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

After hearing this, everyone felt that something was wrong.

The girl frowned, and the boys who had just come in exchanged glances. Zong Wen was still standing next to the girl, his arms crossed, but the winking expression on his face was gone.

Zhang Yifan put the medical record back on the table, looked at the man, and spoke calmly, but his question was a step further than before.

"Think about it again. Did your son really only eat our steamed buns this morning? Or did he eat something completely different?"

The man opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to retort, but then stopped himself from speaking.

He lowered his head, his brows furrowed, as if trying to recall something.

After a few seconds of silence, when he spoke again, the anger in his tone had mostly subsided, replaced by a weary, uncertain, and even somewhat self-doubting bewilderment.

"I am a single father. My son grew up with me. His mother passed away early, so it's just the two of us at home."

Today is his college entrance exam. I specially switched to the early shift last night, thinking that I would cook him a good meal in the morning and then take him to the exam venue.

Around 5 a.m., my workplace called and said there was an emergency at the construction site and I needed to go there immediately.

I told my son that I was going out for a while and would be back soon, and that he should take care of his own breakfast. He told me, "Dad, don't worry, I can manage on my own."

I was worried, so I told him again to make sure he ate clean food. He said he knew, and urged me to hurry up and leave.

He paused for a moment and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"After I finished the urgent matter at the construction site and was about to head back, I received a call saying that he was vomiting and had diarrhea and had been sent to the hospital."

When I arrived at the hospital, he was receiving an IV drip, and his face was as white as paper.

I asked him what he ate for breakfast, and he said there was a breakfast shop near the exam site that was giving away free steamed buns to the test takers, and he took two.

When I heard that, my mind went blank.

Free steamed buns? Can free things be fresh? What good can something be given away for free on the day of the college entrance exam?

After he finished his IV drip, I took his medical record and started asking around along the way. People kept telling me your family was offering free steamed buns, so I came looking for you.

After saying this, he let out a long sigh.

He slumped into the chair, his shoulders drooping even lower.

The angry middle-aged man who was slamming the table, glaring, and pulling out medical records just now looks like a tired father caught between work and life, and overwhelmed by unexpected changes.

The atmosphere in the store suddenly became somewhat somber.

The girl lowered her head, and the boys fell silent. Zongwen quietly lowered his hand from his chest.

Just then, the shop door was pushed open again.

A boy walked in enthusiastically, holding up his phone with navigation enabled, shouting loudly, "We're here! This is the place!"

He was followed by several people, some carrying microphones, some carrying cameras, and one holding a lighting board. The group of people poured into the store in a grand manner, filling the already small store to the brim.

As soon as the young man entered, his gaze swept around the store. When he saw the man sitting at the table, his eyes lit up, and he greeted him familiarly.

"Hey, uncle! You actually found this place! How is it? Isn't it as delicious as the rumors say?"

The man recognized him; it was this boy who had given him directions to the shop offering free steamed buns when he had been asking around along the way.

His expression shifted from blank to confused: "What do you mean by 'as delicious as the rumors'?"

The boy was also stunned for a moment, looking at himself and then at the group of people in the store.

The atmosphere seemed a little different from what I had expected:

"Didn't you come here to eat steamed buns? I saw you asking about 'the shop that gives out free steamed buns to test takers,' so I assumed you came because you heard their buns were delicious...Aren't you one of them?"

"No," the man said, "I'm here to settle a score with this store."

The boy was stunned.

The reporters behind him were also stunned.

Everyone looked at the middle-aged man sitting in the chair, looking exhausted, with the same puzzled expression.

Zhang Rongshan was stunned to see so many reporters and cameras.

He stood beside the cashier, looking at the room full of people, and asked, "What are you all doing here...?"

A female reporter picked up the microphone, took a step forward, and wore a professional smile.

"Hello, we are from the city television station."

Today is the National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao). We conducted street interviews at the entrances of various examination centers, asking candidates what they most wanted to do after the exam.

Guess what? Many students who came out of the No. 1 Middle School exam site said that they most wanted to come to Ronggui Snacks to eat steamed buns.

They said your family provides free steamed buns for test takers, which are delicious and fresh. After eating them, I felt my mind was clear, and my Chinese composition went particularly smoothly that morning.

We followed the address and came here, wanting to do a brief interview to show the audience this kind-hearted little shop.

"Are you the boss? May I ask how you came up with the idea of ​​providing free steamed buns to test takers on the day of the college entrance examination? Where did this idea come from?"

Zhang Rongshan was still clutching the chopstick holder in his hand, his expression shifting from bewildered to even more bewildered.

He had said he wanted to run the shop well and thought that people would come to eat, but he never expected that a reporter would come to interview him, especially because a student said that eating his steamed buns "made his mind clear."

Those steamed buns were made with pork and cabbage, not some kind of magic potion.

He looked at Zhang Yifan for help.

The girl who had spoken first walked up to the man, her voice much softer than when she had confronted him earlier.

"Uncle, look, so many test takers say the steamed buns are delicious, and even reporters have come to interview them."

If there really was something wrong with the steamed buns, how could so many people have eaten them without any problems, and why would people specifically seek them out? There must be some misunderstanding.

The man sat in the chair, looking at the reporters and cameras filling the room, then at the kind girl who had come to help clarify things, and finally looked down at the medical record on the table.

He reached up and scratched the back of his head, his anger completely replaced by confusion and self-doubt.

"Could it be... could it be that I'm mistaken? The free steamed buns my son was talking about aren't from this place?"

No, I have to go to the hospital again. I need to ask him in person where he got his steamed buns.

He stood up, picked up the medical record from the table, gave Zhang Rongshan a cursory nod, and turned to walk towards the door.

"Wait a moment."

Zhang Yifan called out to him.

The man turned around.

Zhang Yifan took two steps forward, looked him in the eyes, and spoke in a steady tone.

"Uncle, food poisoning is no small matter."

If someone fed your child spoiled food, they are responsible.

Your son's college entrance exam has already been delayed; this matter cannot be left unresolved.

Since we have journalist friends here today, let's have them be witnesses.

Upon hearing this, the female reporter immediately perked up her ears.

She had already picked up on some clues from the side.

This shop that gives away free steamed buns has been wrongly accused, and a student's college entrance exam has been delayed. There's more to the story than meets the eye.

She quickly walked up to the man, handed him the microphone, her voice friendly yet restrained, but the curiosity in her eyes was already fully revealed:

"Sir, what difficulties are you facing? Perhaps we can help you."

.......