"No, no, brother, don't make the call, okay? I don't want compensation; I'll just leave now," the taxi driver said, looking as pale and frightened as a cat that had its tail stepped on, jumping back.
In the eyes of the taxi driver, Su Xuan had become a murderous maniac, and making that phone call definitely meant calling someone to deal with him. He had heard too many stories like this.
Su Xuan was taken aback, looking puzzled, "Aren't you asking me to compensate for your car? I don't carry money with me, can't I just have someone bring it to you?"
"Do you really want to compensate for my car?" the taxi driver felt that Su Xuan's attitude seemed not so bad.
"Of course," Su Xuan, eager to leave, immediately dialed Chen Wanqing's number, "Hello, Wanqing? I've had a little incident, could you send someone to deal with it?"
"What happened again? Is it serious? You are not in any danger, are you?" Chen Wanqing's voice suddenly became tense, as if Su Xuan had committed murder again.
