Only I knew the answer. The place just happened to be right next to the convenience store. At 11:30 a.m., everyone, lecturers and students alike, was already seated. That was when Patrick and Emily strolled in, deliberately late, hand in hand. Every head turned toward them. The two of them had completely reinvented themselves, dripping luxury from head to toe. Patrick strutted forward and handed out branded bags to every classmate. "Order whatever you like tonight. Everything's on me!" The room fell silent. People stared at them like they were clowns. A few even whispered whether the purses were knockoffs. Patrick smirked and pulled the lottery ticket from his bag, waving it proudly in front of everyone. "I won 50 million." The room erupted. "Fifty million dollars?" "No way! Patrick's that lucky?" "Damn, I couldn't make that in a lifetime." As if that was not enough, he had even hung a giant banner in the restaurant. [Congratulations to Patrick on Winning the 50-Million Jackpot!] One lecturer frowned and asked, "But the ticket's still in your hand. The prize hasn't even been paid out yet. Where did all this money come from?" Patrick brushed it off with a laugh. "The money's basically mine already. I'm just enjoying it a little earlier." Then, someone in the crowd blurted, "Wait, isn't Emily dating Oliver? Why is she with Patrick?" All eyes turned toward her. Emily did not even flinch. She clutched Patrick's hand tightly, face calm and voice sharp, as she said, "People move up in life. Don't you get that? Oliver's destined to be a wage slave after graduation. But Patrick? He's different. And besides, Patrick has been my true love all along." The room buzzed, stunned. Finally, a classmate spoke up in my defense, "But Oliver landed a Fortune 500 offer. That's the best placement in our entire class." Patrick burst into laughter so hard that tears welled in his eyes. "And what's that worth? Even if he got the best offer, will he ever make 50 million in his lifetime? These days, having a so-called good job just proves you're a high-class workhorse. Truth is, you're no better than a dog." Then he sneered at me. "Oliver, you're not even fit to polish my shoes. But if you grovel nicely, maybe I'll take pity on you and throw you a free meal."