The thought of buying a house made him excited. Only by having his own little home could he avoid bringing shame to the reborn army.

Upon arriving at the bicycle shed, I looked up and saw Dong Biao and Wang Cheng carrying a pile of exercise books out of the academic affairs office.

The two sides didn't get along, so Wang Peng ignored them, locked his bicycle, and turned to walk towards the teaching building.

It was break time, and Wang Peng walked from the bike shed to the teaching building, where his classmates all stared at his clothes.

Denim jackets and basketball shoes are both trendy clothing items that attract a lot of attention.

"This bicycle is from Taiwan, exactly the same as mine, both cost 500 yuan each."

"The jeans and t-shirts are fake, but the Li-Ning basketball shoes are genuine. They'll cost seven or eight hundred yuan in total."

Dong Biao watched Wang Peng's retreating figure and sneered.

A flicker of jealousy crossed Wang Cheng's eyes as he stole glances at Wang Peng's bicycle out of the corner of his eye.

“Brother Biao, he’s just a fried rice vendor, he’s definitely not as rich as your family, so you’re wearing the real thing and he’s wearing the fake.”

“In our school, you’re the only one wearing the real thing, am I right, Brother Biao?”

Wang Cheng smiled and flattered him.

Dong Biao felt comfortable being patted on the back and puffed out his chest. "You can't say that. The Apple brand jeans that Zhang Qianqian in our class is wearing are genuine imports from the United States, starting at 588 yuan."

A slightly chubby girl with poor grades, a bit ugly, 1.5 meters tall, and weighing at least 130 kilograms appeared in Wang Cheng's mind.

She is Zhang Qianqian.

Wang Cheng never expected that this quiet, often bullied girl was actually a rich heiress.

Seeing him in a daze, Dong Biao joked with him, "If you marry her, you can also wear Apple brand jeans."