society to design and tailor a special teacher’s work uniform to demonstrate the dignity of the teaching profession. At the same time, he stipulated that all teachers in the school, whether Elders or naturalized citizens, must wear this teacher’s work uniform.

Along with this came a mandatory daily sign-in work system and the quantification of workload. In the past, the Elder teachers were relatively loose. As long as they had no classes, their working hours were flexible. The number of class hours could also be adjusted according to their own state. After Principal Zhang took office, he immediately announced new regulations: all teachers, whether Elders or naturalized citizens, must sign in on time on working days. The workload was detailed weekly, with a hard quota for the number of class hours. No class hours could be missed without special reasons. In addition to class hours, there were also detailed assessment indicators for research workload and administrative workload.

These regulations were not a big deal for the naturalized citizen teachers. They had already been ruthlessly exploited to the maximum. Now it was just a matter of formalizing it, and the increase in workload was limited. On the contrary, it also increased their income. But the Elder teachers were all cursing. It was bad enough that they couldn’t push around female students in this new world, and now they had to deal with the nonsense of paper publication numbers and teaching reform projects. The terrifyingly large number of class hours alone was enough to make everyone suffer.

Zhang Zhixiang remained unmoved. With the support of Hu Qingbai, he continued to push his “New Deal” and said that he would gladly send off any Elder teacher who was unwilling to do it. He managed to implement this New Deal.

To the left and right of the principal were Fangcaodi’s four great guardians: Yuan Ziguang, head of the science research group and director of academic affairs; Xiao Zhaochuan, head of the liberal arts research group and director of discipline; Bai Yu, head of the physical education research group; and Dong Yizhi, director of general affairs.

These four guardians were the main Elder teachers at Fangcaodi at present. There was also a female teacher respectfully called “Principal Qian,” who was Lu Yang’s mother. However, she was mainly responsible for the education of Elder children under the age of eighteen and the compilation of teaching materials, so she was a reclusive type and did not participate in such large-scale activities.

A line of carriages arrived majestically and stopped in front of the Fangcaodi gate.

“Gentlemen, we have now arrived at the main entrance of the Fangcaodi Education Park. Please get off the carriage and watch your step,” Tang Tang, the deputy director of the Lin’gao County Office, got off the first carriage, wearing a portable amplifier headset, and said with a beaming smile, like a tour guide.

Following her call, more than a dozen Ming-style scholars got out of the carriage. The leader, holding a cane and supported by someone, was Liu Dalin himself.

No matter which world it was, Zhang Zhixiang had ample experience in dealing with tours. He immediately went up to them with “overflowing enthusiasm.”

“Ah, a pleasure to meet you, a pleasure.”

“I’ve long admired your name.”

…

The “Jasmine Pavilion Education Inspection Delegation”—as it was written on the notice from the General Office—and the Elder teachers exchanged a round of polite greetings, bowing to each other. Liu Dalin and Wang Ci sized up the Elders opposite them. Although the short-hairs had been entrenched in Lin’gao for nearly five years, the difference between the Elders and the naturalized citizens was still obvious to Liu Dalin and the others. No matter how high-ranking a naturalized citizen was, the difference in temperament with an Elder was still visible. Not only were their height and build different from ordinary people, but their gestures and movements were also different from ordinary people.

However, Liu Dalin and Wang Ci had never heard of these Elder teachers before them, including this headmaster of Fangcaodi. In ancient society, intellectuals not only used teaching as their most common means of livelihood, but they also often considered themselves “teachers who educate the people.” After all, Confucius was also most famous for teaching and educating people. Seeing these Australian counterparts, a group of people had a complicated mix of feelings in their hearts.

As for the delegation of Liu Dalin, Wang Ci, and others who had come to “inspect and study,” the Executive Committee had no special requirements, only to show the Yuanlao Yuan’s “education for all” and the advanced nature of “modern” education. They did not attach too much importance to it, so Zhang Zhixiang did not intend to accompany them himself. He was so busy that he couldn’t finish his work even if he didn’t sleep. So he asked the Director of General Affairs, Dong Yizhi, to handle the reception work.

Dong Yizhi was originally a “soy sauce” Elder, an incompetent engineering graduate. Before D-Day, he was a yes-man, and he still was after D-Day. Feeling that he really couldn’t find a suitable job, he simply applied to the education sector to be a teacher. Fortunately, he was usually low-key and didn’t say anything out of line like “push down” or “loli is supreme.” So although he was not a normal school graduate, he was still approved to be a basic teacher at Fangcaodi and concurrently serve as the Director of General Affairs.

Dong Yizhi watched as Principal Zhang perfunctorily greeted the delegation at the school gate. He looked at Liu Dalin, who was in high spirits and looked like a different person from before, and Wang Ci, who seemed a little timid, and thought to himself, What are these rotten Confucians here for? He was well aware of the current situation of the Jasmine Pavilion. Most likely, they felt that things couldn’t go on like this and wanted to learn from them.

Our scriptures, you can’t learn them, Dong Yizhi thought. If you really learn them, it won’t be the Jasmine Pavilion Academy anymore, it will be the Jasmine Pavilion School.

But he still said, “Ah, gentlemen, please come in, please come in.” He squeezed out a smile and gestured for them to enter the school gate.

Huang Bingkun and Li Fenba were also in the delegation. The last time Li Fenba told him that his family was also going to join the Tiandi Hui, he rushed back to the Huang family village overnight to ask his old father what was going on.

“Father, you are confused. If you join that damn Tiandi Hui, they will enter our house openly and everything will be controlled by the short-hairs. Will the tenants and long-term laborers still listen to our family then? Won’t our family be at their mercy? Besides, the short-hair bandits’ foundation is still shallow. If the court comes back one day, we will be traitors,” Huang Bingkun pleaded with his old father in the study.

“Bingkun!” Huang Shoutong roared heavily. “You still haven’t given up! The Huang family cannot be ruined by you. The court? Still the court! Can’t you see that this Great Ming is about to end? With all the elite troops and financial resources of the country, they can’t even retake Shenyang. The eastern barbarians have invaded several times, and the capital has been under martial law several times. And they’re going to cross the sea to retake Qiongzhou?!”

The argument ended with Huang Bingkun’s verbal submission but not his heartfelt agreement. Not only that, but Huang Shoutong also asked him to take this opportunity to visit Fangcaodi, inspect the school’s environment and conditions, and help his eldest brother’s child with the admission procedures.

Father is really determined to surrender to the short-hairs! Huang Bingkun thought of his third brother who had died tragically, and his heart ached. Although he knew that his father had no choice but to do so, the thought of the blood feud between his family and the short-hairs for killing his brother made the fire of hatred in his chest burn fiercely.

Seeing that the headmaster of Fangcaodi—they called him “Principal Zhang”—had only come to greet them perfunctorily and then left, leaving only a tall, dark, and insignificant “Director of General Affairs,” Huang Bingkun knew that the Australians did not take their delegation seriously at all. His family now also subscribed to a copy of the Lin’gao Times, and he knew that the biggest official in charge of schools among the short-hairs was called Hu Qingbai. This Principal Zhang was already unknown, and now they sent an even smaller official to receive them, clearly showing their contempt for them.

At this thought, a sense of humiliation welled up in his heart. He looked at Scholar Liu, who was all smiles, without a trace of displeasure. His self-control was very good.