“What? Xia Hua refused…?”
How dare she refuse?
At this point, refusal would only make things spiral even further out of control, into chaos and disgrace.
Everyone in the class thought the same thing.
If it had been them, they would’ve already given in.
Because students… could never win against teachers.
Just like that time during the teacher satisfaction survey.
The entire class had voted “unsatisfied,” thinking the school leadership would punish the teacher.
Instead, the students were the ones sold out behind closed doors.
Teachers were civil servants— tenured, protected by the system.
Students were just passing through for three years.
But teachers? They were colleagues for decades.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Xia Hua repeated calmly.
“I only asked you to sweep the floor. Why can’t you follow the class’s arrangements? Everyone else can do it—why not you? You think you’re special?” Zhou Qing had started in on her again, every word dripping with self-righteousness.
“Because your punishment isn’t fair,” Xia Hua said, shaking her head with disappointment. “Forget the fact that I was genuinely unwell that day. Let’s just talk facts: plenty of students in our class skip P.E.”
“And you usually turn a blind eye to them.”
“So why am I the only one being punished—just because I didn’t ask you for leave?”
“That makes me your example?”
“There are rules. No rules, no order. If I don’t punish you, then everyone else will follow your example— what then?” Zhou Qing gave her a sideways glance.
He was the teacher, after all.
Everything he said had to be “right.”
But Xia Hua had already laid it bare: “I already told you— many students skip class. And yet, I’m the only one you choose to punish. Is your bias just reserved for me?”
“Because you did do something wrong,” Zhou Qing replied, sticking to his line.
“Fine,” Xia Hua took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, “Let’s not talk about the P.E. class anymore. Let’s talk about tardiness, homework, and test scores.”
“Yes, I’ve been late before. I’ve missed homework. I’ve even flunked tests.”
“But haven’t we all?”
“So why is it always me you’re coming down on?”
“A semester is about four months— roughly 120 days. It’s already May, so that’s 90 days passed. In those 90 days, I’ve been punished by you to clean the sanitation zone for 37 days, and sweep the classroom for 12.”
“And I had to do it alone.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“Sweeping a whole sanitation zone by myself often takes the entire morning reading session and even then, it’s not always clean enough. And because of that, when the school inspection teams caught it, you’d take that excuse to yell at me again and add more punishment days. I honestly don’t even know what to say anymore.”
“Did I kill your mom or something?”
“Why are you so dead set on targeting me?”
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
The more wronged she felt.
There was no stepping back from this.
What did Zhou Qing’s behavior resemble?
He was trying to assert his authority as a homeroom teacher but in doing so, he’d planted the seeds of bullying in a class that had never known it before.
When the homeroom teacher becomes the bully… what does that say?
“I’m punishing you for your own good,” Zhou Qing said with sickening sanctimony.
“Bullshit.” Xia Hua cursed again, raising her voice. “Half the semester, I’ve spent my entire morning reading period sweeping the floor. And you tell me it’s for my own good?”
“So, Xia Hua, are you going to admit you were wrong or not?” Zhou Qing was losing patience.
“And if I admit it? What then? And what if I don’t?” Xia Hua asked curiously.
“If you won’t admit your mistake…” Zhou Qing swept his eyes over the students below the podium, his voice calm and chilling: “Then I’m sorry. Your behavior has been unacceptable. I can’t teach you. Your classmates all hate you. This place simply isn’t big enough for a ‘living Buddha’ like you. You should find another school.”
“Of course, if you do admit your mistake…” Zhou Qing grinned slyly.
“As it happens, the school’s been tightening appearance standards lately. So let’s do this— since you’re the center of attention, why don’t you set an example? Go get your hair cut into a school-approved, ear-length bob. No objections, right? Or maybe we’ll vote on it to be fair?”
“Come on, everyone, get moving.”
“Someone’s got to do it.”
“So why not vote for who you think is the most suitable?”
“……”
For some reason, Xia Hua could feel her blood pressure rising.
The memory came flooding back.
The only difference was—back then, she was a boy, and the school rule was to get a buzz cut.
So he— his past self — had stupidly gone and done it.
Only for the school to revoke the rule days later due to student backlash.
And he alone had to walk around with that ridiculous buzz cut like a clown, the butt of everyone’s jokes for weeks.
And now, unsurprisingly, Xia Hua was once again the top “candidate” by a landslide.
“Well? Xia Hua? Anything else you’d like to say?” Homeroom teacher Zhou Qing pressed.
“No.” Xia Hua rubbed her temples, her head throbbing as she turned to leave. “I think there’s no point trying to reconcile anymore. Let’s just stick to the original plan.”
“If it’s your class—”
“Then I’ll never set foot in that classroom again.”
“……”
Zhou Qing, as always, left no room for compromise.
So what was there left to say?
Let it all crash and burn.
Especially during the last two periods— geography class.
When Xia Hua returned to the classroom, she found her desk and chair had been moved.
All the way to the back. Right beside the trash can.
What more was there to say?
When school ended at noon, Xia Hua headed straight home and turned on her computer.
“Crash and burn, huh? Let’s do it, then!”
“Today, it’s either you or me. I’m so damn pissed off…”
She used to run an online store and knew a thing or two about editing videos.
Now, she switched to editing audio.
She trimmed today’s recorded confrontation into a clearer, more listenable version.
She could’ve shown off her skill— adding tonal pacing, rhythm, punch.
But this wasn’t some show.
This was her pain— her shame— something she didn’t even want to revisit, let alone dress up for others.
That would’ve been like rubbing salt into her own wound.
So she kept it simple—just made it easy to follow.
There were two versions of the audio file.
“It’s honestly humiliating,” she muttered, “If I had a choice, I’d never want to expose something that drags my pride into the dirt like this.”
“It’s just… such a dignity-stripping thing to do.”
She sighed—and clicked “Send.”
The raw, unedited version— sent to the local education bureau. With a report attached.
The second version—the edited one—was for somewhere else.
Every afternoon after school, there were club activities.
She just hoped the broadcast could play long enough, before someone in the control room realized what was happening and cut her audio feed.
“Anyway, there’s more than one way to fight.”
“The school’s BBS, the student forums… There are plenty of places.”
Xia Hua had simply chosen the most impactful, direct, and shocking method of expression.