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

The man held his phone, tapped the screen several times, and dialed a video call.

The ringtone was exceptionally clear in the quiet shop, and it rang several times before being answered.

A young face appeared on the screen, pale, with dry lips and slightly sunken eyes, clearly indicating that he had just experienced vomiting and diarrhea.

The background is white walls and light blue curtains. You can vaguely hear someone coughing in the next bed. They must still be in the hospital emergency room.

Seeing his son like this, the man's eyes reddened again, but he held them back, holding the phone up to his face and trying to keep his voice steady:

"Son, tell Dad the truth, what did you eat this morning?"

"Dad, don't worry, listen to me..."

The boy on the screen leaned against the hospital bed, his voice weak but still relatively clear.

"After you left this morning, I packed my things and went out. I was still thinking about what to eat when I saw a lot of people gathered in front of a shop called Ronggui Snacks. There was a red paper hanging there that said they were providing free steamed buns for college entrance exam takers, so I thought I'd go and take a look."

Upon hearing this, the man nearly dropped his phone, turning to Zhang Rongshan and shouting, "Look! My son said it's your son, Baozi!"

His voice rose again, and the dejected and exhausted father instantly transformed into an angry protector.

Just as Zhang Rongshan was about to speak, Zhang Yifan reached out and stopped him.

"Let him finish what he has to say."

Zhang Yifan looked at his phone screen, his tone calm.

"Your son hasn't finished speaking yet."

The man opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but seeing Zhang Yifan's unyielding face, he swallowed his words back.

He held the phone up again and said to the screen, "Continue speaking, finish speaking, without missing a single word."

The boy on the screen coughed and continued:

"There were too many people in line. I stood at the back of the line for about two or three minutes, and there were still more than a dozen people ahead of me."

I thought to myself, "Today is the college entrance exam, there's no need to waste time queuing for steamed buns," and I was about to leave when an older man stopped me.

"An older man?" The female reporter raised her eyebrows, grasping the key point.

"Yes, the owner of a steamed bun shop."

He asked me, "Kid, are you also a high school graduate who received a steamed bun?"

I said yes, but the queue was too long and I didn't want to wait.

He grabbed my arm very enthusiastically and said that his shop also provides free breakfast for college entrance exam takers. Since this shop is so crowded, why don't you go to his shop to get yours? His shop is less crowded and you don't have to queue.

He also invited the other people in line to go together, saying that everything was free for the test takers and there was no need to crowd into this one place.

Hearing this, Zhang Yifan glanced at his father.

Zhang Rongshan's brows furrowed even more, his lips moved, but he didn't speak.

Liu Guilan stood at the kitchen doorway, the dishcloth in her hand twisted into a pretzel.

"A few people in the queue felt the wait was too long, so they came with us."

The boy's voice came from the screen, weak but clear.

"But when I got to the owner's steamed bun shop, I started to regret it."

That shop, well... it was very dirty.

The door curtain was covered in grease stains, flies were crawling around the steamer, and there were cardboard boxes piled on the ground that had been there for who knows how long.

The people who came with us saw the sanitary conditions and turned around and left.

I hesitated for a moment, but then I thought, "What's the difference between eating and eating? It's just breakfast, and it's free," so I stayed.

Everyone in the store fell silent.

Zong Wen opened his mouth, wanting to say, "How dare you eat in a place like this?", but after looking at Zhang Yifan's expression, he closed his mouth again.

The man's knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone, while his son continued speaking on the screen.

"The shop owner was giving me steamed buns while telling me to do well on my exams. He said his steamed bun shop had been open for many years and many high school students got into top universities after eating his buns. He said I would have good luck on my exams too."

Then he started complaining that business was bad this year, and the new store was giving this set away for free—wasn't that just ruining their business?

He added, "He's giving them away for free, so I'll give them away for free too; consider it a good deed."

Upon hearing this, the man's eyes reddened.

It's not the red of anger, it's the red of heartache.

His lips moved as if he wanted to curse the boss, but he was afraid of interrupting his son.

"When I took the steamed buns, I thought the owner was really honest. He must be a good person to give away steamed buns for free at this time."

I also told him, "May your business prosper."

After walking a distance and taking a couple of bites, I realized something was wrong. The bun was cold, completely cold, and the filling inside had a sour taste.

I knew it was spoiled right away, so I didn't dare eat the rest and threw it all away.

But it was too late. Half an hour before the exam started, my stomach began to feel unwell. Before the exam papers were even handed out, I couldn't take it anymore. I felt dizzy and nauseous. The proctor took me to the infirmary, and then...

His voice suddenly choked, and he turned his head away, not saying anything more.

No further explanation is needed.

Twelve years of hard study were ruined by a sour steamed bun.

The man placed his phone on the table, braced his hands on the tabletop, lowered his head, and his shoulders were trembling.

Liu Guilan placed the rag on the stove, walked over, and placed a glass of warm water in front of the man.

She didn't say anything, she just pushed the cup forward a little.

The man remained silent for a long time before looking up at Zhang Rongshan.

His lips moved, and he spoke softly, but each word was spoken with great force: "Boss, I'm sorry, I wronged you."

I caused trouble at your door without understanding the situation, almost ruining your reputation and delaying your business opening.

After he finished speaking, he bent down and bowed.

Zhang Rongshan reached out and supported his shoulder, lifting him up.

"You are a father, and so am I."

When something happens to a child, a father's first reaction is to find the cause. Sometimes, in his haste, he might mistakenly look for the wrong person.

Don't apologize. Find the person who truly deserves to apologize and make them apologize.

The man straightened up, wiped his eyes hard with his sleeve, and the shame in his eyes was slowly replaced by another emotion.

Anger, this time anger that has found its right target.

The boy who brought the reporter frowned and seemed to be thinking about something after hearing details such as "flies flying on the steamer" and "the boss complaining about the new store giving away free buns."

He suddenly slapped his forehead and shouted, "I know! Wu Lao Er's steamed bun shop! It must be his!"

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Wu Lao Er's Steamed Bun Shop has been open for several years."

His house was notoriously unsanitary; the neighborhood committee had previously posted a rectification notice on it, but it was torn down and the house continued to operate.

His family used to charge normal fees for selling steamed buns, but recently they probably saw how popular your family is at giving away free steamed buns, so they got anxious and started giving them away for free too.

But can his steamed buns compare to yours?

I saw his kitchen once, and there were flies crawling all over the steamer. I'm not exaggerating; it was like a background wall.