Chapter 6
Principal Richardson, Director Anderson, and Linda stood in the office center like wooden posts.
The principal’s fat face was sagging, cold sweat soaking his shirt collar; Director Anderson’s
makeup was smeared, her eyes darting around; and Linda, who had been so arrogant before, now had a pale face and trembling lips, no longer daring to look at people sideways.
When she saw us enter, especially when she saw Steven, her body shook uncontrollably.
Steven’s gaze didn’t linger on them.
He turned to the two black–suited bodyguards behind us and said, “Bring the equipment in.”
The door was pushed open, and a huge, brand–new whiteboard was carried in, placed heavily in the
center of the office.
The three of them were startled again by this display.
“Mr… Mr. Walsh…” The principal shuffled forward half a step, forcing out a smile that looked more
like a grimace. “You see, this… this is all a misunderstanding! We regarding your donation…”
“Shut up,” Steven cut him off. “Right now, we’re not talking about money.”
He walked to the whiteboard, took a black marker pen, and placed it in my daughter’s small hand.
Crouching down, in a voice only the three of us could hear, he said gently, “Lily, don’t be afraid. Go write it. Write down the problem that caused you such grievance.”
Lily’s body was still trembling slightly. She looked at me, then at the encouraging look in Steven’s
eyes.
I held her small hand, wrapping my hand around hers, gripping the pen together.
Together, we forcefully wrote two lines on the huge whiteboard:
3×5=?
5×3=?
After writing, I raised my head, my gaze piercing directly at Linda. “Linda, didn’t you say that 3 times 5 doesn’t equal 5 times 3?”
Linda didn’t dare look at me or Steven, her eyes frantically darting around. “I… I was talking about
Chapter 6
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problem–solving approaches… logic…”
“Very good.” Steven clapped twice lightly.
He stepped forward, took the pen from Lily’s hand, and wrote a title on the whiteboard with flourishing strokes: “Proof of the Commutative Property of Integer Multiplication.”
He threw the pen down at Linda’s feet.
“Aren’t you the one who teaches logical rigor?” Steven’s smile grew colder. “Then please use any mathematical logic at the undergraduate level or above–group theory, ring theory, or directly use Peano axioms–to prove why the ‘commutative property of integer multiplication‘ holds.”
The principal’s fat face was twitching, Director Anderson’s mouth formed an “O” shape, and Linda immediately broke out in cold sweat.
“You… you’re being unreasonable!” Linda stammered in defense. “What does this have to do with elementary Advanced Mathematics Competition!”
“Of course it’s related,” I spoke coldly. “Didn’t you say you don’t teach grocery store arithmetic, but ‘logical rigor‘? Didn’t you emphasize ‘rules’ the most?”
I stepped forward, staring directly into her eyes that were dodging from guilt, saying word by word, “Now, please use the you tore up
gor‘ and ‘rules‘ you’re so proud of to solve this problem. When my daughter’s perfect paper, weren’t you very confident?”
“I…” Linda was speechless, unable to say a word.
A third–rate teacher’s college graduate who had climbed to her position through scheming and bribery—she couldn’t even
bribery–she couldn’t even understand what the problem was asking!
“Can’t prove it?” Steven laughed lightly, his laughter full of disdain. “If you can’t prove something, what right did you have to tear up my daughter’s perfect paper?!”
His voice suddenly rose, like thunder exploding!
Chapter 6
