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

The afternoon classes went by in a flash.

The math teacher explained a variation of the last challenging problem, the Chinese teacher distributed a new memorization outline, and the English teacher emphasized the answering techniques for cloze tests again.

Zhang Yifan remained focused throughout, his pen scribbling away on his notebook, occasionally flipping through a page of the test paper or unscrewing his thermos to take a sip of water.

Zong Wen yawned from time to time, and several times he tried to talk to him, but Zong Wen stopped him with his eyes.

Lin Wanqing, who was sitting in the third row, didn't hear a single word.

The textbook in front of her was open, but the page number hadn't changed since the start of the class.

She had no idea what the English teacher had said; her mind was filled with images from lunchtime.

Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi, the school's undisputed goddess and the top student in the grade, who had never given any boy a second glance, actually came to Class 9 to challenge Zhang Yifan.

It's not a love letter, it's a declaration of war.

But the first reaction of everyone in the class when they saw Shen Zhiyi walk in was that she had come to deliver a love letter.

Lin Wanqing had the same reaction at the time.

Her gaze passed over the heads of the students in the front row and landed on the last row by the window.

Zhang Yifan was working on a problem with his head down, his face turned to her, his expression focused and calm.

In the past, when he was doing his homework, he would look up at her every few minutes. She would pretend not to notice and then enjoy the feeling of being watched out of the corner of her eye.

He doesn't watch it anymore.

He hadn't looked in her direction even once all day.

Lin Wanqing's fingers, gripping the pen, turned slightly white.

In the morning, she confidently told Zhao Rong that she would leave him hanging for three days, and at noon she still thought that Zhang Yifan was just playing hard to get.

Now her confidence is crumbling little by little.

Will he really stop pursuing her?

Meanwhile, Zhang Yifan, sitting in the last row, was working on the last big question on his math test.

After completing the last step, he wrote down the answer in the answer area and then looked up at the countdown on the blackboard.

There are 36 days left until the college entrance examination.

He turned his head and glanced out the window. The weather was nice, and the sun was shining brightly.

Then he nudged Zongwen, who was already so sleepy that his eyelids were drooping, with his elbow.

"Come with me after class."

"Huh?" Zongwen groggily looked up. "Where to?"

"Lottery shop."

"What?"

"Don't ask questions, just follow me."

As soon as the bell rang, Zhang Yifan shoved the test paper into his drawer, grabbed Zong Wen who was still in a daze, and ran out.

His movements were so fast that Zongwen was pulled off balance and almost fell over with his schoolbag. He shouted, "Wait, wait, why are you running so fast? The lottery shop isn't going to grow legs and run away."

But Zhang Yifan didn't let go at all, dragging him all the way out of the school gate.

Zong Wen was pulled along for a full kilometer, leaving him breathless and feeling that his lung capacity was being put to an unprecedented test.

When the two stopped in front of the lottery shop, Zong Wen was bent over and panting for a while before he straightened up.

The lottery shop near the school has a small storefront, and the red signboard is somewhat faded. There is also a faded congratulatory notice posted at the entrance, which states that a certain lottery player won a certain amount of money on a certain date.

The glass door was covered with lottery result charts, the dense numbers and lines making it difficult to see.

"no,"

Zong Wen caught his breath and looked at Zhang Yifan speechlessly.

"Why didn't we go eat first? You dragged me hundreds of meters just to get here? When did you start researching this?"

"I see others buying it often, so I'll try my luck too."

"Come on,"

Zong Wen waved his hand, speaking with the air of someone who had been through it all.

"Let me tell you, winning this isn't something you can just get by luck. Countless veteran lottery players have bought tickets their whole lives and never even seen a third prize. Don't waste your money; your pocket money is still—"

Before he could finish speaking, the door to the lottery shop was pushed open from the inside.

The boss was a middle-aged man in his fifties, bald, wearing a faded red vest with the logo of the welfare lottery printed on it.

He had obviously heard the commotion outside the door, and when he peeked out and saw two high school students in school uniforms standing at the door, a warm smile, typical of a businessman, immediately spread across his face.

"Hey, you two, school's out? Want to come in and take a look? Scratch-off tickets, lottery tickets, super lottery tickets—we have them all! Scratch-offs are ten yuan a ticket, and the top prize is 300,000 yuan!"

When Zhang Yifan heard "ten yuan a ticket, with a maximum prize of 300,000 yuan," his eyes lit up.

It is it.

"Boss, give me a scratch card."

The shop owner chuckled and led him into the store: "Come on, come on, see which one you want? We have the Gemstone Series, the Good Luck Series, the Fortune Series..."

"I'll take the ten-dollar bet, the one with the chance to win 300,000, I'm sure I'll win!"

Zhang Yifan spoke with great certainty, as if stating a fact that had already been established.

Zongwen, who was standing next to him, covered his face because he couldn't bear to look.

Just then, a sneer, slurred from a thick, smoky voice, came from inside the shop.

"Oh."

A middle-aged man in dark blue overalls stood up from a plastic stool in the store.

He looked to be in his forties or fifties, with messy hair, paint splattered on his work clothes, a freshly bought lottery ticket clutched in his hand, and a smug smile playing on his lips.

He had been squatting in this lottery shop for more than ten years, buying tickets every single time. He knew all the number trend charts by heart. Although he had never won a big prize, he felt that, based on seniority, he was the most qualified person on the street to talk about the lottery.

"Students these days have quite the big mouths."

"How many times have you bought lottery tickets? Do you know how many numbers are in the red balls of the Double Color Ball lottery? Do you understand how to play scratch-off tickets? And you're guaranteed to win?"

"I've been buying lottery tickets for over ten years, and I study the number charts more thoroughly than my son studies his textbooks. I wouldn't dare say I'm guaranteed to win."

"You're just a little kid, and you keep saying things like 'I'm sure to win the lottery today.' Do you think your dad's a god of wealth?"

"Young people shouldn't be so unrealistic. Be more down-to-earth and stop daydreaming all the time. You should be studying hard at your age, not burning money at the lottery shop."

This person started talking like a machine gun, getting more and more excited as he spoke, until the end he sounded like an elder lecturing a junior, his tone full of superiority.

Zong Wen originally advised Zhang Yifan not to buy it, but upon hearing this, he immediately became unhappy.

Although he felt it was impossible for Zhang Yifan to win 300,000 yuan in one go, he couldn't tolerate outsiders criticizing his brother in front of him.

"Uncle," Zong Wen stood in front of Zhang Yifan, "If my brother says he can win, then he can win. You've been betting for over ten years and haven't won. That's just bad luck. Don't use your standards to judge others."

"Oh dear," the middle-aged man chuckled, annoyed by his words. "Fine, fine, young man, you have guts. Then tell me, what if you don't win?"