Chapter Three: The Prank

At the beginning of the semester, Zhang Liang was caught red-handed reading a risqué novel in Huang Guolun’s music class. Normally, Huang Guolun wasn’t one to meddle in students’ trivial affairs. But that morning, his daughter Huang Tao, still unwilling to return to school after the holidays, had thrown a tantrum and deceived him out of two ice creams, only to refuse kindergarten altogether. That left Huang Guolun fuming. After coaxing and scolding Huang Tao all the way to kindergarten, he spent the rest of the morning in a foul mood.

Zhang Liang happened to stumble right into Huang Guolun’s wrath, chatting and reading his novel during class. Huang Guolun’s temper flared, and he promptly put an end to Zhang Liang’s antics. After the lesson, Huang Guolun intended to hand over the confiscated book to Zhang Liang’s homeroom teacher, leaving Zhang Liang to face the consequences.

Zhang Liang knew all too well what would happen if his homeroom teacher got hold of that book—it would mean parental summons or even disciplinary action. Desperate, he clung to Huang Guolun after class, tearfully admitting his mistake and begging for mercy, nearly dropping to his knees, pleading Huang Guolun not to hand the book over.

Huang Guolun had a soft spot for crying students. Watching Zhang Liang nearly break down, even if part of it was an act, his heart softened. After a stern lecture, Huang Guolun relented, deciding not to report the incident to Zhang Liang’s homeroom teacher.

The matter should have ended there. But fate had other plans, and soon, a twist caught everyone off guard.

The novel was certainly confiscated and never returned to Zhang Liang. That afternoon, finding the office empty, Huang Guolun, bored, idly flipped through the book. To his surprise, it was rather entertaining—witty, humorous, purely written in Beijing dialect. He became engrossed, losing himself in its pages, so much so that he didn’t notice the grade leader and vice principal entering the office.

It wasn’t until they stood by his desk, quietly observing him, that he realized his predicament. At that time, the Experimental Secondary School was enforcing a campaign to clean up the teaching environment, strictly prohibiting teachers from attending to personal matters during work hours.

Caught reading a risqué book during work, Huang Guolun had committed a grave offense, humiliating the grade group. The grade leader, in front of the vice principal, berated Huang Guolun mercilessly, making him the negative example, forcing him to deliver a heartfelt written self-criticism at the teachers’ assembly.

The joke spread like wildfire. All the teachers soon knew Huang Guolun had been caught reading the book during work hours. Before long, the students caught wind as well. The music teacher’s fondness for risqué novels became a running joke at Experimental Secondary School. Huang Guolun’s reputation was shattered.

Zhang Liang, the instigator, shamelessly begged Huang Guolun not to expose him, offering to treat him to lavish meals for an entire semester if only he’d keep it from the homeroom teacher. Huang Guolun wasn’t one to shirk responsibility; the main fault was his own, and Zhang Liang couldn’t be entirely blamed. Yet, had the boy not brought the book to school, none of this would have happened. After much deliberation, Huang Guolun decided Zhang Liang would sing world-famous songs in his music class each week as punishment.

Zhang Liang knew Huang Guolun intended to embarrass him, but to keep the peace, he had to swallow his pride and honor the agreement, belting out his off-key renditions of world classics every week. Over the past month, he’d butchered “O Sole Mio,” “La Bohème,” “Moscow Nights,” and “Little Cabbage,” among other Chinese and Western classics, making the entire Class Five of Grade Eleven laugh themselves into abs.

With the School Anniversary Cup performance approaching, Zhang Liang was desperate to stop singing those humiliating songs in music class. His confidence was nearly depleted.

On the morning of another music class, Zhang Liang waited in the corridor outside the teachers’ office, intercepting Huang Guolun as he arrived, greeting him with a mischievous smile and pulling him aside, “Mr. Huang, could we have a word?”

“What’s up? Are you scheming something again?” Huang Guolun followed Zhang Liang, who led him to an empty window.

At one meter seventy-eight, Huang Guolun wasn’t short, but beside Zhang Liang, he seemed small. Zhang Liang, a basketball athlete, stood an imposing one meter ninety-five, his frame far more robust.

“Hehe, Mr. Huang, with the school anniversary performance coming up, could you let me skip the world-famous songs in your class? My throat’s nearly ruined from singing them. I want to rest it and focus on preparing for the performance.”

“Your voice will only get stronger the more you sing. Don’t worry about ruining it. The more you practice now, the better you’ll be for the performance. Trust me.”

“But… uh… I’m starting to have nightmares about those songs.”

“Dreams are always the opposite. Don’t worry.”

Zhang Liang mentally cursed, but persisted in trying to persuade Huang Guolun.

Huang Guolun cut him off, “Enough. Don’t argue with me. We agreed you’d sing for a semester, and you will. Not a day or lesson less. Be a man and keep your word instead of whining. The bell’s about to ring; get to class. I’ll come check during the fourth period.”

With that, Huang Guolun dismissed Zhang Liang, who gritted his teeth and resolved to challenge him. In his mind, he thought, “You were caught reading that book by the leaders and took it out on me. How is that fair? If you’re going to be heartless, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”

Huang Guolun paid Zhang Liang’s matter no mind, preparing lessons as usual and teaching music class after music class with a relaxed air.

Finally, the last period of the morning was Grade Eleven Class Five’s music lesson. The bell rang. Huang Guolun, carrying his lesson plan, entered the classroom, immediately glancing at Zhang Liang in the back row.

Their eyes met; Zhang Liang exaggeratedly winked, hoping to signal Huang Guolun not to go after him.

Huang Guolun ignored it. He sat down and called Zhang Liang’s name, “Zhang Liang, how’s your homework from last week coming along? ‘Defend the Yellow River’ isn’t hard, right? Don’t be shy—come up to the podium and sing it for your classmates.”

“Ugh—!”

At Huang Guolun’s command, the students quickly jeered at Zhang Liang, their strange laughter filling the air. Everyone looked at him, relishing his misery.

Like swallowing a bitter pill, Zhang Liang pulled a long face, slowly getting up and muttered, “Sir… my stomach hurts.”

His best friend Liu Zhongjie chimed in, “Liang, you sure can act. You were bouncing around during break, and now you claim your stomach hurts?”

“Get lost!” Zhang Liang shot Liu Zhongjie a glare.

Guan Qiangguo egged him on, “Just sing already! Haha, defend the Yellow River, defend North China, defend all of China!”

“Boo—!” The classmates burst out in another round of jeers.

Huang Guolun smiled, “Zhang Liang, everyone’s waiting to hear you sing. Don’t dawdle.”

“Mr. Huang, my stomach really hurts. I drank a bottle of expired yogurt this morning, and I’ve been in pain all day. I urgently need to go to the bathroom.”

“Ooh—!” The students booed him again.

“Stop it! I really have to go! I can’t hold it any longer! Mr. Huang, let me use the restroom first; I’ll sing when I get back!”

Seeing Zhang Liang’s face nearly turning purple, as if he truly was in distress, Huang Guolun relented, “Lazy donkeys always need to pee before work—that’s you. Go on, but I warn you: if you’re gone for half an hour, I’ll mark you absent.”

“Won’t happen! I’ll be back in a flash!”

“In a flash… hahahaha.”

Zhang Liang’s sound effect sent the class into fits of laughter. Little did they know, disaster was quietly approaching.

With permission granted, Zhang Liang clutched his stomach and dashed toward the classroom door. Nearing the exit, he suddenly began walking in tiny steps, legs tightly pressed together, as if disaster was imminent.

Huang Guolun and the students, seeing his odd behavior, were dumbfounded.

They couldn’t believe he really had a stomach issue—and by the look of it, he might have already had an accident!

Liu Zhongjie, Guan Qiangguo, and other troublemakers watched eagerly.

Zhang Liang painfully shuffled to the podium, stopped, and looked up at Huang Guolun for help.

Huang Guolun frowned, “What are you doing?”

“Mr. Huang, I… I can’t hold it anymore! …Ah!”

With a desperate cry, Zhang Liang spun around, facing the blackboard, legs apart, knees bent, half-squatting, and, with a mighty effort—

“Pffft! … Crack! … Splash! … Pffft pffft!”

He audibly farted and had a diarrhea accident in full view of everyone!

“Oh… my god!”

Huang Guolun and the students were stunned. Many mouths formed O’s.

This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime sight!

No one had ever witnessed something so catastrophic.

No one laughed now—everyone was disgusted, horrified that Zhang Liang had had an accident in class.

Zhang Liang was beyond caring, rhythmically grunting, “Mm… mm…” as he strained and continued his performance.

Huang Guolun, seated behind the podium, felt his stomach churn in revulsion.

Several students in the front row, more sensitive, began dry heaving; a girl vomited outright, triggered by Zhang Liang’s explosive noises.

Vomiting is contagious.

Once one person threw up, those nearby felt even sicker.

Zhang Liang, meanwhile, looked pale, finally relieved, shamelessly glancing at his classmates, who had just been jeering but were now dumbstruck.

Before anyone could recover from the shock, Zhang Liang performed another feat: he carefully slipped his hand into his pants, fumbled around the back, and, to everyone’s horror, slowly withdrew his hand and sniffed it with apparent pleasure!

“Oh my god!!!!!”

Even his best friends Liu Zhongjie and Guan Qiangguo couldn’t stomach it.

Everyone was ready to lose their minds!

They’d seen weird behavior before, but never anything so extreme.

Having a public accident was bad enough, but sniffing it? Unthinkable.

Seeing the blackish-yellow mess on Zhang Liang’s finger, half the class couldn’t take it, dry heaving and retching.

The classroom became a battlefield of nausea, filled with the sounds of vomiting.

Huang Guolun prided himself on remaining calm in the face of disaster, but now he couldn’t hold it together.

He stood up, moved away from Zhang Liang, and shouted, “Are you insane? What are you doing?”

“Hehe, hehe.”

Zhang Liang, as if deranged, turned and grinned at Huang Guolun.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, as if determined to ruin Huang Guolun. Gritting his teeth, he shoved his soiled finger into his mouth and sucked it clean.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!”

At that moment, everyone in the classroom, including Huang Guolun, wanted to scream and tear their hair out.

Liu Zhongjie dry heaved, cursing, “Your brain’s been slammed by a door! My god! Could you be any more disgusting?”

A timid girl burst into tears, terrified by Zhang Liang’s madness.

Huang Guolun’s face turned green.

In all his years of teaching, he’d never encountered a student as deranged as Zhang Liang.

The classroom was on the verge of chaos, screams and howls threatening to overwhelm the scene.

And just then, Zhang Liang grinned.

He leisurely reached into his school pants, pulled out a packet of fermented bean paste from behind, and feigned innocence, showing it to his classmates, “I was just hungry, having some bean paste. Why are you all vomiting?”

Oh… my god!

Everyone felt as though they’d been struck by lightning, frozen in place.

Zhang Liang grinned mischievously, turning to Huang Guolun, “Mr. Huang, would you like some?”

Huang Guolun’s scalp tingled, fists clenched in rage as he shouted to the class, “What are you all waiting for? Hit him with your books!”

Liu Zhongjie was the first to act, grabbing a thick English dictionary and hurling it at Zhang Liang, “Everyone, kill Zhang Liang! He’s not human!”

“Bang bang bang bang—!”

Countless textbooks flew at Zhang Liang like a rain of bricks.

Zhang Liang laughed as he dodged, agile as he was, but couldn’t withstand the sheer volume.

Soon, he was overwhelmed, his face swollen, bowing to beg for mercy.

“Mercy? Die, you fiend!”

Their class’s top student, Bai Yao, furious, grabbed a heavy stainless steel lunchbox filled with Yangzhou fried rice and swung it at Zhang Liang.

Had it struck his head, he’d surely have been injured.

At the last moment, Zhang Liang, cornered, raised his hand to block, accidentally popping open the lunchbox.

“Smack!”

Perfect aim—the flying lunchbox struck Huang Guolun’s left temple!

It felt like taking a mythical punch; instantly, Huang Guolun’s mind exploded.

As if traversing time and space, his mind erupted like a volcano, flooded with strange, overwhelming inspiration.

Unable to withstand the onslaught, he collapsed behind the podium, fainting dead away.