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

Zhang Yifan didn't go to school today.

On a weekend morning, he slept until eight o'clock, and when he opened his eyes, the sunlight was already shining in through the gaps in the curtains.

He rolled over, picked up his phone to check the time, and suddenly noticed a reminder on the calendar: "Villa handover".

He casually marked this notification when the system task was completed.

His personal butler called him that same day to congratulate him on becoming a homeowner in Yujingyuan and to ask when it would be convenient for him to complete the handover procedures.

He was busy studying at the time and casually said he would do it another day. The butler, still respectful, said he would be waiting anytime and that he could just call ahead.

Yujing Garden.

After hanging up the phone, he specifically looked up the neighborhood. It was one of the most upscale villa areas in the city, with a low occupancy rate but notoriously strict security.

When it opened a few years ago, the price per unit was said to have skyrocketed, and only the very wealthy and powerful could afford to live there.

He stared at the property page on his phone screen for a while, then slammed his phone down on the table and continued working on his practice questions.

But today is different.

It's the weekend, and my parents went to the store early this morning to finish up the renovations. The house is quiet and peaceful.

After finishing a set of science practice papers and checking the answers, he suddenly felt a little restless.

The system says that he is 68 years old and lives in a partitioned room with a monthly rent of 300 yuan. He is not even 19 years old yet, but he already owns a villa.

I have to go and see it, otherwise I won't have any material to brag about.

He changed into clean clothes, went out, and hailed a taxi.

"Master, to Yujing Garden."

The driver was a middle-aged man in his forties, with a receding hairline, and his arm was resting on the car window.

He was clearly taken aback when he heard the destination, and looked him up and down several times in the rearview mirror.

Zhang Yifan could read what he didn't say from that look:

This person went to Yujing Garden? What kind of place is Yujing Garden? Is it a place that ordinary people can go to?

Once the car was on the main road, the driver couldn't resist anymore; he turned the steering wheel while glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

"Young man, are you going to visit your classmates?"

Sure, having a rich second-generation classmate like that, you should definitely get along well with him.

Let me tell you, the kids from families like that could easily feed an ordinary person for a lifetime just by letting a little bit of their money slip through their fingers.

Uncle has been driving a taxi for so many years, and he's driven a lot of rich people. Those who can live in Yujingyuan are not just ordinary rich, they are really rich.

Do you know how much the property management fee is per square meter in that community? It's higher than our monthly salary.

If you have a classmate like this, don't be polite with them. Eat and drink with them as you please. It's a waste not to take advantage of this relationship; they don't care about a pittance anyway.

Zhang Yifan leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Why can't I be the one living there?"

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, his expression as if he had heard a really bad joke.

He pursed his lips slightly and let out a very soft hum through his nose:

"Young man, it's not that I look down on you, but look at yourself in the mirror. You look like a student. You even have to use the meter when you take a taxi. Where do you live?"

Do you know who lives there? You'd be embarrassed to drive in from that gate unless you have a car worth millions.

"If you lived there, my beat-up taxi could be used as a wedding car."

Zhang Yifan looked down at his outfit: a slightly faded T-shirt, casual pants bought from a roadside stall, and a pair of old sneakers he'd worn for almost two years.

They certainly don't seem like the kind of people who can live in Yujingyuan.

Zhang Yifan couldn't help but laugh and stopped arguing with the driver: "Alright, alright, I'm going to see a classmate. Uncle, you have a sharp eye."

"That's right."

The driver nodded in satisfaction, turned the steering wheel, and veered onto the side road.

"It's not shameful for young people to be honest."

Let me tell you, everyone's fate is different.

Some people are born into Yujingyuan, while others never even get to enter the gates of Yujingyuan in their entire lives.

However, you don't need to underestimate yourself. Your classmate lives in Yujingyuan. The fact that you can be his classmate shows that you are not bad either.

"If your son gets into a good university and finds a good job in the future, maybe he can live there too."

Zhang Yifan leaned back in his seat, watching the street scene receding outside the window, and didn't say anything more.

The car slowly came to a stop in front of the Yujingyuan gate.

The driver pressed the meter, turned around and said to Zhang Yifan:

"We're here. This is the most I can take you. If you go any further, the security guards will chase you away."

Last time, a delivery guy tried to come in through the main entrance, and they just dragged him out. That security guard was really fierce.

Zhang Yifan paid the fare and got out of the car.

Just as I stood still and before I could even close the car door, a loud and forceful shout came from the direction of the guard post.

"Hey! What kind of junk car is parked here? Get out of here! Don't you even know where you are?!"

A young security guard strode over, his leather shoes clicking on the cement floor, his hat pulled low, and his expression as if someone owed him millions.

He walked up to the taxi and slapped the hood several times with such force that the paint on the front of the car trembled.

"Hurry up! Is this the kind of place where any car can block the main entrance? Are you going to take responsibility for delaying residents' cars from getting in and out?!"

The driver rolled down the window, smiled apologetically, and said, "I'll be off right away, I've dropped someone off..."

"Taking someone away? Take them to the side gate! Your beat-up taxi is blocking the way! Hurry up, stop dawdling, and get the hell out of here!"

As the security guard spoke, he slammed his hand on the hood again, this time louder than before, causing the water cup on the driver's dashboard to vibrate.

The driver's smile finally crumbled.

He stopped smiling, rolled down the car window most of the way, stuck half his head out, and his voice hardened:

"Hey bro, have you taken enough pictures?"

My car is old, but I parked it properly on the side of the road to drop someone off. It was only a two-minute ride, and I didn't block anyone's way.

You're just a security guard, not a resident here, what are you acting so arrogantly about?

You can take pictures of my car, or you can call it a wreck.

But please speak properly, don't keep telling me to get lost, I don't owe you any money.

"What did you say?"

The security guard, his sore spot touched, blushed instantly, took a step forward, and nearly poked his finger into the car window.

"Say that again? You think a beat-up taxi driver has the nerve to yell at me? You think I can make sure you can't get any fares in this area with just one phone call?"

"Go ahead and call, call me now. I want to see how much power a security guard has to make a taxi company stop me from picking up passengers. Go ahead and call, I'm waiting."

The driver was so angry he laughed. He turned off the engine, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his seat.

"you--"

The security guard was speechless. He didn't actually have the ability, but he just couldn't swallow his anger.

Then even harsher words came out all at once, such as "stinky sports car owner," "a poor wretch," and "shouldn't he take a piss and look at himself in the mirror to see who he is?"

His voice grew louder and louder, and his spittle almost flew onto the driver's face.

Zhang Yifan had already taken two steps when he heard a series of vile insults behind him and stopped in his tracks.

He turned around, walked to the guard post, stood still, and spoke in a low but clear voice:

"He was just dropping someone off and stopped for two minutes. Did you have to yell at him like that? If you don't like the car, just let him go. Why humiliate him like this?"

The security guard turned his head and sized Zhang Yifan up and down with a sidelong glance.

Old T-shirt, old pants, old sneakers—he looks like a kid from an ordinary family.

He curled his lip downwards, adding another layer of disdain to his tone:

"What's it to you, little brat? You're here to play with your classmates, aren't you?"

Find a classmate to go through the side door, don't stand at the main entrance, it's an eyesore.

I'm warning you, mind your own business! Get out of here and don't interfere with my work.

"I'm the homeowner," Zhang Yifan said calmly, looking him in the eye. "What's your employee number? I'm going to file a complaint about your service."

The security guard was taken aback for a moment, then laughed.

It wasn't a polite laugh; it was the kind of snorting laughter that comes out of your nose after hearing the funniest joke of the year.

"You're a homeowner? You? Someone as poor as you is a homeowner? Then tell me, which building do you live in?"

"Number One".

"Number One?!"

The security guard laughed even louder, bending over with laughter.

Do you know what Villa No. 1 means?

That was the largest and most expensive building in the entire Yujingyuan complex. It had been vacant for two years and had only been sold a few days ago!

Do you know who the owner of Villa Number One is? They're a very important person, someone even our manager has to personally come out to greet!

You? A poor kid who got out of a beat-up Jetta, dressed in cheap clothes, and you tell me you're the owner of Villa No. 1?

If you were the homeowner, I would be the developer!

He spoke with great confidence.

Because he really knew the residents of the community, and he remembered every single face.

More importantly, the manager held a meeting specifically this morning.

The owner of Villa No. 1 was coming to complete the handover, so everyone was on high alert and thoroughly cleaned the guard post inside and out, even repainting the gate.

Villa No. 1 is the largest and most expensive villa in the entire Royal Garden.

The person who could buy that building must be a big shot who arrived in a Rolls-Royce.

Therefore, he was particularly rude to all random vehicles that approached the gate.

If some clueless rickety car were to block the way of the important person, and the manager were to blame him, he couldn't bear the consequences.

As for the student in front of me wearing an old T-shirt and getting out of a shabby taxi, how could he possibly be the owner?

It couldn't possibly be that important person from Villa No. 1.

It's probably a classmate of one of the homeowners' children, who came to play.

He'd seen plenty of people like that. Every month, several poor students would try to freeload at Yujingyuan, but he'd always caught them at the gate.

"prove."

The security guard stretched his hand out in front of him, palm up, and beckoned to Zhang Yifan with his finger.

"You say you're the homeowner? Fine, show me your door certificate, homeowner card, or purchase contract—anything you like."

"If you can't produce it, don't pretend to be a big shot here."

[Waaaaah, my darlings, please give me some encouragement to update!]