Chapter Fourteen: The Mad Scholar

Returning once more to Tan Fishhead’s office, the old fellow maintained his unshakable composure, as steady as a mountain. He glanced at Jiang Xiwen from beneath his glasses, then returned his gaze to his lesson notebook, saying, “Xiwen, you’re here. I never imagined you’d have such talent in computing. I, Old Tan, am truly glad for you.”

He calls himself Old Tan now—yesterday’s conversation must have left quite an impact, Jiang Xiwen mused silently. He replied without ceremony, “Thank you, Old Tan.”

“Hmm? Old Tan?” Tan Fishhead finally lifted his head, looking at Jiang Xiwen. After a few seconds, he spoke, “You’re bold, addressing me with my own nickname. Why haven’t you turned in your homework today? Not just math, but none of your assignments in any subject. Yesterday you disrupted Ms. Zhu’s class, and today you’re neglecting your studies—this won’t do.”

Though Tan Fishhead questioned him, his tone wasn’t harsh, and Jiang Xiwen could tell. He sat down carelessly, unhurried, and said, “Doing these assignments is a waste of time. My passion is computer programming, and I can guarantee I’ll have no trouble with this semester’s finals and the upcoming high school entrance exam. Why bother with homework?”

“You?!” Tan Fishhead was taken aback, then leveled his tone, “You’re quite confident…”

The office door burst open with a loud bang, and Ms. Zhu’s sharp voice cut Tan Fishhead short: “Jiang Xiwen, how dare you! Don’t think you can do whatever you please just because you solved a few exercises. Old Tan, this student is utterly hopeless!”

You’ve walked right into this, don’t blame me, Jiang Xiwen thought with amusement. He kept a serious face and replied, “Ms. Zhu, are you eavesdropping outside? Didn’t you know you’re supposed to knock before entering?”

“You?! Who are you to lecture me?! Tomorrow, bring your parents. I want to see how they discipline you!” It seemed Ms. Zhu had forgotten her embarrassment from yesterday’s class and once again asserted her authority over Jiang Xiwen.

“Heh.” Jiang Xiwen smiled lightly, “Don’t you think that always calling for students’ parents is a sign of a teacher’s failure? If you can’t even ‘educate’ a minor like me, how do you expect to handle adults?”

“Jiang Xiwen, you’re a delinquent, trash,…” Ms. Zhu had no argument left, and, losing her temper, she resorted to shouting, disregarding any sense of professionalism.

Jiang Xiwen glanced at Tan Fishhead, who had been frowning slightly but remained silent. Given his position, he ought to have stepped in to help Ms. Zhu, but his current demeanor confirmed what he’d left unsaid yesterday—he was clearly dissatisfied with her.

Since you’re letting me continue, Old Tan, I won’t hold back. Jiang Xiwen sneered, “Ms. Zhu, take a look at yourself. Where is the dignity of a teacher in your behavior? Why shouldn’t I have the right to admonish you?”

“You!” Ms. Zhu pointed at Jiang Xiwen, “Watch yourself!” With that, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

“Xiwen…” Tan Fishhead began, but Jiang Xiwen interrupted, “No need to say more, Mr. Tan. I know you don’t like Ms. Zhu either, or you wouldn’t just sit and watch as I rebuke her. I understand—an adult can hardly criticize a colleague, especially with her husband being Director Fang.”

Tan Fishhead was momentarily at a loss for words, “Uh…”

Jiang Xiwen stood up, took Tan Fishhead’s tea-stained cup, filled it with fresh water, then sat back down and said, “I believe a good teacher isn’t just someone who, like you, pours energy into preparing lessons and constantly urging students to study. A good teacher should stand alongside students as equals, adapting to their needs. Among all our teachers, I believe only you can do that.”

He patted Tan Fishhead’s shoulder, as if he were the teacher here.

“Mm, I…” Tan Fishhead instinctively responded. A few seconds later, realization dawned on him, and he glared, “You rascal, almost fooled me! Who’s the teacher here, anyway?”

Jiang Xiwen replied, “When three walk together, there must be one who can teach me~~”

Tan Fishhead was taken aback, raised his cup, and regarded Jiang Xiwen with a solemn expression. Then, he slammed the cup down onto the desk.

Jiang Xiwen wasn’t the least bit intimidated. His previous impression of Tan Fishhead was that he was somewhat pedantic, but after two visits to this office, he saw the old fellow anew. Though his mannerisms seemed stiff, Tan Fishhead was in fact more willing to set aside his pride than many young teachers, making it easier to befriend students.

Even if he really got angry, at worst, all the teachers would think Jiang Xiwen was a bad student, and leave him alone, giving him more time to follow his plans after being reborn. Whether he paid attention in class or not, it wouldn’t stop him from getting into a top high school’s advanced class.

Seeing that Jiang Xiwen wasn’t fazed by his temper, Tan Fishhead’s expression suddenly softened. He laughed heartily, “Good lad, you remind me of myself in my youth. Your eloquence is remarkable—had you lived in the Former Qin period, you’d surely be counted among the great debaters of the day!”

“Mr. Tan, you flatter me!” Jiang Xiwen cupped his hands in a gesture full of ancient charm.

He had guessed Tan Fishhead wouldn't make things difficult for him, but hadn't expected such praise, reminiscent of the wild talents of old. This kind of teacher intrigued Jiang Xiwen, and the mood he once had for writing alternate-history novels surged anew. He played along, offering words in kind.

“Jiang Xiwen, you pretend to be meek, but you’re a hidden gem. You’re right—students like you require a different approach. Still, most of your classmates are ordinary and must follow the student code, or everything would fall into chaos.” Tan Fishhead paused, then continued, “I can allow you not to do homework, but to have every teacher agree, you’ll need approval from the education director. That means the school will likely test you, and then promote you straight to high school, trumpeting your genius to outsiders.

From your sharp analysis of the Battle of Feishui yesterday, I can see you’re thoughtful. You’re not avoiding homework to become a celebrity, to stand out, or to get stuck reading dry books, skipping grades, and becoming some so-called young college student.”

Tan Fishhead’s scenario was something Jiang Xiwen hadn't considered. Aside from his rebirth, Tan Fishhead was naturally more familiar with the workings of junior high. His candid warning taught Jiang Xiwen much, and made him appreciate the old fellow all the more.

“Thank you, Mr. Tan!” Jiang Xiwen bowed deeply.

Tan Fishhead took a sip of water, then said, “It’s too soon for thanks—you’ll be crying soon enough…”

Jiang Xiwen replied, “Besides being a genius student, there’s another way to gain special privileges: by being an unmanageable underachiever. Please inform the other teachers that I’m hopeless, not worth their effort. Ms. Zhu is petty and will spread bad words about me everywhere, so everything will go according to plan.”

What Jiang Xiwen proposed was exactly what Tan Fishhead hoped to teach him—a bold idea that matched his own, filling Tan Fishhead with delight. To befriend a student like Jiang Xiwen was a true joy in life.

“When I was young, I prided myself on being a maverick. Your method is just what I wanted to use—was worried you wouldn’t agree, but you surpass even my younger self. As for Ms. Zhu, I’ll handle her; I don’t believe Director Fang dares do anything to you!”

A wild scholar! The phrase flashed in Jiang Xiwen’s mind. “Old Tan, there’s one more thing I need to ask. My parents—I’d like you to find an opportunity to talk to them, so they don’t worry.”

“Filial piety comes first. Even a wild one must be filial. Good lad, well done. Of course, I’ll do as you ask.” Tan Fishhead nodded, as if entering another world. He rose, hands behind his back, strode to the window, and sang a verse. When he finished and turned to look for Jiang Xiwen, the office was already empty. Tan Fishhead paused for a moment, then laughed, shaking his head: “Others see a block of wood, but I see a child worth teaching.”