Reborn to Protect My School: My Northeast High School Must Not Be Demolished

I, Wang Jianguo, homeroom teacher at Northeast High School, was reborn on the last night of 1999. In my previous life, I was a coward. I watched helplessly as the school my father built was torn down, 127 children dropped out, and my proudest student, Zhang Meng, had his leg smashed. The very first second after I opened my eyes in this life, I ran barefoot to the school gate in minus-thirty-degree weather and hugged the battered wooden sign. "No one's tearing this school down!" My own brother called me an idiot. My sister-in-law was even worse: munching on sunflower seeds, she blocked the doorway and yelled abuse. Her mouth was like a blender: sunflower seeds went in, curses came out. My younger brother used the money our father had earned with his life to go to college, then turned around and took his older brother's side. While the whole family argued around the heated brick bed, I ripped into my older brother until he couldn't answer back. But when 127 children stood behind me, their noses running from the cold as they shouted, "Teacher, we're with you!" Zhang Meng's mother rushed to the front carrying a pot of tea eggs, and Zhang the Butcher blocked the school gate with his cleaver. The thugs sent by the developer ended up cowering after I gave them a piece of my mind. But who really pocketed the 80,000 yuan in compensation my father received back then? And who embezzled the money meant to build the school? How deeply was my eldest brother involved? Northeastern men have a code: when it comes to protecting their own, they're first to step up. Anyone who wants to tear down my school can ask me first if I'll let them!