The classroom for Grade One, Class 14 was in the westernmost corner of the first floor of the teaching building, right next to the restrooms, making it the worst location in the entire grade.
In his previous life, when Yang Mingyu walked towards this classroom for the first time, every step felt like he was walking to the execution ground. But in this life, he walked with a spring in his step, filled with impatience.
From a distance, he could hear the clamor from the classroom, like a bustling market.
He walked to the classroom door and took a deep breath.
He was here.
He pushed open the creaking wooden door.
"Boom—!"
A turbid smell, a mix of sweat, snacks, and a faint hint of smoke, assaulted him, accompanied by deafening noise.
The entire classroom was a chaotic marketplace.
Several boys in the back row were gathered around a desk, playing "Fight the Landlord" with a deck of cards. Shouts and table-slapping sounds rose and fell, and a boy who had lost money was pulling crumpled banknotes from his pocket, his face full of indignation.
By the window, several girls were huddled together, chattering about celebrity gossip, laughing so hard their bodies swayed. One of them had MP3 headphones in her ears, her body swaying to the rhythm, completely immersed in her own world.
On the other side of the classroom, several boys who looked like jocks were loudly boasting, comparing whose sneakers were more expensive and who was better at the King of Fighters game.
In the first row in front of the podium, an even bolder girl was holding a small mirror, applying shiny lip gloss as if no one else was there.
In the entire class, with over fifty people, almost no one was preparing for class. They were either playing, chatting, or daydreaming. It was as if this wasn't a school, but a large KTV entertainment center.
Yang Mingyu's appearance did not cause any stir in the class.
Only a few students near the door lazily glanced at him, then turned their heads back to their own business.
They didn't take this young teacher, who looked no different from a university intern, seriously.
Yang Mingyu wasn't angry either.
His gaze quickly swept across the class, looking at those faces that were both familiar and heartbreaking in his memories.
In the most inconspicuous corner of the classroom, a thin boy was hunched over, his hands rapidly pressing something inside his desk. That was Lin Tian, and he was completely engrossed in playing his GBA—a portable game console. The flickering light from the screen made his delicate face alternately bright and dim, and his eyes held a secluded concentration.
In the front row by the window, a girl in a faded school uniform was looking down, expressionlessly using a small knife to carve something into the scratched desk, stroke by stroke. She had neat short hair, and her eyes were as cold as ice. That was Zhao Min, the school's notorious "delinquent girl," whom no one dared to provoke.
Sitting in the center of the classroom, surrounded by a group of people he was boasting to, was Wang Hao, the arrogant rich second generation, covered in brand-name clothes. He was spewing spittle, his voice loud: "Let me tell you, my dad just got me the latest Nokia last week, with a camera! I'll show you guys after class!"
And there was Zhang Wei, the chubby jock, hunched in the back row, grinning foolishly as he listened to Wang Hao brag, occasionally chiming in with a few words.
And Chen Jing, sitting in the first row, her head buried in a book, wishing she could become invisible…
Each face, each scene, perfectly overlapped with the memories from twenty years ago.
In his previous life, when he saw this scene, he was stunned on the spot. He stood at the podium, banging on the table for a long time, his throat hoarse from shouting, before he could barely get the classroom to quiet down. But that quiet was perfunctory, tinged with mockery. His first appearance ended in embarrassment, with the students asserting their dominance.
This time, however, Yang Mingyu calmly walked to the podium. He gently placed his lesson plan and the appointment notice on the chalk-dusted lectern, his movements unhurried.
Then, he just stood there quietly, without saying a word.
The clamor in the classroom continued.
Those playing cards continued.
Those chatting continued to laugh.
Those boasting continued to brag.
It was as if he was just a passerby who had wandered in, an inessential part of the air.
One minute passed.
Two minutes passed.
Yang Mingyu still didn't speak, and his expression didn't change in the slightest. He just stood there, his gaze calmly scanning everyone below, like an experienced hunter patiently observing his prey.
Gradually, some people sensed that something was off.
The students closest to the podium were the first to stop talking. They looked strangely at this odd person on the podium who neither got angry nor spoke.
This eerie silence slowly spread.
The sound of chatter diminished.
The sound of boasting dropped an octave.
Even those playing cards in the back row unconsciously lightened the force of their table-slapping.
The noise in the entire classroom slowly, imperceptibly, subsided. Everyone's gaze, whether curious, disdainful, or provocative, began to intentionally or unintentionally converge on the figure at the podium.
They were all waiting to see what this new homeroom teacher intended to do.
However, Yang Mingyu still did not speak.
He just stood there, his eyes deep, as if he could see through everyone's hearts.
The classroom fell into an eerie, anxious silence.
The air seemed to solidify.
Even Lin Tian felt the change in atmosphere; his fingers on the game console buttons unconsciously slowed down.
Zhao Min's hand, carving the desk, also paused. Although she didn't look up, her ears twitched slightly.
Finally, Wang Hao, the rich second generation, couldn't stand the oppressive atmosphere any longer. He leaned back casually in his chair, crossed his legs, and deliberately spoke loudly to the student next to him: "Hey, I say, is this teacher a mute? He's been up there for ages and hasn't said a peep."
"Hahahaha!"
A burst of laughter erupted in the classroom, and the recently solidified atmosphere was instantly broken.
Everyone looked towards the podium with expressions of anticipation, wanting to see how this new teacher would react after being publicly provoked. Would he fly into a rage and bang on the table, or would he sheepishly begin his self-introduction?
However, to everyone's surprise.
Not only did Yang Mingyu not get angry, but the corners of his mouth even curved slightly upwards, revealing a faint smile.
He was finally going to speak.
All the students in the class perked up their ears, waiting for his first words.