Qin Wan'er looked at He Ping with a fierce and covetous gaze, involuntarily shrinking back in fear.
Among those present, the only one she was familiar with was Zhang Xiaoyou. The others were hardly acquaintances, just people she had seen occasionally and not even on nodding terms. She had never wronged these people before, so she didn't understand why they treated her this way.
Qin Wan'er was indeed sensible, but after all, she was not deeply experienced in the world. She didn't understand that being poor was a mistake in itself. Identity, status, family background—all these clearly divided people into different classes. She was destined not to become friends with these people, no matter how kind she was. In the eyes of these people, kindness was probably the least valuable thing.
