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

Zhao Rong lowered her head, the corners of her mouth twitched up briefly, and then quickly suppressed them.

She reached into the drawer of the desk, found her phone, and typed blindly on the screen, sending two words to the WeChat account labeled "Tiger Brother".

Get it done.

After sending the message, she nervously shoved her phone screen into the desk drawer and glanced at Lin Wanqing.

Lin Wanqing was looking down, twisting the hem of her school uniform, her gaze fixed, her lips moving slightly as if she were whispering something to herself, completely unaware of her earlier actions.

Zhao Rong breathed a sigh of relief, quietly slipped her phone back into her pocket, then put on a concerned expression and leaned closer to whisper, "Don't be nervous, you'll know when we meet at noon. My cousin is a really nice guy."

The billiard hall was filled with smoke, and heavy metal rock music was blasting from a cheap sound system. The ceiling fan overhead was missing a blade and creaked as it turned.

A group of people were gathered around the pool table in the corner, all with bruises on their faces, some with bandages on their arms, and others with band-aids on their chins.

Several batons that hadn't been put away yet were scattered on the ground, one of which was bent over and thrown in the corner.

Tiger put a cigarette in his mouth, leaned over the billiard table, rubbed the cue stick between his fingers, aimed for a long time, and then threw it out.

The white ball flew off the table and bounced on the ground, hitting the younger brother next to him whose foot had just been put in a cast.

The younger brother jumped back a step, wincing in pain but not daring to make a sound. He could only pick up the white ball from the ground and respectfully put it back on the table.

Another henchman, rubbing his still-bruised cheek, leaned closer and cautiously spoke:

"Tiger, are we really just going to let this go? That kid took on a dozen of us. If word gets out, how are we supposed to survive around here? How about we ambush him again after school, with more guys and a few solid cigarettes..."

"What's the rush?"

Tiger took the cigarette out of his mouth, tapped the ash on the edge of the table, squinted and exhaled a puff of smoke, then picked up the phone on the table and waved it.

"See that? That's what you call a twist of fate. I'll treat you to something nice at noon to get rid of the bad luck of the past two days."

He turned his phone screen towards his underlings; it showed a message from Zhao Rong.

A few henchmen came over and took a look. They were stunned at first, and then burst into lewd laughter.

The henchman with the sling on his arm laughed so hard that he pulled at his wound, wincing in pain, but still saying, "Brother Tiger, you're really something, you even managed this..."

"Nonsense." Tiger put the cigarette back in his mouth, slung the golf club over his shoulder, and said, "I've been in this business for so many years, and all I've relied on is my brain."

Lin Wanqing spent the entire morning in a state of anxiety.

The teacher's voice seemed to be muffled by a layer of water, reaching her ears in a blurry way. She didn't copy any of the formulas written on the blackboard.

Her fingers kept picking at the edge of the table, and her palms were covered in sweat.

As soon as the bell rang and before the teacher had even left the classroom, Zhao Rong took her hand.

"Let's go, while there are fewer people now."

Lin Wanqing was dragged by her towards the school gate. They walked very fast, passing through the street at the school gate and turning into two alleys. The further they walked, the fewer shops there were and the fewer pedestrians there were.

When Lin Wanqing saw the dirty sign of the billiard hall, she stopped abruptly as if her feet were nailed to the ground.

She broke free from Zhao Rong's grasp, took a half-step back, and said in a thin, trembling voice, "Rongrong, maybe... maybe we should just forget about it. I don't think this is a good idea, and..."

Zhao Rong turned around, looked at her, and neither pulled her nor urged her.

She took Lin Wanqing's hand, her tone gentle and understanding:

"Wanqing, the decision is yours, and whatever you decide, as your best friend, I will support you. But since you're already here, and your cousin is waiting, isn't it a bit impolite to leave without even saying hello? Let's just go in, say hello, and leave right away, okay?"

Lin Wanqing looked into Zhao Rong's sincere eyes and hesitated for a long time.

Rongrong was the only person she could confide in at school. No matter what she did, Rongrong would always stand by her side.

Thinking about it, Rongrong's words made sense. Since we were already here, it would be impolite not to say hello.

It's just a greeting, it won't hurt you.

She gritted her teeth, nodded, and followed Zhao Rong into the room.

Across the street, in front of a snack shop, Zongwen held a bowl of hot and sour noodles, his mouth wide open enough to fit a whole tea egg.

He watched as the two girls pushed open the billiard hall door one after the other, nearly choking on his powder. He swallowed hard, then pointed in that direction with his chopsticks:

"Hey, Yifan, look, aren't those Zhao Rong and Lin Wanqing? What are they doing in this billiard hall? There's a gang of thugs who hang out there all year round, the same group Peng Kaifei called to ambush you."

Zhang Yifan kept his head down, eating his fried noodles, and didn't reply.

Zong Wen poked his elbow with his chopsticks and leaned closer with a grin: "Hey, your ex-goddess is in jail, aren't you worried? What if she runs into some bad guys..."

Zhang Yifan rolled his eyes at him, then put the last bite of fried noodles into his mouth: "What does this have to do with me?"

The first floor of the billiard hall was filled with an overwhelming smell of secondhand smoke. Lin Wanqing frowned as soon as she entered, and waved her hand in front of her nose, but the smell of smoke mixed with beer and cheap air freshener still wafted into her nostrils.

A few young men with dyed hair of various colors surrounded a few crooked billiard tables, looking at people as if they were prey.

She wanted to turn around and leave, but Zhao Rong had already grabbed her wrist and led her through the lobby to the second floor.

The stairs were narrow and steep, creaking as you stepped on them.

Halfway there, Lin Wanqing turned back and glanced at the door on the first floor.

She hesitated for a moment, then her steps suddenly slowed down. She felt something stuck in her throat, something she couldn't swallow or spit out.

But Zhao Rong's hand gripped her wrist like a vise, and she couldn't stop.

The second floor was even more cramped than the first floor. A worn-out sofa sat in the middle, and the coffee table was piled with beer cans and ashtrays. The ashtrays were filled with cigarette butts, some of which were still emitting wisps of smoke.

In the corner stood a pool table, where a few underlings were idly poking at the white ball with their cues. When they saw someone approaching, they stopped moving their cues.

The moment the two women walked in, the entire second floor fell silent.

All eyes turned and fell on them.

Someone whistled, someone tapped the ground with their golf club, and someone sat up straight on the sofa like a wildcat that had smelled fish.

Those gazes—some mocking, some curious, some blatantly undisguised—hung like hooks around Lin Wanqing.

Tiger leaned back on the sofa in the middle, legs crossed, his arm wrapped in bandages, but it didn't affect his comfort at all.

His gaze traveled from Lin Wanqing's ankles upwards, down her calves, down her waist, and finally settled on her face, as if he wanted to dissect her and examine her closely.