The Summer Cup match would be held in the afternoon.
The morning's Summer Cup pep rally ended, and the students filed out.
On the way back to the classroom, everyone looked at Evan Lin with undisguised contempt in their eyes.
Darren Zhao and the others looked grim; the whole of Class 7 wore an air of gloom and misery.
Mr. Zheng strode into the classroom with a dark face, slamming the book in his hand onto the podium with a loud smack.
He swept his gaze around the room, his tone harsh: "This afternoon our class faces Class 3. For every goal we lose by, you'll all stand through a whole day of lessons!"
Then Mr. Zheng looked toward Evan Lin in the back row: "Evan Lin, yours is doubled! If it weren't for you, how would our class be missing Victor Feng?"
"For every goal lost, you stand for three days! Did you hear me?"
Mr. Zheng's face was as long as a ruler. After being humiliated by Director Qi and Principal Liu, he was in a foul mood!
Everyone in the sop class looked at Evan Lin, but no one dared to speak.
Mr. Zheng, when angry, was truly terrifying.
"And what are you supposed to be?" Evan Lin slowly closed the book on his desk, looked up, and met Mr. Zheng's gaze with cold indifference.
Silence.
No one expected Evan Lin to suddenly confront Mr. Zheng head-on.
Mr. Zheng's face turned alternately green and white. He pointed a trembling finger at Evan Lin, so angry his whole body shook: "What did you just say? Say it again!"
"I said, what are you supposed to be? Mr. Zheng, I've only tolerated you again and again because you're my homeroom teacher. Don't push it." Evan Lin frowned slightly. He'd previously held back to avoid upsetting his mom by causing trouble at school, but now, he felt there was no reason to endure any longer.
Studying had become laughably easy for him; Evan Lin was now absolutely confident that he'd stun everyone with his grades on the next finals.
"Damn, is Evan Lin crazy? How dare he talk to the homeroom teacher like that?" a few boys muttered, looking at Evan Lin with shock in their eyes.
"Evan Lin! Fine, fine! If your uncle hadn't pulled strings, how could you have gotten into my class?" Mr. Zheng fumed, striding over to grab Evan Lin by the collar. "Maybe I'm nothing, but Class 7 is mine, and I don't want you as a student anymore! Get out!"
Mr. Zheng practically roared, his hand about to grab Evan Lin's collar—when Evan's eyes narrowed, and he snapped out his right foot in a decisive front kick.