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

Zhang Yifan sat in his seat, twirling a pen in his hand, surrounded by cheers and the sound of people banging on the table.

Zong Wen was still gesturing wildly as he recounted the morning's battle to a few boys in the back row. When he got to the exciting parts, his spittle almost flew into Zhang Yifan's thermos.

To be honest, it feels pretty good.

He's stood on stage before.

When he ranked first in his grade in his first year of high school, the school asked him to share his learning experience during the flag-raising ceremony.

More than two thousand students stood on the playground. He read from his script for fifteen minutes. Some students yawned, while others memorized vocabulary words. After he finished saying "Thank you, everyone," the applause was sparse, barely more than swatting a mosquito.

That was the first and only time in his life that he served as a "student representative," and he understood it from then on.

Just because someone lets you stand up doesn't mean they actually want to hear what you have to say.

But things are different now.

The chatter around his desk was deafening. Some patted him on the shoulder and called him "Brother Fan," while others ran across several rows of desks to give him a high-five. Even classmates who usually had nothing to do with him squeezed over to invite him to play ball together sometime.

It wasn't because he was in the top three of his grade, nor because he was a promising candidate for Tsinghua or Peking University in the eyes of his homeroom teacher, but because he did something that everyone wanted to do but no one dared to do.

This feeling is much better than being number one in the grade.

Lin Wanqing stood up from her seat.

She straightened her school uniform collar, tucked her hair that fell in front of her shoulders behind her ears, and put on a just-right smile as she walked towards the last row.

She had prepared her opening line: "Congratulations on making it big today. I've always known you're very talented. Can we find some time to talk about what happened before?"

Your tone should be sincere, your eyes should be gentle, and you should maintain a distance that allows him to smell the scent of her shampoo without being too overtly affectionate.

Before she even reached the third row, the front door of the classroom was suddenly pushed open.

The door slammed against the wall twice with a loud bang, silencing the entire classroom.

Peng Kaifei stood at the door. Today, he had changed out of the trendy hoodie he wore yesterday and was wearing a black functional jacket with the zipper pulled all the way up to his chin. He was still wearing those limited edition sneakers.

His gaze pierced through the lingering smell of gunpowder in the room, past the classmates surrounding Zhang Yifan, and past Lin Wanqing, who was standing in the middle of the aisle and hadn't yet reached the last row. It was fixed on Zhang Yifan like a nail.

"Zhang Yifan!"

Peng Kaifei strode over, each step making a heavy, loud sound on the paving stones.

He roughly pushed aside several boys standing in the aisle. One of them almost bumped into the corner of a table, but after seeing that it was Peng Kaifei, he swallowed the swear words that were about to come out.

He rushed to Zhang Yifan's desk and slammed his hands on the surface, causing the bread bag that Zong Wen hadn't had time to put away to roll off the desk.

His cheeks were clenched so tightly they were bulging, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot.

He came to Zhang Yifan demanding an explanation after hearing that Zhang Yifan had led a group of people to smash up the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was vandalized, and his daily private meals were no longer available; this was what truly offended him.

But his hand did not leave the table.

He really wanted to grab Zhang Yifan by the collar; the muscles in his arms were tense. But the image of Zhang Yifan single-handedly defeating a group of people in the alley last night made him rational.

His fingers clenched on the table twice, but he didn't lift them up.

"You incited the students to smash up the cafeteria?"

Zhang Yifan looked up, the pen still twirling in his hand, his expression barely changing.

He just looked at Peng Kaifei calmly, as if he were watching a moth that had rushed into the classroom and fluttered its wings.

"So what?"

Peng Kaifei felt a tightness in his throat as these four words choked him up.

Zhang Yifan offered no explanation or excuse.

This attitude is more provocative than any words.

Peng Kaifei originally thought that after what happened last night, this bookworm would restrain himself a bit.

But the person in front of him not only didn't restrain himself, but looked at him with an air of superiority, as if he wasn't even a loser like the one who blocked people last night.

His reason was completely extinguished at that moment.

"You, a poor student, led a bunch of poor students to smash up the cafeteria?"

His voice trembled with anger, and spittle splattered onto the unfinished exam paper Zhang Yifan was writing on the table.

"You're all smug now that Zhou Degui's been arrested, aren't you? Let me tell you, so what if the food in the cafeteria is bad? If you don't eat it, plenty of others will! That's all you've got—you're all jealous of whoever has money, and you're always envious of whoever's doing well. A bunch of poor bastards..."

"Say it again?"

A voice came from the back row.

He was the chemistry class representative, who usually blushed even when answering questions. He stood up and looked coldly at Peng Kaifei.

"What did you just say? A poor student?"

"We're poor, and we're suffering because we eat in the cafeteria?"

Another boy slammed his textbook on the table.

"Peng Kaifei, you think you're so great just because you have a few bucks! You're lucky the cafeteria gives you special treatment, what business is it of yours if we eat rotten vegetables! But you're suddenly defending your master, Zhou Degui is your own father, and you're still speaking up for him!"

"We're poor, so what! Does being poor mean we can't smash up the cafeteria? Does being poor mean we deserve to eat steel wool and bugs? You, Peng Kaifei, get special treatment every day, have you ever eaten the cafeteria food? Do you know what rotten vegetable leaves taste like? You know nothing and yet you come in and call us poor bastards. What do you have besides a rich dad?!"

"Peng Kaifei, listen up! That money belongs to your dad, not you! What else can you do besides spend money? Have you ever passed an exam? How many places have you won in the long jump? You only know how to curse with the word 'poor bastard,' what else do you have to offer!"

Peng Kaifei was forced back two steps by this barrage of insults. He wanted to curse back, but his voice was drowned out by the roars of dozens of people.

He usually acts arrogantly at school, and no one has ever dared to talk back to him like that.

It's not because he's good at fighting, it's because his dad is rich.

But now this group of people clearly doesn't care whether his father has money or not.

"You...you bunch..."

"What about us? Tell me!"

Dozens of senior high school students took a step forward in unison, causing the desks to creak as they were pushed.

Peng Kaifei instinctively stepped back, his heel hitting the edge of the podium, and he swayed, almost falling over.

Just then, a foot wearing an old sneaker kicked him precisely in the back of the knee from behind.

Peng Kaifei's knees buckled forward uncontrollably, his center of gravity collapsed instantly, and he fell forward with a thud, kneeling on the classroom's tiled floor in front of a group of blue and white school uniforms that he had just been cursing as "poor bastards".

The zipper of the black jacket was ripped open halfway by inertia, revealing a trendy T-shirt with a large logo printed on it.

The classroom was silent for a full three seconds.

Then Zongwen was the first to laugh out loud, followed by the second and the third, and the whole classroom burst into laughter.

"He's kneeling! He's really kneeling! Young Master Peng is kneeling before us!"

"Weren't you so arrogant just now? Why are you kneeling down? Are your knees ashamed of you?"

Peng Kaifei knelt on the ground, his face turning from deathly pale to a deep liver color, looking back with a mixture of shame and anger.

Zhang Yifan stood behind him, pulled back the foot wearing the old sneaker, and looked down at him with the same expression as when he said "So what?"

Calm, indifferent, as if watching a passerby who has accidentally fallen.

"My legs are numb from standing all this time, let's kneel down and talk."