The sight of that car made Mrs. Yue worried. "Why are you driving the Pagani then? Didn't you say you won't go around racing anymore?"
All men were fond of cars, and Yue Tingfeng was one of them. He liked them, he had the money, and he could dabble in them. His garage kept many of the world's most luxurious supercars. The total price had already exceeded a hundred million. In his younger, wilder days, he engaged in things such as betting on racecars and even participating in those races.
That Pagani cost him about thirty-five million, yet it did not even make it to the being the top cars in his supercar collection.
Yue Tingfeng opened the car door and got in. "I'm going to settle something."
His answer intensified Mrs. Yue's anxiety. "What is it that you're settling? Where are you going? You… You're going racing with other people, aren't you? My son, you can't join them."
