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

The two walked side by side toward the school gate.

When they reached the school gate, Zong Wen suddenly tugged at Zhang Yifan's sleeve.

"Hey, look over there—"

At the usual spot outside the school gate, the old lady selling tea eggs had several more people gathered around her stall than usual today.

The area was packed with students in school uniforms, all craning their necks to look at the aluminum pot.

The old lady was so busy that she didn't have enough hands to handle everything. She was making change and packing the money into bags at the same time, and she kept saying, "Don't rush, don't rush, we have everything."

Zhang Yifan understood at a glance.

After that incident in the cafeteria—steel wool and bugs—who would dare eat there?

Anyone who had a few coins left ran out to buy the old lady's tea eggs.

Students who usually complain about long queues and are too lazy to wait, preferring to spend a few extra dollars to eat at the snack shop next door rather than go hungry at the school gate, all crowded here today.

"There are so many people." Zongwen stood on tiptoe and peeked into the crowd. "I was thinking of buying a couple to tide me over, but forget it, the line will stretch until afternoon classes. Let's just eat ramen instead."

The two bypassed the dense crowd and turned into the small street next to the school.

The third shop at the street corner is a Lanzhou beef noodle restaurant. The green sign with white lettering is slightly yellowed by the smoke from the cooking oil. A large pot is set up at the entrance, with boiling beef bone soup inside, and white steam billows and floats into the street.

The owner, a man in his forties from Northwest China, was making noodles at the counter. The dough was slapped and turned into thin, even noodles in a few strokes. He tossed them into the pot, let them simmer for a couple of seconds, and then scooped them out.

"Two bowls of beef ramen, one with extra meat," Zhang Yifan called out to the owner, then turned to Zong Wen and asked, "With chili?"

"Add more! Add as much as you can!"

The two found a spot against the wall to sit down. The mouths of the chili jar and vinegar bottle on the table were covered with a layer of grease, but the table was fairly clean.

Before long, two large bowls of steaming hot ramen were served. The soup was clear and the noodles were white. Thin slices of beef were laid on top of the noodles, and a layer of cilantro and garlic sprouts floated on top. Chili oil bloomed into red flowers on the soup.

Zongwen didn't stand on ceremony and picked up his chopsticks to shove them into the bowl.

He shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth, hissing from the heat, but finally a genuine smile appeared on his face—the first one he'd shown since the start of the meal.

"Let me tell you, this bowl of noodles is miles better than anything in the cafeteria! Forget the steel wool, forget the organic bugs, let Zhou Degui eat them himself!"

Zhang Yifan didn't reply, and quietly ate his noodles with his head down.

The steam from the ramen and the aroma of beef mingled together, creating a thin layer of white mist between the two people.

After finishing their noodles, the two walked back feeling warm all over.

As Zhang Yifan passed by the school gate, he noticed that the old lady selling tea eggs was packing up her stall.

The crowd had dispersed, the aluminum pot was covered, and the contents of the tricycle were almost all packed away.

The old woman, her back hunched, was carrying an empty cardboard box onto the car.

She moved slowly, taking a break after each movement, her gray hair disheveled by the evening breeze.

"Grandma, are you closing up shop?" Zhang Yifan walked over and greeted her.

He and Zongwen used to come to her stall often to buy tea eggs. Sometimes when they got out of school late, there would only be a few left on the stall, and the old lady would give them an extra one.

Throughout my senior year of high school, the vendors outside the school gate changed hands time and again, but this old lady remained the same.

The old lady looked up, and after seeing who it was, she managed a smile through her wrinkled skin.

"Oh, it's you two. You sold out quickly today, all gone early." She patted the empty pot, her tone filled with barely concealed joy. "I don't know what's going on today, so many students came. Usually, we don't sell out until 1 p.m., but today we were sold out by noon."

Zong Wen and Zhang Yifan exchanged a glance, but neither of them mentioned the cafeteria incident.

"It's good that it's sold. You should go home and rest early," Zhang Yifan said.

"Good, good, good, you should all study hard and get into good universities to bring honor to your family."

The old lady smiled and waved her hand, then slowly pushed her tricycle into the night at the street corner.

The wheels creaked and groaned as they rolled over the road, gradually fading into the distance.

Zhang Yifan stood at the school gate for a while, watching them leave, before turning around and walking towards the teaching building with Zong Wen.

After eating and drinking his fill, Zongwen's anger subsided considerably. As he went upstairs, he was still savoring the taste of that bowl of ramen: "How did that boss make those noodles? They were so chewy, a million times better than instant noodles... Next time I'll have to ask him to add more chili; this wasn't spicy enough..."

Zhang Yifan listened to his rambling, a faint smile playing on his lips, but his mind was preoccupied with other matters.

When he passed by the lottery shop after finishing his meal, he glanced at it. The shop was still open, and the red signboard was flashing.

After school this afternoon, I'll go and buy those scratch-off lottery tickets.

The two walked to the entrance of Class 9, Grade 12. Before they could even step inside, a figure rushed out and almost bumped into Zong Wen, who was walking at the front.

It's Zhao Rong.

She stood at the classroom door, hands on her hips, her chest heaving with anger. Her once pretty face was now flushed red with rage.

Her gaze bypassed Zong Wen and fixed directly on Zhang Yifan, the flames in her eyes almost burning him through.

"Zhang Yifan!"

The sharp, angry shout pierced through the classroom door, traveled down the corridor, and was heard by everyone in Class 9.

The classroom fell silent instantly. The students who were working on their problems all looked up and turned their gazes toward the door.

"You still have the nerve to come back!" Zhao Rong took a step forward, pointed her finger at Zhang Yifan's nose, and shouted so loudly that the next class could hear her, "Don't you have any idea why Wanqing fainted on the playground today? It's all your fault!"

Zhang Yifan stood still, calmly looking at the finger she pointed at.

It was less than ten centimeters from the tip of his nose, and his nails were painted with a light pink nail polish, showing that they were quite well-maintained.

He neither dodged nor retreated.

"What did you say?" His voice was neither loud nor soft, without any emotional fluctuation.

Zhao Rong was even more annoyed by his reaction.

In her script, Zhang Yifan should feel guilty, panicked, and stammer as he tries to explain.

But he stood there, his face completely expressionless, as if watching a fly buzzing around on a windowpane.

I said—

Zhao Rong's voice rose another notch, each word sounding as if she were gritting her teeth and squeezing it out.

"Wanqing fainted today, all because of you!"

"You used to bring her breakfast every day, but today you suddenly stopped. How can she endure being hungry? Do you know how severe her low blood sugar is? Under that blazing sun, running for so long, how can she possibly cope?"

"Zhang Yifan, if anything happens to her, can you take responsibility?"