Shengliver’s Note: Is the writer brave?


When I was in primary school, I was one of the most influential pupils in my class.


One day we got a new art teacher. He was a bad guy. In his first lesson, he told us, “I like collecting old things, in particular old coins. If you have any, boys and girls, you could swap them for cash with me. You could give your coins to me here when I am teaching. Or go to my office when there is no other teacher around.” I said to myself, “He is a downright hypocrite.”


Somewhere in the middle of the term, the teacher announced that there would be a test the next day. For the test each of us was to do a drawing and hand it in. After class, I talked about the test with some of my classmates, most of whom disliked the teacher just as much. We decided to take this opportunity to play a trick on him. Then about 25 students in my class, me included, did a big tortoise on the paper for the test. You can imagine how embarrassed he was when our works were presented to his eyes. On the third day, he was so fuming that he asked us who had come up with this idea and who was to blame for it. None of us answered. Then he threatened us, saying, “I will fail all who have drawn a tortoise.” Scared, we did not know what to do. In the nick of time I shot up from my seat and snapped, “You are so wicked. You are not fit to teach. If you fail us, I will go to the head teacher and let your secret out.” The man was so panic-stricken that his tone softened. He said, “I will let you pass this time. Never shall you go and tell the head teacher about it. In future you can do what you like in my class, OK?”


In the end, I went to the head teacher’s office anyway and told him everything about the guy. The next term I never saw the teacher in our school any more.


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