When You Cry, Don't Kneel

Zhang Yang frowned. A familiar name suddenly flashed through his mind: Zhong Qingrong. He ran it through his head several times, then remembered.

Zhong Qingrong was only a few years older than Zhang Yang. They had attended the same university.

Back then, Zhong Qingrong had been an officer in the Student Union, while Zhang Yang had been an ordinary student.

Like other students, Zhang Yang had harbored big ambitions. He had wanted to prove himself and gain experience, so he had applied to join the Student Union. But Zhong Qingrong had vetoed his application.

Zhang Yang remembered now. Zhong Qingrong apparently did not.

"Remember me, senior? I'm Zhang Yang. Long time no see." Zhang Yang sneered. What a small world.

Back then, Zhang Yang had been powerless to do anything about Zhong Qingrong. Zhong Qingrong was a Student Union officer, and he was just a student. The man could come up with any number of reasons to reject him.

In fact, Zhang Yang had been ostracized at university for a simple reason: a poor kid like him had somehow won over a beauty like Cheng Dongxue. How could the others not resent him?

Students were hotheaded and seldom rational, and plenty were quick to envy. Nothing Zhang Yang did had gone smoothly.

Zhong Qingrong truly did not remember Zhang Yang. He frowned, searching his memory for the people he knew, but even after a long while, the name meant nothing to him.

"Do we know each other?" Zhong Qingrong asked, frowning.

Zhang Yang had already called Zhong Qingrong "senior." That should have pointed him toward their student days.

"Back at university, a student applied to join the Student Union, and you rejected him. Forgot?" Zhang Yang frowned, then grinned. "Too important to remember?"

Zhong Qingrong's brow remained furrowed. He still