PCJ – Chapter 539 The Evening Party

“Zhang Jiaohua!”

Just as Zhang Jiaohua reached the classroom door, he heard hurried footsteps approaching. Without even turning around, he knew who it was. Teacher Tang Juxiang had a very distinctive voice—high-pitched and rather unpleasant, like a falsetto that made people uncomfortable.

Zhang Jiaohua knew exactly why Tang Juxiang was looking for him. He turned around and forced a smile. “Hello, Teacher Tang.”

“Did you call them about what we discussed last time?” Tang Juxiang asked.

“That’s a bit tricky. It just so happens that our school’s evening party clashes with their movie premiere. I can’t really ask them to skip the premiere for our event, can I?” Zhang Jiaohua replied with a smile.

Tang Juxiang managed a forced smile. “That’s not really an option either.”

“How about just canceling this performance?” Zhang Jiaohua suggested.

“How can we do that? I’ve already made a promise to the school leadership, and they’ve made a promise to the education bureau. If the performance doesn’t happen, the school leaders will be in trouble—then so will I,” Tang Juxiang said, nearly in tears.

Sigh, so many worldly worries, Zhang Jiaohua lamented inwardly. He then said, “I’ll talk to them again, see if we can figure something out.”

“Alright then,” Tang Juxiang nodded.

By now, a bunch of students had gathered around the door, eavesdropping on Zhang Jiaohua and Tang Juxiang’s conversation.

Zhang Jiaohua pushed the door open—BANG! Several thuds followed, but the door didn’t open fully. He heard cries of pain from inside the classroom.

“Ow!”…

When Zhang Jiaohua finally got the door open, he saw Zheng Wendong, Xu Chuan’an, and the others rubbing their heads.

“What were you all doing behind the door?” he asked.

“Jiaohua, tell me the truth—can you really get Chen Cheng and the others to come?” Zheng Wendong asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“If they’re free, it should be possible,” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

“Zhang Jiaohua acted in a film with them, they seem pretty close. I saw the behind-the-scenes footage of Tombstorm,” said Li Wenjuan.

“Jiaohua, we’re such good buddies and you never told me. I’m a die-hard fan of Chen Cheng!” Zheng Wendong exclaimed.

“How was I supposed to know? It’s not written on your forehead,” Zhang Jiaohua said grumpily.

“You’re right. I should go tattoo ‘I love Chen Cheng’ on my forehead!” Zheng Wendong joked. But if he actually did that, his father would probably chase him all the way to the Great Wall with a stick.

“I bet a full set of the Four Great Classical Novels that Zheng Wendong wouldn’t dare do it!” Xu Chuan’an chimed in, stirring the pot.

Zheng Wendong kicked him. “If I get a tattoo, Mr. Shen won’t let me stay on the school team.”

“What’s all this noise? Class is starting, can’t you settle down? What other class is as unruly as ours?” Wei Yunlong walked in, clearly displeased by the noisy classroom.

The students, caught up in excitement moments ago, scattered like mice seeing a cat, returning to their seats. Only Zhang Jiaohua sauntered casually to his desk—right under Wei Yunlong’s watchful eye.

Wei Yunlong frowned. Everyone thought Zhang Jiaohua was about to be called out and made an example of. But instead, Wei Yunlong spoke up:

“I don’t want our class to be lifeless, but there’s got to be a limit. Not every student can be like Zhang Jiaohua—ace the citywide exams after only two months of study, right?”

He paused and glanced around.

Yeah right! That was the thought in almost every student’s mind. Anyone else would be reprimanded for causing a scene, but with Zhang Jiaohua, it became praise-worthy. Even Zhang Jiaohua was stunned—it wasn’t exactly something to be commended for.

“Everyone should learn from Zhang Jiaohua—balance work and rest. Alright, that’s it. Let’s start class,” Wei Yunlong wrapped it up, not wanting to dig himself deeper.

Later, Zhang Jiaohua called Chen Cheng and was surprised to get a definite yes.

“We’ve already discussed it. Not only will I come, but Yan-jie and Haibo will come too. Just make sure our performance is scheduled later in the show. We’ll pop over after making a brief appearance at the premiere. There’s nothing else for us to do afterward anyway.”

This time, it wasn’t just Chen Cheng making the effort. Tang Yan and Chen Haibo also worked hard to make it happen. Even Director Lin Jianming did his part. After all, Zhang Jiaohua had saved the crew twice—most of them remembered this well.

Helping him now was the least they could do. Establishing a good relationship with someone like Zhang Jiaohua was far more valuable than the success of Haunted House Storm. Lin Jianming was even willing to sacrifice the premiere’s impact to maintain this bond. After negotiating with the organizers, the main cast—Chen Haibo, Chen Cheng, and Tang Yan—only needed to show up at the start of the premiere before leaving. Even if this weakened the premiere’s impact, Lin didn’t mind. With Tombstorm as a foundation, he was confident in the new film’s success.

Zhang Jiaohua didn’t tell anyone at school the good news, worried that something might still go wrong—leaving Tang Juxiang nearly frantic with worry.

Soon it was the night of the party. Before the show even started, Tang Juxiang hurried over again.

“Zhang Jiaohua, the party’s about to begin. Are they really coming?”

“I called Chen Cheng. She said to place their performance near the end. They’ll prepare it themselves. But I can’t guarantee they won’t have last-minute issues. I didn’t sign a contract with them—if they don’t show, there’s nothing I can do,” Zhang Jiaohua said.

“Can’t you try calling again?” Tang Juxiang was nearly begging.

Zhang Jiaohua understood. “They should be hard to reach now. The premiere is starting. But I’m pretty confident they’ll make it.”

“Alright… I trust you. Please, Zhang Jiaohua, you have to help me,” Tang Juxiang said through gritted teeth, gambling it all.

Because the stars from Haunted House Storm were expected, the rest of the performances lost their shine. Everyone was focused on seeing the celebrities. The school’s own carefully prepared programs were barely noticed. As good as those shows were, there would always be future chances to see them. But a live performance by a top-tier star like Tang Yan was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for high schoolers.

On stage, the performers gave it their all. But the audience was abuzz with chatter. Even the school and education bureau leaders in the front rows whispered among themselves.

“Director Tang, are you sure Tang Yan will be here? This can’t go wrong. The education bureau reps were just talking to me about it. Our city’s schools have had stars appear before, but not on this level. If Tombstorm’s main actors come, that would be amazing,” said Principal Li Kunda, clearly anxious.

“I just checked with Zhang Jiaohua. He said it should be fine—but there might still be some last-minute changes,” Tang Juxiang didn’t dare make any guarantees. If something went wrong after she promised, she’d be in serious trouble.

Li Kunda frowned. “Go find Zhang Jiaohua again. Make sure everything is settled.”

“Principal Li, they are coming, right? My daughter’s been begging me to bring her just to see Tang Yan. If they don’t show, I won’t know how to face her.” One of the education bureau officials had brought along his teenage daughter.

“It’s confirmed. As long as there’s no surprise, they’ll be here,” Principal Li reassured them.

“Good, good.”

Tang Juxiang found Zhang Jiaohua sitting at the very back, looking uninterested.

“Jiaohua, why are you sitting here? I gave you front-row tickets,” she asked.

“I gave them to my classmates. This seat’s fine,” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

“Can you try contacting Chen Cheng again? I need to schedule their performance.”

“Okay,” Zhang Jiaohua said, pulling out his phone—making nearby students envious. Even in the capital, few high schoolers owned cell phones.

Just as he was scrolling through his contacts, his phone rang. It was Chen Cheng.

“They’re calling.” Zhang Jiaohua said.

Tang Juxiang immediately grew nervous. A call at this moment—could it mean something had come up and they couldn’t make it? If they weren’t coming, then everything would be ruined.