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

The entire evening study session was spent in an eerie atmosphere.

It's eerie because no one dares to speak loudly anymore.

Occasionally, someone would take the opportunity to throw away trash or hand in homework to pass by the last row, their eyes involuntarily glancing at Zhang Yifan before quickly looking away.

For the first time ever, the math class representative didn't rush him when collecting homework. He gently placed the homework on the corner of the table and left, his movements as light as if he were handling a fragile item.

Zhao Rong lay on the table, scribbling on the notebook with a pen. She scribbled so hard that she tore several pages. She mumbled something under her breath, but her voice was so low that even Lin Wanqing next to her couldn't hear her.

Lin Wanqing stopped pretending to be weak and sat upright in her seat with an English book open in front of her, but she hadn't turned the page since evening self-study began.

Every few minutes, her gaze would uncontrollably drift towards the last row, and each time she saw the same scene.

Zhang Yifan was working on his problem with his head down. His profile was clearly defined under the fluorescent light, and he was as calm as if nothing had happened.

This calm made her uneasy.

She used to think Zhang Yifan was dull and boring, but now that calm profile of his suddenly became unfathomable in her eyes.

What is he thinking? Why is he so calm? Does he really not care about her anymore, or is he brewing some bigger storm?

She couldn't figure it out.

But she knew one thing: if someone had told her before that one day she would feel uneasy because of Zhang Yifan's indifference, she would have thought that person was crazy.

But now she is indeed very restless.

It was already completely dark outside the window, and the streetlights outside the teaching building cast a dim yellow light on the road in front of the school gate.

The countdown board above the blackboard hung quietly under the fluorescent lights, indicating that there were still thirty-six days until the college entrance examination.

The bell finally rang, signaling the end of get out of class.

The atmosphere in the classroom instantly relaxed, with the sounds of desks and chairs being dragged and backpacks being zipped up filling the air.

But many people didn't rush out as usual; instead, they slowly packed their things, their eyes glancing intentionally or unintentionally toward the last row.

They still remember Peng Kaifei's words that afternoon, "Don't leave after evening self-study." Now that get out of class is over, how will Zhang Yifan respond?

Zhang Yifan, on the other hand, was unhurried. He folded the test paper and put it in his textbook, put the pen cap on, and tightened the thermos.

Then he stood up, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and walked toward the door.

He walked at a steady pace, just like he usually does when he goes home from school. He even picked up the blackboard eraser and put it back in the chalk tray as he passed the teacher's podium.

People were coming and going in the corridor. As soon as Zhang Yifan stepped out of the classroom, he saw Peng Kaifei leaning against the wall at the end of the corridor.

He had already changed into the long jump team's training jacket, the zipper open, revealing a trendy T-shirt underneath. His arms were crossed over his chest, and a smug, confident smile played on his lips.

Two teammates from the long jump team were with him, one of whom was the one who helped him out of the classroom that afternoon. When he saw Zhang Yifan come out, he subconsciously took half a step back.

"You've got guts, actually daring to come out." Peng Kaifei straightened up, chin slightly raised. "Come with me."

Zhang Yifan glanced at him, his gaze not like that of a thug leader blocking someone's way, but more like that of a lackey leading the way: "Lead the way."

Peng Kaifei was taken aback by his look.

His envisioned scenario was that Zhang Yifan would either beg for mercy with weak legs or be stubborn but unsteady on his feet.

As a result, the person was not afraid at all, but instead had an expression that said, "I've been waiting all night, why are you only coming now?"

Who is it for?

He gritted his teeth, and with a cold laugh, forced out, "Fine, still trying to act tough now? Let's see if you can still pull it off when we get there. A dozen or so of my brothers are waiting for you over there in the alley."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards the stairwell.

Zhang Yifan followed behind him.

Zong Wen rushed out of the classroom, his backpack still dangling from his arm, and chased after Zhang Yifan to the end of the corridor, grabbing his sleeve.

"Yifan! You're going alone? No way, I'm going with you! Peng Kaifei called over a dozen people, they might really attack if you go alone! I've already called 110, if things get bad, I'll immediately—"

Zhang Yifan turned around, patted his shoulder, and said in the exact same tone as when he told him to "rest assured" that afternoon: "No need, I can handle it myself. Go home early, don't keep your mom waiting too long."

"But……"

"No buts, I'm leaving. See you tomorrow." With that, she let go of his hand and went down the stairs without looking back.

Zong Wen stood in the corridor, watching Zhang Yifan's back and Peng Kaifei disappear into the shadows of the stairwell one after the other, his heart pounding in his throat.

He gripped his phone, his thumb hovering over the dial button on the 110 dialing screen three times, almost pressing it each time, but he managed to hold back.

He believed in Zhang Yifan, but that belief was one thing, and watching his brother follow a dozen thugs into an alley without surveillance cameras was another.

He paced anxiously in the corridor twice, then stomped his foot and rushed downstairs.

He said he would let Zhang Yifan go alone, but his feet wouldn't obey him at all.

As he ran down the stairs, he bumped into Fu Kai, who had just come out of his office, clutching his lesson plans, and was about to go back to lock the door.

Fu Kai was so bumped that he almost dropped his lesson plan. The tea in his thermos sloshed around and spilled a few drops onto the "Class Teacher Quantitative Assessment Form" that the school had just distributed.

"Zongwen? Why are you running? Who's chasing you?"

Fu Kai adjusted his glasses, looking displeased.

But after seeing the expression on Zong Wen's face, his displeasure immediately turned into vigilance.

This boy, who is usually cheerful and witty with everyone, was now devoid of his usual playful demeanor; his eyes were filled with anxiety.

"Teacher Fu," Zong Wen gasped for breath, "Peng Kaifei called over a dozen thugs from outside the school to ambush Zhang Yifan in the alley near the school gate! Zhang Yifan went alone, and I—"

Fu Kai's face instantly darkened.

"A dozen or so people? Zhang Yifan alone?"

He shoved the lesson plan into Zong Wen's arms, placed the thermos on the windowsill, and rolled up his sleeves.

"Which alley is it in? Lead the way! Let's go!"

Zong Wen, holding the lesson plan, paused for a second: "Teacher, the lesson plan—"

"Is the lesson plan more important than human lives? Lead the way!"

Fu Kai's voice boomed in the empty corridor, and without saying a word, he followed Zong Wen and ran wildly toward the school gate.

The two of them ran until they were out of breath. Zongwen thought to himself as he ran: Teacher Fu usually looks so gentle and mild-mannered, but how come he runs faster than the PE teacher?

There are no streetlights in the alley near the school gate; only the occasional light from car headlights on the distant road sweeps across the space.

At the end of the alley stood a group of people, at least a dozen or so. Their clothes and appearance clearly indicated they were not students from the school. Several of them had cigarettes in their mouths, which flickered in the night.

They were all carrying batons, tapping their thighs intermittently, the metal occasionally reflecting a cold light in the night.