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

The security guard stood there, his legs trembling.

His lips moved several times, and a few indistinct syllables came out of his throat, but in the end he couldn't utter a single word.

He thought that Shen Zhiyi would at most say a few words of justice for his classmate, and that he would just smile apologetically and the matter would be over.

As a result, Shen Zhiyi didn't even give him a chance to smile apologetically, skipping over his attempt to smooth things over and telling him to call the manager.

He slowly pulled out his phone again, tapping the screen repeatedly, wishing the phone would never be able to be reached.

The property manager arrived quickly.

They didn't come on foot, they came on foot.

A middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a dark blue suit, with a slightly protruding belly, whose suit hem bounced as he ran.

He was enjoying the air conditioning in his office when he received the call from the security guard. He was already annoyed when he heard that someone was blocking the door and refusing to leave, afraid of blocking the way of the resident of unit number one.

Today was a big day for the owner of Villa No. 1 to come and complete the handover. He cleaned the guard post inside and out early in the morning and even repainted the gate. But then someone caused trouble at the gate.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie and rushed to the gate, where he could see the taxi still parked.

A surge of anger welled up inside me: What kind of security guard is this? He can't even get rid of a taxi!

Then he saw Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi stood beside the guard post, arms crossed, her face cold and stern. Her eyes held no emotion; she simply stood there indifferently.

The security guard huddled next to her, his lips pale and his forehead covered in sweat.

The manager suddenly stopped, the fire in his chest extinguished as if doused with a bucket of ice water.

He didn't care about the taxi or whether there was a traffic jam at the entrance. He turned a corner and quickly walked up to Shen Zhiyi.

He bowed slightly, his smile both respectful and cautious: "Miss Shen, what are you doing here? What happened?"

"Ask him."

Shen Zhiyi didn't even lift a finger; she simply tilted her chin slightly toward the security guard.

The manager quickly turned his head and his gaze fell on the security guard's face.

The security guard lowered his head, his hands were clasped in front of him, his lips trembled, wanting to say something but not daring to.

The manager grew impatient and barked in a low voice, "What exactly happened? Tell me!"

His peripheral vision caught sight of Zhang Yifan, the boy standing next to Shen Zhiyi in old clothes. He felt that Zhang's features looked familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place him.

However, the person Shen Zhiyi was protecting so much must be her classmate. He didn't think much of it and turned his attention back to the security guard.

The security guard stammered, "Manager, it's this taxi... he's blocking the main entrance and won't move."

I was worried he was blocking the resident's way, so I told him to move his car, but he refused and even called me a dog...

Then this student stood up and said he was the homeowner, asked for my employee number so he could file a complaint against me. I asked him if he had proof of homeownership, and he couldn't produce it, so I...

"What do you mean?"

Shen Zhiyi interrupted him, her voice as cold as if it were filled with ice.

"So you're just insulting people who are poor students? And telling them to get lost?"

With each word she spoke, the security guard's face paled a little more, and the manager's forehead was covered in more sweat.

"He is my classmate. He took a taxi to the entrance of your community and was chased away by your security guards like trash."

Is the property management service at Yujingyuan resorting to direct personal attacks against unverified visitors?

Is this how you serve your homeowners?

The manager's back was drenched in cold sweat.

He could laugh it off if someone else had said these words, but when Shen Zhiyi said them, he didn't even dare to laugh.

His mind raced, trying to come up with all sorts of solutions.

He was forced to apologize, write a self-criticism, and have his security guard's wages deducted.

Each one seemed pale and powerless.

If Shen Zhiyi were to casually mention this to her parents when she got home, it would affect not only his position as a junior manager, but also the annual performance evaluation of the property management company.

He was about to reprimand the security guard, making a gesture to appease Shen Zhiyi, when a voice suddenly rang out from the side.

"If this is how the property management at Yujingyuan treats visitors, then I don't see the point of going through any acceptance procedures."

After saying this, Zhang Yifan turned to look at the manager, his voice low and his tone calm.

But every word fell clearly into the ears of everyone present, like a pebble thrown into a calm pond, ripples spreading outwards in circles.

Shen Zhiyi turned to look at him, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes.

He said he needed to complete the acceptance procedures? Wasn't he here to visit a classmate?

The manager was stunned.

He looked up at Zhang Yifan, his mouth slightly open, his mind racing as he searched for memories.

This figure, this age...

Then his expression suddenly changed drastically.

This morning, he was looking through the owner's information in his office. The new owner of Villa No. 1 did not leave a photo, but his age and name were clearly written on the information.

At the time, he remarked to his subordinates that rich people are getting younger and younger, and that this age must be due to their families buying them.

The boy standing in front of him now is wearing an old T-shirt and has been stopped at the door by a security guard who is cursing him as a poor wretch.

Could it be... the person who took over Villa No. 1 without even showing their face, only leaving their name and phone number!

He turned around abruptly, and the look in his eyes as he looked at the security guard was not anger, but fear.

The security guard was so frightened by the manager's look that his last bit of hope vanished. He collapsed as if his spine had been pulled out, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

The manager didn't have time to deal with him anymore.

He strode up to Zhang Yifan, bent down, and asked urgently, "Are you... are you surnamed Zhang? Mr. Zhang from Villa No. 1?"

Zhang Yifan nodded.

"it's me."

Just two words, spoken in a flat tone, as if saying the weather was nice today.

But these two words resonate completely differently with different people.

Shen Zhiyi's pupils contracted slightly.

She knew what Villa Number One meant.

The villa at Yujingyuan No. 1 has been vacant for more than a year or two. The price is one thing, but more importantly, this building was originally tailor-made for a prominent figure who retired from Beijing. From the feng shui orientation to the courtyard layout, everything was meticulously designed.

Later, when that important figure ran into trouble, the building seemed to be sealed off by an invisible seal, and it went on the market several times but no one wanted to buy it.

It takes more than just money to acquire this building.

But in her memory, Zhang Yifan was clearly a student from an ordinary family. She even remembered that he would only top up his meal card with fifty yuan each time, and he couldn't even bear to buy milk tea from the convenience store.

How did he become the owner of Villa No. 1 in Yujingyuan?

She looked at him, her mind filled with questions.

But more than anything, it was a secret joy that welled up from the bottom of her heart, a joy that she herself didn't even realize she was experiencing.

He lives here; he and she live in the same neighborhood.

From now on, it won't just be a competition for rankings anymore. She can bump into him in the neighborhood, or knock on his door on weekend mornings to borrow his notes, without having to cautiously probe through text messages and WeChat anymore.

She subconsciously switched the convenience store bag in her hand to her other hand, gripping it tightly. Her face still wore that indifferent expression, but the corners of her mouth had turned up slightly, which she couldn't suppress.