All ten classrooms for the first year of high school are located on the fifth floor of the teaching building.
When the bell rang, the students went out into the corridor for a break. Wang Peng found Wang Cheng at the door of Class 10.
“Come with me,” he said.
Wang Cheng's heart tightened as he recalled the slap his older brother had given him, and his cheek throbbed with pain.
The two arrived at the rooftop, and Wang Cheng said with a smile, "Big brother, what's up... um!"
He was punched in the stomach, and he squatted down, clutching his stomach, his face contorted in pain, his head bowed, not daring to look at Wang Peng.
"Why did you hit me?" Wang Cheng struggled to raise his head.
"Why?" Wang Peng shook his head. "You always say that the eldest brother is like a father, and isn't it only natural for a father to beat his son?"
Wang Cheng's eyes widened immediately, followed by a chill running down his spine; this was deliberate provocation.
Previously, deliberately picking fights was his specialty, because his parents always sided with him and his older brother always gave in to him.
"Wang Cheng, this period of military training is very important to me. Don't cause any more trouble, or else..."
A fist the size of a sandbag slammed into Wang Cheng's face.
Wang Peng sneered, "If you dare to be disobedient, I'll beat you until you behave, understand?"
"Brother, I'm innocent! I'm trying to avoid you, how could I dare to cause you trouble?" Wang Cheng readily admitted defeat.
Wang Peng's parents couldn't control him, and the school would definitely favor the top scorer in the college entrance examination. They couldn't beat him in a fight, so they had no choice but to back down.
“Remember what you said: as long as you don’t mess with me, I won’t beat you up,” Wang Peng warned him. “I’m busy, don’t waste my time.”
"I've got it." Wang Cheng stood up, clutching his stomach. "Big brother, I've got it."
“Fine, if I run into trouble and can’t find the source of it, I’ll blame it on you.” Wang Peng raised his fist again.
Wang Cheng shrank back in fright, then heard the school bell ring and watched Wang Peng turn and walk off the rooftop.
He hesitated for a few seconds, then pulled a letter of complaint from his pocket, tore it to shreds, and stuffed it into his pocket.
This is a letter of complaint to be sent to the principal's mailbox, accusing Wang Peng of neglecting his duties by selling fried rice with eggs at the school gate, which seriously damages the image of the school.
Now he doesn't dare to anymore. He's happy to trip up Wang Peng, provided that his own safety is guaranteed.
...
Grade 11, Class 1.
Textbooks and clothes are being distributed in the classroom.
The shirts, pants, and shoes were all green; uniforms were required for military training, and the school even hired active-duty soldiers as instructors.
"What an ugly dress." Chen Xiaojing picked up the dress and smelled it; it smelled like cheap fabric.
"Wang Peng, do you think it's ugly?" Chen Xiaojing asked with a look of disgust.
"It's alright," Wang Peng shook his head. "We can use it as work clothes after military training, so it's not a waste."
He put his clothes and shoes on the desk.
He took out his junior high algebra textbook and said, "Mengjiao, can you explain this problem to me?"
This was a word problem, and he tried it many times but could never get the correct answer.
Li Mengjiao pointed to the formula he had listed, "Your formula is wrong, this is a quadratic equation..."
She unscrewed the pen to write down the formulas and quietly explained the solution.
Wang Peng suddenly realized something, scratched his head, and said, "Oh, it was my carelessness. Thank you, classmate."
Li Mengjiao took out a workbook from her schoolbag, found three similar practice questions, and said, "Do these three questions."
"Okay, thank you." Wang Peng quickly thanked him and buried himself in his work.
Their deskmate, Dong Biao, kept glancing at them out of the corner of his eye, growing increasingly jealous.
The Li family and the Dong family have close business ties. He and Li Mengjiao were childhood sweethearts, and he had long regarded Li Mengjiao as his own.
"Wang Peng, the high school textbooks have already been distributed, why are you still studying junior high school material?" Dong Biao asked with a smile.
“Junior high school is the foundation for high school, and I want to build a solid foundation,” Wang Peng replied.
“Your family must be in big business too.” He pointed to Wang Peng’s clothes. “Playboy jacket, Apple jeans, all imported, costing more than a thousand yuan in total.”
“No,” Wang Peng said casually, continuing to study the math problem.
He bought the shirt and pants at the People's Department Store for less than eighty yuan in total, and he didn't even know what brand they were.
"Hey?" Dong Biao moved closer. "Something's not right! Your jacket and pants aren't genuine. Were you scammed?"
Wang Peng put down his pen. "These two pieces of clothing cost less than eighty yuan. Why are you always so concerned about my clothes?"
“My deskmate,” Dong Biao shook his head, “genuine Playboy jeans start at 500 yuan, genuine Apple jeans start at 600 yuan, and what you’re wearing are all fakes.”
"What's it to you?" Wang Peng sensed his provocation and retorted directly, "If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't even know what brands they are."
Dong Biao blushed when he was rebuked, "Stop pretending. If you can't afford the real thing, wear the fake. Don't be so vain."
“Hey buddy, even if I’m vain, what’s it to you?” Wang Peng stared straight at him.
The two were speaking quite loudly, and the classroom immediately quieted down.
Dong Biao blushed after being rebuked. He wanted to warn Li Mengjiao not to be deceived by Wang Peng's counterfeit goods, but he couldn't say it out loud.
"I just can't stand vain people," Dong Biao sneered. "They clearly can't afford designer brands, so they buy fake ones to pass themselves off as something they're not."
Wang Peng gripped his sleeves and said, "I buy all my clothes with my own money. Who bought your clothes? Are you showing off that you have a rich dad?"
Upon hearing this, Dong Biao blushed and turned red in the face, not daring to flaunt his wealth in front of the whole class and Li Mengjiao.
"Biaozi, are you out of your mind? We're students, why are we comparing clothes? If we're going to compare, let's compare grades." Chen Xiaojing said with a half-smile.
“Fine, let’s compete.” Dong Biao got carried away. “Wang Peng, you have to sell fried rice at the school gate every day, which must be interfering with your studies. Next time, my grades will definitely be better than yours.”
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