Chapter 3
I rolled my eyes at them and said coldly,
“Can’t you understand plain words? I said I don’t need it–and I won’t lend my card to anyone.”
A flicker of darkness passed through Hannah’s eyes.
The next second, she wiped her tears and, with a wounded expression, addressed the
class:
“I’m sorry, everyone. I just wanted to invite you to the auction–to use this chance to bond and get to know each other. But Vivian’s upset, so I can’t take you. It’s my fault.”
She sobbed dramatically, then collapsed into Eric’s arms. Eric looked heartbroken, but when he turned to me, his eyes were filled with rage.
Without warning, he slapped me across the face and then kicked me in the stomach, sending me crashing to the ground.
My cheek and stomach burned with pain, and I struggled to breathe.
Eric cursed at me furiously.
“Vivian, you did this on purpose, didn’t you? You can’t stand to see Hanhan shine! You always thought you were better than us because your family’s rich, flaunting luxury brands every day. But now that Hanhan can afford to take the class to an auction, you’re jealous!”
One of the nearby classmates was also fuming. She grabbed a water cup off the table and hurled it at my head.
“Have you no shame, Vivian? We finally have the chance to attend an auction, and you ruin
it for us!”
“I saw you carrying a Chanel bag–it’s last year’s model. You look down on us, don’t you?” “You’re so rich, yet the only thing you ever gave us was some cheap drink from Auntie Shanghai. Do you think we’re beggars?”
She then grabbed her unfinished drink and splashed it in my face.
Others followed, picking up whatever was left on the table and throwing their drinks at me.
In seconds, I was drenched and humiliated, my clothes soaked through.
I struggled to my feet, grabbed a bench beside me, and slammed it onto the ground.
Everyone backed away in fear, shouting.
“Vivian, are you insane?!”
I stared at them, shaking with pain and fury, then pulled out my phone and dialed 911 without hesitation.
“Hello, police? I’m being physically assaulted. The address is…”
Before I could finish, Eric rushed over, snatched the phone from my hand, and smashed it to the ground.
20.41 Tue, 8 Jul
“Vivian, are you out of your mind? You really dared to call the police?!”
I met his glare with a cold stare.
“You dare to hit me–why shouldn’t I report it?”
He raised his hand again, clearly ready to strike.
I looked at him dead in the eyes.
part of your criminal record.”
Within ten minutes, the police arrived. The teacher came running soon after.
“Go ahead. Every time you touch
me will came
running soon after.
ས ཊཱི 92%E
The police wanted to de–escalate, noting that I wasn’t seriously injured, and suggested that they pay for emotional distress.
The teacher looked displeased and warned me not to stir up trouble again.
I demanded that each person compensate me for one thousand dollars. The police agreed.
The entire class exploded with curses and complaints, but the officer shot them a cold look.
“Either settle it here, or we’ll file charges and leave you with a criminal record. Your choice.”
Hearing that, everyone quieted down and reluctantly paid up.
A thousand dollars–half a month’s living expenses for them–was enough to sting.
After the police left, I gathered my scattered belongings and checked my bank cards. They were all there. I sighed in relief.
I returned to the dorm to change, then called the teacher to apply for off–campus housing. After packing, I slung my bag over my shoulder, ready to head home.
Just then, I noticed something–my bag looked like it had been moved. But after checking carefully, everything inside was still intact.
