Jiang Jingnan was waiting for Song Yan on the first floor when she saw Song Yan come down the stairs with a dark expression on her face, her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly put down the wine glass in her hand and hurried toward her.
Which blind fool had provoked this tyrant this time?
"Song Yan, what happened? Why did you come down so soon? Is the auction over?"
The main focus of tonight's auction was that piece of land; most of the invitees were businessmen, and Song Yan wasn't originally among those invited, nor was she interested. But when she learned that there was a charity item at the auction, she changed her mind and proactively obtained an invitation.
But judging by the current scene...
Jiang Jingnan had more or less guessed the outcome.
She tentatively asked, "Did you miss the chance?"
In theory, that shouldn't be the case.
Song Yan had taken on quite a few roles in the past few years, and her fees for the films were not low.
Moreover, having won several awards, her worth had already soared to that of a top-tier actress.
She wasn't short of money.
After all, it was just a charity item; how sought-after could it be?
Those businessmen were mainly focused on the land; who would seriously contend with her over a charity item?
Song Yan took a deep breath, but she still couldn't contain her anger.
"That guy with the surname Gu is sick in the head!"
-
Seeing Song Yan's figure from afar, the driver immediately got out of the car and opened the door for her.
But when he heard her say she wanted to drive back herself, the driver's face turned to one of horror.
"Miss Song, is there something I did wrong?" the driver cautiously asked.
"No, I just feel like driving."
Song Yan took the driver's seat, and the driver, struggling internally, moved to the other side, very consciously taking the passenger seat and swiftly buckling the seat belt, holding on tight.
With an expression that was resigned to his fate.
"..."
The interior of the car fell silent for a few seconds.
The driver decided to break the deadly quiet, pointing at the round button under the steering wheel and hinting, "Miss Song, the start button is here."
"Get out."
"Right away!" The driver, as if granted a reprieve, cheerfully unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car.
As the car door closed, the car started, and the driver watched with a sinking feeling as the wheels sharply turned left.
He was just about to speak up when the car had already driven off.
As expected, a jarring scraping noise soon followed...
The driver looked at the black Bentley, now sporting a long scratch, and felt a strong wave of sympathy pain.
The missing paint wasn't just paint; it was RMB...
Song Yan also realized something was off; she got out to take a look and felt a twinge of guilt.
But as soon as she spotted the familiar license plate, the guilt vanished without a trace.
Next, the driver watched, dumbfounded, as Song Yan gave the Bentley a kick.
Perhaps she was thinking about the high repair costs, red-faced with anger and venting her frustration?
He silently vowed to himself to check his surroundings before parking next time, choosing to park next to cheaper cars, just in case the tyrant suddenly took a whim to drive herself again.
Song Yan stood there for a while, seemingly considering how to deal with the situation.
Just as the driver was about to speak, Song Yan fixed her gaze on him and coldly ordered, "You stay and handle this."
"..."
Truth be told, if he had been the owner of the Bentley and saw his car scratched up like this, he would have been compelled to throw punches.
The white Porsche mercilessly sped away, leaving the driver standing alone in the biting wind.
Suddenly, his stomach started to ache.
But the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen.
After some thought, the driver, having only a pen and no paper, picked up a piece from the ground, wrote down a string of contact information on it, tucked the advertisement paper under the windshield wiper, and then hurriedly left with a clear conscience.
The night was deepening.
As soon as the man got into the car, the driver immediately reported to him, "Mr. Gu, the car has been scratched pretty badly."
The man's face was calm as he opened his mouth to ask, "What about the one responsible for the accident?"
"They ran off, but they left this for you," the driver carefully handed over the advertisement paper he had taken from the windshield wiper to the man in the back seat.
At first, he thought it was just an ordinary ad paper and wanted to discard it, but luckily he noticed the numbers written on it.
The man in the back seat took the flyer.
In the upper left corner was the name of a clearly printed medication.
The middle featured a large promotional slogan.
"Stand up, be a proud man!"
On the blank space beside it, there was a string of mobile phone numbers.
The man's eyes narrowed slightly.
In the front seat, the driver couldn't help but let out a brief burst of laughter.
The man's gaze turned coolly towards him, and the driver quickly cleared his throat, feigning seriousness.
He passed the flyer back to the driver, instructing, "Keep this safe."
Driver: "?"
He felt subtly insulted.