It was no wonder that Tang Muxin and Mu Zixiao were curious. The old man dared to even drift and speed while riding a battery car, his face full of oil and a few wrinkles—except for his hair, beard, and eyebrows being white, his body thin and short, he did not look like a frail old man at all. No one would doubt that he could live for another twenty or thirty years if they saw him.
"I'm okay." The old man hurriedly said. "This young master, this old man here knows that I can't afford your car, and I still have to rush to work. About this, what can I do…" Up to here, he was also a little scared. The rearview mirror cost tens of thousands. If he were to be really made to pay for it, he couldn't afford it. He could only hope that this rich family's young master did not care about such small things. But the possibility was not very big, or it could be said to be minuscule…
