What’s going on? Henry Walker saw the dejected faces of the homeroom teacher and the Youth League secretary of Class 2, and his heart skipped a beat, a vague sense of foreboding creeping in. Senior Class 2 was a disaster class: over four years, one student had been expelled, one had committed suicide by jumping off a building, and there had been two attempted suicides. As for love triangles, jealousy, and bloody fights, there were even more—this one class had more incidents than Henry Walker had seen in decades of teaching. After arranging for a few boys and girls from the lower grades to leave separately, he walked over, a bit puzzled, and greeted, “Is there something else, Director Harris?”

“Mm, to prevent this matter from escalating, the Party Committee has instructed the Student Affairs Office to participate in the aftermath... For several key classes, our office will cooperate with your department leaders to visit each one.” Director Harris—Chris truly lived up to his name, his stern and unsmiling face even darker than the bark of an old locust tree. His serious expression had lasted so long it seemed to have stretched his face. Director Walker felt a jolt in his heart, glanced at the homeroom teacher Reed, and saw Reed deliberately avoiding the department head’s gaze. The class she led had often dragged the department down, and she truly felt guilty toward the leadership.

Well, this can’t be good.

As expected, Director Harris began his usual lecture: “Our office has been keeping an eye on a few active troublemakers in each class. In your department’s Senior Class 2, those on the list need to be visited one by one. That one called Chad Bennett, always posting notices and making a scene in the girls’ dormitory, and Officer Lewis saw him stirring things up too... And that one who always writes articles to oppose us, the one who got our school into the provincial newspaper—yes, Victor Smith... That student is really something, even a forum moderator, and there’s a record of him in the Public Security Bureau’s information security department.”

Director Harris adjusted his old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses and held a small, worn notebook, its edges frayed in places, just as old as he was. It contained records of students with checkered pasts. He emphasized, “The main one is this student, Dan Brooks, who even organized a sit-in demonstration. A real celebrity—this is the first time I’ve heard of a student getting a teacher removed from their post... We can’t underestimate students these days. They don’t learn the good things, can’t master anything useful, but bring all the bad habits from society into the school.”

The homeroom teacher Reed and Henry Walker exchanged a glance. He was talking about something that happened a year ago. It started when a public course teacher tried to sell books to students—the author, of course, being the teacher himself. In universities, this kind of thing was an open secret: the teacher made money, the students got credits and avoided failing the course—a win-win business. But one student refused to play along and exposed the matter beyond the department, to the school, the education bureau, and all over the internet. The school had no choice but to deal with it, so they made a show of it, gave the teacher a symbolic warning, and transferred him from his original post. Thus, the first case of a student toppling a teacher occurred.

It seemed that the instigator was the real target of Chris HarrisDirector’s focus. He went on to list several more misdeeds of this student named Dan Brooks, whose notoriety clearly outweighed that of Chad Bennett and Victor Smith combined. Not only Director Harris, but even department head Henry Walker and Reed felt uneasy at the mention of this name.

Fortunately, Reed spoke up to defend her student: “Director Harris, didn’t our school already deal with this? And as for the issue with Teacher Quinn, it really does reflect some problems in our teaching staff.”

Reed, a gentle middle-aged female teacher, had always had a good reputation among students, but her defense was too weak and directed at the wrong target. Director Harris countered from another angle: “It’s true the teacher was at fault, but on the other hand, this shows these students have no basic respect for teachers. Teacher Reed, just count how many in your class have a record—aren’t there enough? You can’t always shield the students. Troublemakers like these must be dealt with strictly, to set an example. What’s next, a class boycott? Do they want to drag teachers out for public criticism!?”

He was clearly being unreasonable, blaming everything on these few students in Class 2 without any investigation. Department head Henry Walker pursed his lips. Director Harris’s stubborn and rigid personality was related to his experiences—he was almost certainly left with trauma from being criticized by students during a special period, and now he treated troublemaking students with even more hostility than class enemies. With students like these, even the department head and homeroom teacher couldn’t avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

Sure enough, Director Harris urged them bluntly: “Let’s go. There are just these three in your department’s senior class. We’ll investigate each one... Little Walker, you’re the class Youth League secretary, right? Which dorm are these people in? Since both your homeroom teacher and department head are here, let’s go together.”

At this, the homeroom teacher and Youth League secretary both frowned, as if sharing a special emotion, which was immediately confirmed by the department head’s words. He waved his hand helplessly and said, “No need to go to so much trouble—they’re all in the same dorm.”

Director Harris hadn’t expected them to all be in one place. He paused for a moment, then followed Director Walker toward the dormitory.