Don't underestimate the poor and elderly; I was thrilled to refuse the class beauty's adva

Just then, footsteps came from the stairwell on the second floor.

The principal has arrived.

The principal's surname was Meng. He was in his fifties, wore gold-rimmed glasses, had his hair neatly combed, wore a faded gray jacket, and wore a pair of old Beijing cloth shoes. He looked very refined.

He was eating in the teachers' cafeteria on the second floor when he heard the commotion below getting louder and louder, so he had to come and check it out.

When Principal Meng walked down the stairs, the cafeteria on the first floor had become much quieter.

When the students saw the principal arrive, they automatically made way for him, all eyes fixed on him, hoping he would uphold justice.

The expression on Zhou Degui's face changed dramatically the moment Principal Meng appeared.

Just moments ago, Zhou Degui had been standing with his hands on his hips, a cigarette dangling from his lips, looking like he was some kind of king. But now he seemed like a completely different person.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill in an instant, a fawning smile spreading across his fleshy face, and strode forward, his back slightly bent.

"Principal Meng, why did you come down here? You were having a perfectly good meal upstairs. I can handle this little matter myself, how could I trouble you?"

Principal Meng frowned, his gaze passing over Zhou Degui, looking at the dense crowd of students gathered in front of the window, and then at the plate Zong Wen was holding and the still-reflecting steel wool on it.

"What happened?"

Before anyone else could speak, Zhou Degui said, "It's nothing, it's nothing. It's just that a few students were being silly and found some foreign objects in their food. I've already explained it to them. Kids these days are so picky; they won't eat this or that. It's alright, I'll take care of it right away."

Principal Meng frowned even more deeply.

His gaze lingered on Zhou Degui's face for a moment, then swept over the group of students carrying trays and looking angry, before finally settling back on Zhou Degui.

But he didn't go toward the students, didn't ask anyone "what your demands are", didn't look at the bug crawling on the vegetable leaf, and didn't look at the wire.

He gently patted Zhou Degui on the shoulder.

"Don't cause any trouble."

The sound was very soft, and only Zhou Degui and a few students who were closest to him could hear it.

After saying this, Principal Meng turned around, put his hands behind his back, and walked back up the stairs step by step in his old Beijing cloth shoes.

The aroma of braised ribbonfish wafted from the second-floor cafeteria above the stairs, a stark contrast to the cold leftovers and wire worms served to the students on the first floor—a world apart from the food of the past.

The students looked at each other, their anger gradually turning into disappointment.

After Principal Meng left, Zhou Degui straightened his back.

The fawning on his face vanished completely, like a mask that had been peeled off.

He lit another cigarette and put it in his mouth, glanced at the students still lingering by the window, and waved impatiently.

"Alright, alright, did you all hear that? The principal said not to cause any trouble. Okay, okay, go eat your meal, stop crowding around here. The cafeteria will definitely be rectified from now on, okay?"

The word "rectification" was added off casually by him, his tone as perfunctory as if he were dismissing a beggar.

After saying that, he turned around and walked towards the kitchen without even looking back.

The cook picked up his ladle again, placed it on the window, and called out in a booming voice, "Next!"

It's as if nothing ever happened.

The students looked at each other, their anger completely extinguished by the principal's lukewarm remark, "Don't cause any trouble."

The crowd gradually dispersed. Some people took their trays back to their seats and silently ate their leftovers, while others simply threw away their leftovers and left. Some were still muttering curses, but their voices had clearly been lowered.

Zong Wen stood in front of the window, still holding the plate in his hand, his expression as if he had been fed a mouthful of flies.

He slammed his plate down on the table, turned and walked out of the cafeteria with quick, heavy steps, as if he were going to crush the floor tiles with each step.

Zhang Yifan stood beside him, without saying a word.

As I stepped out of the cafeteria, a cool evening breeze greeted me, carrying a hint of early autumn chill.

Zong Wen stood at the door, took a deep breath, and then suddenly turned around and gave the middle finger towards the direction of the cafeteria.

"What a load of rubbish! You can't believe a word he says! Pigs can climb trees! Do you even know who Zhou Degui, the person in charge of the cafeteria, is?"

Zhang Yifan looked at him.

Zong Wen withdrew his hand, his voice filled with suppressed anger:

"He's the principal's brother-in-law! Principal Meng is a tyrant at school, but he pretends to be a good person outside. Who doesn't know that his brother-in-law used his connections to contract the cafeteria and ruined the school like this?"

"The hygiene inspections are all scheduled in advance every year. No one dares to investigate because the vegetable prices are inflated; they're using leftover vegetables that the market doesn't want anymore!"

"It's precisely because of this relationship that Zhou Degui dares to act so recklessly!"

As he spoke, his fists clenched again: "I fucking can't swallow this!"

Zhang Yifan reached out and patted Zong Wen's shoulder. The hand landed with a bit of force, as if he was pressing down a surge of anger.

"Alright, stop being so angry. No one's going to reimburse your medical bills if you get really upset." He said calmly, "Come on, I'll treat you to a meal out."

Zong Wen was still angry and retorted without thinking, "You're treating me? You don't have any money, kid. You borrowed ten yuan from me last time to buy milk tea and you still haven't paid it—"

He abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

Zhang Yifan repaid him twenty yuan, including interest, for the ten yuan he borrowed last time, and he still remembers that debt.

But he still didn't believe it.

He knew Zhang Yifan's family situation all too well. He usually only carried around ten or twenty yuan in pocket, barely enough to buy a simple stir-fry at the cafeteria, let alone a proper meal. What would they use to afford such a meal?

Zhang Yifan didn't waste any words with him. He reached into his pocket and his fingertips touched a neatly folded banknote.

He took out the money and spread it out in front of Zongwen.

A bright red 100-yuan bill.

Zong Wen's eyes widened instantly, and his mouth opened into an exaggerated "O" shape.

He snatched the banknote, examined it from all angles, and then held it up to the streetlight to check the watermark, confirming that it was indeed a genuine banknote.

"What the hell? Where did you get a hundred bucks?" He held the bill up to Zhang Yifan's nose, like he was interrogating a criminal. "You usually only have ten or twenty bucks in your pocket, how come you're suddenly so rich? Did you win the lottery?"

Zhang Yifan calmly snatched the banknotes back from his hand, folded them neatly, and stuffed them back into his pocket.

How could he tell Zongwen that he had withdrawn some cash from an ATM on his way home from school to verify whether the 300,000 yuan in his bank card was real?

His hands were trembling slightly as he inserted his bank card, entered his PIN, and the machine dispensed 100 yuan.

Of course, he couldn't say a single word of these things to Zong Wen.

"My mom saw that I've been studying hard lately, so she gave me a little extra."

He made up a reason on the spot.

Zong Wen looked at him suspiciously for two seconds, but was quickly drawn to the more tempting topic of "going out for a meal".

With a wave of his hand, he completely forgot about the steel wool, the bugs, and the bullshit principal and his brother-in-law.

"Fine! It's rare for you, Zhang the Iron-Fisher, to pluck a feather from me. Tonight, if I don't devour that hundred yuan of yours, I'm not a member of the Zong family!"

Zhang Yifan's lips curled up slightly: "Then you'd better be prepared to change your surname."