Chapter Fifty-Eight: Please Give Teacher Qin Back to Us!

Teacher Zhu’s expulsion by the students put tremendous pressure on Director Guo. He knew that if he himself couldn’t resolve the matter, he would have no choice but to find a way to bring Qin Luo back, regardless of any further calls pleading on Qin’s behalf. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to account to the school. He could dismiss Qin Luo for lacking a teaching certificate, but Li Yonggang could just as easily cite incompetence and reassign Guo’s own duties.

Li Yonggang had been busy with Qin Luo’s situation these past days—rumor had it he even visited the old principal to plead for Qin. But the old principal, still bitter over his grandson’s grievance, turned him away with a dark face. The two parted on bad terms.

Director Guo hadn’t taught classes in a long time, only occasionally giving a political thought lecture to the whole grade. This time, he decided to personally teach “Chinese Medical Diagnostics.” He wanted to show the students his authority, to crush their rebellious spirit and arrogance. If their momentum continued unchecked, the situation would only become harder to manage.

When Director Guo entered Class 722’s classroom, he was surprised to find it packed, nearly a hundred students present—far more than the attendance list in his hand. His plan to call roll and assert dominance was foiled. He couldn’t recognize every student’s face, and even if someone was absent, others would surely answer for them.

“How odd, this doesn’t match what Teacher Zhu described. He claimed the students were agitated and refused to attend class. Yet now they seem perfectly calm,” Director Guo mused, puzzled as he stepped onto the podium.

Could it be they already knew he was coming to teach? The thought filled him with deep satisfaction.

“Students, I am Renhuai Guo,” he introduced himself, beaming from the podium.

“The Director of our department. We know you,” Wang Jiujie replied, pulling out her earbuds and curling her lip.

She hadn’t expected Director Guo to come in person. The struggle ahead would only grow tougher. But for Qin Luo’s sake, they had to stand their ground, no matter if the school sent a director or even the principal.

Director Guo glanced at the girl in the front row, momentarily struck by her beauty. With a genial smile, he said, “The young lady got it wrong. Since I’m here in this classroom, it means I’m your teacher. My duty is to ensure you learn something truly useful. As for the title of ‘Director’, you may well forget it. If you’d like, call me Teacher Guo. Or if you prefer, just call me Old Guo—I know you do so behind my back.”

Director Guo had a knack for student relations. With a few words, he closed the gap between himself and his pupils, even sharing the joke about being called ‘Old Guo’ to foster closeness.

Unfortunately, this time he was facing the eccentrics of Class 722.

“Old Guo, bring back Teacher Qin. We only want his class,” Wang Jiujie said bluntly.

He’d asked to be called ‘Old Guo’, so she obliged.

Director Guo’s face stiffened, barely restraining his temper. Aside from a handful of senior leaders or fellow department heads, who else dared call him ‘Old Guo’ to his face? Worse still, the one doing so was a student of the College of Traditional Chinese Medicine—his own student.

Humility—he had merely been modest.

Did these students lack any intelligence? Couldn’t they even grasp his humility?

Director Guo felt a strong urge to slam the table and leave. Now he understood why Teacher Zhu had come to him with a dark face to complain.

At this moment, he wished he could find a comforting embrace with a voluptuous figure and have a good cry.

His face cycled through shades of black, purple, red, and finally returned to normal.

“Heh, I think you students aren’t aware of the situation. Teacher Qin Luo doesn’t have a teaching certificate and hasn’t received formal medical education. He was named and criticized by the higher-ups, and I myself received a verbal warning. Alas, young Qin is a good teacher—I’m fond of him too. Letting him go pains me. But he’s still young, with great potential ahead. Before he left, I spoke with him at length, encouraging him to pursue further studies and obtain a teaching certificate. Our college will always welcome him back. Teacher Qin himself agreed, saying he would work hard.”

“So before Teacher Qin returns, your task is to study diligently. Don’t let your Teacher Qin down.”

“Old Guo, we think Teacher Qin teaches well. If he goes to further studies, who can teach him?” came another student’s voice.

“That’s right. If Teacher Qin is better than his own teachers, wouldn’t that be embarrassing for them?”

“Old Guo, bring back our Teacher Qin. We’ll all treat you to a night out,” someone joked.

Bang!

Director Guo slammed the chalkboard eraser onto the podium, his face dark as he barked, “Enough! Have you any sense of propriety as students? Are you even students? Was it easy for your families to send you here? Do I need to call your parents? Or must I expel you all?”

When the department head erupted, he commanded respect. The students exchanged uneasy glances; no one dared challenge him now.

“Director Guo, we only want a good teacher. Is it unreasonable to request that? I don’t think anyone else is better than Teacher Qin,” Wang Jiujie retorted, refusing to back down even as he was angry.

“Until we find a suitable teacher for ‘Chinese Medical Diagnostics’, I’ll be teaching your class. I’ll do my utmost, and I hope you have confidence in me.”

Wang Jiujie’s eyes gleamed. She said, “‘Chinese Medical Diagnostics’ is highly practical. How about this: we’ll give you three questions. If you answer them all, we’ll stop asking for Teacher Qin’s return. Deal? We don’t want to be misled by an unqualified teacher.”

“It must be from the textbook,” Director Guo insisted.

“Of course,” Wang Jiujie nodded.

“Alright, ask away,” Director Guo replied. Though he hadn’t taught in years, with his experience and knowledge, he doubted the students could stump him.

Would a skilled doctor be confounded by patient questions? Highly unlikely.

“Director Guo, please recite the ‘Song of Decoctions’,” Wang Jiujie said.

“The ‘Song of Decoctions’?” Director Guo was taken aback. Who would bother memorizing such a thing? He had read it several times in the past, but had long forgotten.

“What’s wrong? Can’t you recite it?”

“Honestly, I never paid much attention to such basics. I focus more on practical skills; rote memorization of theory isn’t necessary. Understanding suffices,” Director Guo replied awkwardly, his facial muscles twitching.

Wang Jiujie turned and snapped her fingers. “Ready. Go.”

The whole class recited in unison, their voices clear and resonant, the obscure lines of the ‘Song of Decoctions’ flowing fluently off their tongues.

Even the auditors, inspired by Qin Luo’s parting request to memorize this song, had committed it to heart.

When the recitation ended, the classroom fell silent.

They sat quietly, solemn and dignified.

“Stand up,” Wang Jiujie commanded.

Whoosh!

All the students stood, backs straight, eyes fixed on Renhuai Guo on the podium.

Renhuai Guo instinctively stepped back. What were they planning?

“Bow.”

Swish!

Every student bowed ninety degrees, their gesture directed at the fearful-faced Renhuai Guo.

Wang Jiujie raised her head and spoke gravely, “Director Guo, you cannot comprehend what Teacher Qin means to us. He’s a great elder brother, a trustworthy friend, a genius teacher. We believe that if Teacher Qin is willing to teach us, we can become the finest practitioners of traditional medicine.”

“Director Guo, please give Teacher Qin back to us,” Wang Jiujie said.

“Please give Teacher Qin back to us,” echoed the entire class.

Renhuai Guo gazed at the earnest, resolute faces of these young students, sighed softly, and stepped silently down from the podium.

He realized that the heights he’d once scaled were now out of reach for others.

Qin Luo was unaware of the events unfolding at school. He was playing chess with Lin Qingyuan. Back at the Qin household, he often played a few rounds with his grandfather, and thus had developed considerable skill.

Today, Lin Qingyuan was on holiday and itching for a game, so the old and the young were locked in battle.

Qin Luo was about to move his knight to capture Lin’s pawn when his phone, lying on the table, chimed with a message.

It was from an unfamiliar number: “Hehe, guess who I am?”

From the playful ‘hehe’, Qin Luo knew the sender was a woman.

“Neighbor Wang’s wife?” Qin Luo replied. He was most vexed by women’s little games.

“Annoying. It’s Sixuan,” the phone chimed again.

“Oh. Is something the matter?” Qin Luo asked.

“Can’t I contact you without a reason? I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality in Beijing. If you ever have time, come visit Taiwan. Alright, won’t bother you anymore. Carry on.”

“Hurry up,” Lin Qingyuan urged. Except for his granddaughter, he disliked seeing Qin Luo interact with any woman.

“Alright,” Qin Luo replied, moving his knight to capture a pawn, only to lose one himself.

He had barely played two more moves when his phone rang again. This time it was a call, the screen showing the name Li Qingcheng.

“Brother Qin, hurry over! We’ve got a big client here, and they specifically asked to see you,” Li Qingcheng called out excitedly.