Chapter 333 - Students

Apart from some self-made glassware and simple equipment, most items in the laboratories had been brought from the other timeline. Balances and microscopes were Class I Controlled Items on the Planning Committee's allocation list. The Executive Committee was evidently investing heavily in education.

"Cultivating talent requires decades of foresight. Chairman Wen and Superintendent Ma truly see the long term." Xiao Zishan offered the compliment. Such praise delivered outside earshot was often more effective than anything said to a person's face.

"I was startled myself when I first saw the design specifications. Remarkably generous." Hu Qingbai paused. "But I'm concerned—chemistry laboratories require many reagents. Can they be supplied?"

"In a few days, the Bopu Chemical Plant will fire up. Once 'Three Acids and Two Bases' production begins, most concerns will be resolved. Organic chemistry will remain difficult, but little else."

They emerged from the laboratory and continued to the dormitories, toilets, and bathhouses. Xiao Zishan paid particular attention to these basic sanitation facilities. Schools concentrated populations densely; if hygiene was neglected, even a flu outbreak could prove catastrophic.

Lingao Construction Company had accumulated considerable experience building such high-density residential facilities. The Bauhaus aesthetic was exploited to its fullest. Water supply, bathing, waste disposal, sewage—one by one, the Construction Company's engineers had resolved each challenge.

To reduce per-room population density while conserving land and materials, Mei Wan had redesigned the dormitories. Original single-story structures were expanded to two floors, increasing the floor-area ratio.

Under this plan, each room now housed thirty instead of one hundred—precisely the class size prescribed by educational planning. According to Hu Qingbai's experience, classes exceeding twenty students became difficult for a single teacher to manage. Thirty was just barely feasible.

Housing each class together—eating, sleeping, studying, and working as a unit—fostered unity and cultivated collective spirit and discipline.

Xiao Zishan was struck by the dormitory's impeccable orderliness. At the entrance of every dormitory building, male and female students wearing "On Duty" armbands stood watch. Upon entry, calls of "Officer Inspection!" echoed through sleeping quarters. Any random room revealed students standing at attention beside their beds, personal belongings and clothing arranged precisely. The atmosphere was entirely military—and the girls' dormitories were indistinguishable from the boys' in this regard.

"Excellent discipline!" Even someone with no military expertise like Xiao Zishan understood the value of disciplined masses: armies that would not break, and industrial workers capable of enduring high-intensity monotonous labor.

"This is the fruit of quarantine camp training," Bai Yu said. "Even the most recalcitrant individuals have been tamed. We also promote a student self-management system."

Each class was divided into groups of ten, each with a group leader. Class cadres included a monitor and three committee members responsible for studies, culture and sports, and daily life respectively.

"We require teachers only to assign tasks, not to handle implementation specifics. Students manage themselves as much as possible." Hu Qingbai elaborated. "Currently, this applies to dormitory management, including sanitation and security. Eventually, classes will rotate kitchen duty, maintain the campus environment, and organize study groups. We're aiming for 'self-governance,' 'self-support,' and 'self-study' among students."

"Is it working?"

"Not yet ideally." Hu Qingbai sighed. "Transforming mindsets doesn't happen overnight. Some students don't know what to do without explicit teacher instructions. Others swing to the opposite extreme and become petty tyrants. Just yesterday we dealt with one from the Vocational School. The boy actually argued that he was practicing 'self-management'—his classmates broke his rules, he said, so he, as their 'student official,' was duty-bound to punish them. 'Officials beating commoners,' you understand."

"An interesting child—a power-hungry brat! How was he handled?"

"Sent to the Labor Reform Brigade, along with his subordinate class committee members. Together they beat a classmate badly enough to cause a fracture and injured several others." Hu Qingbai shook his head. "If we don't lock this one up, he'll become a careerist later."

"Careerist?"

"The Political Security Bureau forwarded a report. Several students testified that this boy often claimed the room was filled with fragrance when he was born, that his mother dreamed of a great serpent entering her bosom during pregnancy, that fortune-tellers had declared him endowed with extraordinary destiny, fated for wealth and glory beyond ordinary mortals... that sort of nonsense. When questioned, he admitted it himself and insisted every word was true..."

"That sounds like mental illness. The same old clichéd portent stories." Xiao Zishan chuckled. "But quite imaginative. If left unchecked, he might style himself a local emperor someday."

"He won't have that chance now." Hu Qingbai's voice turned cold. "The Political Security Bureau sentenced him to 'Indefinite Labor Reform—not to be released without special authorization.'"

"That severe!" A chill ran down Xiao Zishan's spine. "He's only thirteen or fourteen. How much could he possibly understand? Isn't that excessive?"

"Had he not spouted those ridiculous claims about fragrant rooms and snake dreams, it wouldn't have been a major issue. But he said them, and he insisted they were true. That crossed the high-voltage line. Step on it and you fry."

Xiao Zishan privately felt the punishment was disproportionate, but in truth he had no fondness for such crude pretensions of divine destiny either. Let the unfortunate child pay the price for his delusions of grandeur.

Emerging from the dormitory tour, Hu Qingbai invited Xiao Zishan to sit in the office building. The Ministry of Education's headquarters fit the image of an academic institution perfectly: a two-story pseudo-European structure. Since the Ministry and the school were effectively one organization, this building also housed teachers' offices. But the interior was largely empty; few occupants could be seen.

Hu Qingbai led him into his own office. It was bare: just two facing desks and a few rattan chairs.

"They didn't even approve electric lighting!" Hu Qingbai groused. "Chang Kaishen insists this location is outside his wiring range!"

"There's a teacher shortage right now! Few transmigrators want to be full-time educators, and I have no authority over personnel. I've begged everywhere, and the Ministry of Education still has only twelve people. Those twelve also handle literacy instruction at the quarantine camp. We're running ourselves ragged." Hu Qingbai's frustration spilled over. "Everyone thinks being a 'schoolteacher' is tedious. Plenty will do part-time work, but part-timers have limited hours. We can't run night school for everything!"

"Speaking of teachers—weren't there scholars among the refugees recruited from Guangzhou? Train them to take positions first."

"Very few. Being able to write a few characters counts as remarkable. And the handful of actual intellectuals get intercepted by other departments the moment they leave quarantine."

"I'll raise the matter with the Executive Committee. Besides giving the Ministry of Education priority in extracting indigenous intellectuals, let's consider the women. Those with suitable backgrounds can be transferred to you." Xiao Zishan thought for a moment. "Many studied liberal arts. Keeping them scattered across departments as secretaries is pure waste. Fang Yijing, who manages dormitories for the General Office—now that occupancy has dropped, there's no need for a full-time administrator. She could be transferred here. To serve as your Head Matron."

"That would be excellent. With women on staff, I suspect we could attract a batch of liberal-arts otakus to teach as well." Hope lit Hu Qingbai's face.

"Most of them have boyfriends and husbands. Keep a close watch—no scandals." Xiao Zishan rolled his eyes. "Actually, there is a way to attract otakus to your school."

"What way?" Hu Qingbai's eyes widened.

"Think, man. What do you have in abundance here?"

"Students—"

"Female students, specifically..." Xiao Zishan said meaningfully.

Realization dawned. "Right, right!" Then Hu Qingbai frowned. "But they're all children—grubby-faced, thin as monkeys. Unless someone's a lolicon..."

"Didn't the Superintendent want you to establish a Simplified Normal School? Just select girls over fifteen with decent looks and start a Simplified Normal Class. Give them slightly better rations. Let them fill out, grow healthy and fair..." He paused. "And the sailor-suit uniforms our female students wear are awful—the tailoring is shoddy, the fabric worse. The Commune's garment factory has much better technique now, and good fabrics can be purchased from Guangzhou and Macau. Borrow any anime otaku's Japanese High School Girl Uniform Collection for reference, and have proper ones made—longer skirts, of course. Then announce that the Simplified Normal School is recruiting instructors. I guarantee those otakus will weep and clamor to return as People's Teachers."

"A Simplified Normal School can't enroll that many students. Perhaps a hundred at most. Can that create enough class sections?"

Bai Yu chimed in from the side. "We're only promising to let them teach Simplified Normal classes—not only Simplified Normal classes."

"Exactly. One period a week still counts as teaching." Xiao Zishan smiled. "Also, recruiting only a hundred for the Simplified Normal School is far too few. Aim for five hundred. Secure the literacy teachers—the lowest-demand role—first. Otherwise, you'll drown in basic instruction and have no time for administration."

"Recruiting all females might be problematic," Bai Yu cautioned. "This is the seventeenth century. There's no gender equality yet. If you put young girls in front of grown men to teach literacy, will the men accept it?"

"Working people still respect the educated, regardless of gender or status." Xiao Zishan considered this one of traditional Chinese society's virtues.

"But Bai Yu has a point. Recruit males as well."

It was thus decided: the first Simplified Normal School class would enroll five hundred students—three hundred fifty female and one hundred fifty male. Candidates would be teenagers aged fifteen to twenty who had completed literacy education and held a Class C Diploma. The Ministry of Education would concentrate most of its teachers to deliver a three-month intensive course, elevating these trainees to Class A Diploma-level proficiency.