Who cares, let the noise come from all directions—I remain unmoved. Although these voices made Edward Brooks a bit irritable, he tried his best to focus, paying attention only to the track in front of him. After working up a sweat, he felt much more comfortable.

Just as he was about to go back for a shower, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching from afar. Looking up, he saw that it was the principal, David Clark, walking slowly toward the playground with his hands behind his back.

“Good morning, Principal Clark.” Ever since Edward Brooks came to the school, David Clark had shown him respect, and he had always been grateful for that, treating him with respect as well. Whenever there was some odd job at school or something at home, as long as David Clark gave the word, Edward Brooks would always be there.

“Teacher Brooks, it’s rare to see you up so early. Young people should go to bed early, get up early, and exercise more. That way, when you’re old, you won’t be plagued by illness. Look at me—I can’t even run anymore.” Seeing it was Edward Brooks, David Clark chuckled.

David Clark was already past forty, not tall, with thinning hair, a bit overweight, and a small belly. By today’s standards, he had the classic “official” look.

“I couldn’t sleep today. I used to exercise regularly at school, but after starting work, I got lazy.” Edward Brooks smiled sheepishly.

“Perseverance is easy to talk about, but hard to do. It’s already great that you’re able to keep it up now—keep exercising.” David Clark nodded, smiling. After speaking, he continued with his hands behind his back, heading toward the vegetable patch in the southeast corner of the playground. That was the school’s vegetable supply base, personally tended by David Clark. But now that autumn had arrived, only some eggplants and peppers were still “holding on.”

It was David Clark’s habit to visit the vegetable patch every morning. Seeing the vegetables he had planted himself gave him a sense of accomplishment. Besides, it counted as exercise, and as long as he kept at it, it was good for his health.

With the principal’s order to keep exercising, Edward Brooks had no choice but to run two more laps. If he were still in college, Edward Brooks wouldn’t have done this, but after coming to Shumuling Middle School, he learned to adapt and understand. Since the leader had spoken, he had to follow through no matter what. Just like when David Clark told him to keep exercising—if Edward Brooks had gone back for a shower right then, David Clark wouldn’t have said anything, but he would definitely have remembered Edward Brooks as someone who didn’t listen. Edward Brooks would never do something so self-defeating now. Running a couple more laps would just make him a bit more tired, but he wouldn’t lose anything. If he didn’t run, and the principal decided to “throw a small shoe” his way, would he wear it or not?

Don’t be fooled by the fact that Shumuling Middle School only had a little over thirty teachers—small as a sparrow is, it has all its vital organs. The school had a full Party committee structure. Edward Brooks had once seen with his own eyes another new teacher in his dorm, William Long, who had complained about the director of studies, John Stone, rearranging his classes. John Stone overheard, and not long after, William Long was assigned an extra class to teach. His salary didn’t increase, but his workload did—that was the price of not following orders. And from then on, William Long’s lesson plans and handouts were often suddenly checked by John Stone. If he found anything wrong, he would immediately unleash a torrent of scolding.

For Edward Brooks to get into the provincial normal university, he was definitely not lacking in intelligence. Survival of the fittest—he’d learned that in biology class. Thinking about it now, it really was a law of human evolution. If offending the director of studies had such consequences, how much worse would it be to offend the principal?

“Didn’t Edward Brooks come back last night? Why haven’t we seen him?”

As Edward Brooks was walking to the teaching building, he suddenly heard someone talking about him. He quickly looked around, but couldn’t find the source of the voice.

“Who cares if he came back or not? I have to get up and grade homework. Six classes today. That bastard John Stone—he’s got it in for me now. One day, I’ll make him pay!”

That was William Long’s voice—Edward Brooks recognized it immediately. William Long was sharp-tongued and never cared about others’ feelings. That’s why, not long after arriving at the school, he’d already offended more people than you could count on both hands. Most of the time, it was over trivial matters—sometimes he just used the wrong words without realizing it, and ended up offending people without even knowing.

Like that time in the teachers’ office, William Long had just left and realized he’d forgotten his lesson plan book. His desk was in the back, so he had to walk around to get it. He said to the teacher sitting across from him, “XXX, hand me my lesson plan book!”—completely condescending. Although that teacher eventually handed it over, he soon asked to switch desks and never wanted to sit across from William Long again.

“I’m telling you, Teacher Long, you really need to watch your mouth. Don’t just blurt out whatever comes to mind, or you’ll suffer for it later.”

This time, Edward Brooks heard clearly—it was Benjamin Vaughn’s voice. Like William Long, he was also a new graduate assigned here. He was the one who had asked Edward Brooks about the meaning of “good-for-nothing,” so Edward Brooks remembered his voice well.