Chen Rou only went to the intersection to make a phone call. A short while later, Song Yuanchao arrived first: "Madam."
When the boss wasn't around, he got bolder and grabbed A Yuan's hand: "Come on, let's arm wrestle."
The little guy knew he couldn't beat his godfather in an arm wrestling match, so he didn't try. Instead, he leaned his forehead against his godfather and smiled.
Chen Rou didn't care, but Song Yuanchao, feeling guilty, whispered, "I dare not tell Dad."
The little guy rested his head on his hand, laughed, and nodded, "Ooh ooh."
Song Yuanchao lifted his finger and breathed on it, then lifted the little guy's hat and gently touched his forehead. A Yuan immediately burst into laughter, but it wouldn't be polite not to reciprocate. Song Yuanchao helped him put his hat back on, and as he bent down, A Yuan also wanted to touch his godfather's forehead, but his chubby little hands weren't precise enough. He pinched his little hand and punched his godfather.
Song Yuanchao immediately exclaimed, "Ouch, it hurts! It hurts so much!"
They were having a great time when they heard the sound of a motorcycle behind them, and someone whistled, "Hey!"
Song Yuanchao quickly looked up and turned around: "Please, keep your voice down."
He was a Taiwanese guy, riding a gleaming Harley-Davidson motorcycle. He took off his helmet and pouted, "Please, can you at least be a little nicer?"
He smiled at Chen Rou again: "Miss Chen, this was made by the motorcycle shop using all the parts from your previous motorcycle. However, I thought silver would be more elegant, so I made a slight change to the appearance."
Chen Rou needs to get a motorcycle exactly the same as the one she had before. It's not expensive, only 50,000 yuan.
But its performance is simply unbeatable. When it runs, it's not Chen Rou leading the car, but the car leading her. You could say that whether she was dealing with that Tokyo racer in Happy Valley or taking down Cheung Tze-keung a while ago, the car helped her with at least 30% of the effort.
She still needs another car, but she doesn't want anyone to know that it's the car she wants.
And coincidentally, Xiao Juanzi was taking her high school entrance exam and needed an internship, while Wan Daozai was on vacation in Hong Kong, so she asked him to help her with the assignment.
But he has a big problem: he's too subjective.
The car's hardware is fine, but the color is wrong. Song Yuanchao asked, "Do you think it looks good?"
Taiwanese man pats car: "I think it's great."
Song Yuanchao said, "It's the same color, but the original one was not only black, it also flashed, like, 'bang bang bang...'"
Chen Rou was a little embarrassed and whispered, "Radiant and dazzling."
Song Yuanchao said, "Yes, yes, the light flowing when it's projected onto it, and although the trim is gold, it doesn't look tacky at all. It's just that car, B, that B car..."
The Taiwanese guy's mouth twisted slightly, and when he looked at Chen Rou, his eyes seemed to say: Look at him, he's such an idiot.
Since Nie Zhao didn't own a Bentley, and Song Yuanchao hadn't done his research, Chen Rou had to remind him: "A gold-plated Bentley."
Song Yuanchao said, "Yes, that color, with its outline, a black that can't be too flashy, is the only color that suits us, us..."
Taiwanese boy rolled his eyes again: "The only one in all of Hong Kong, a peerless beauty, mysterious and beautiful, who makes the richest man willingly abandon his beautiful wife and visit his lover's boudoir every night, a bodyguard lover."
Song Yuanchao frowned: "It seems you've been doing quite well with your tutoring with Xiao Juanzi lately."
The Taiwanese man shrugged: "All the people waiting for their kids to get out of school are housewives, and I can't get them to come over, so I just read the newspaper."
In those unlicensed street tabloids, it was said that Boss Nie not only visited his bodyguard's boudoir every night, but also claimed with certainty that when Boss Nie returned home in the morning, he was always drained dry by the beautiful bodyguard, and that at only thirty years old, his legs were already weak.
In short, the hardware is very good, but the software is not.
Song Yuanchao said, "Money is not a problem. Let them use the best paint and make sure to spray out the most beautiful color."
The Taiwanese man was helpless; he regretted taking the job. It was such a hassle.
He was about to leave when he suddenly reached out and snatched Ah Yuan's hat, asking fiercely, "Do you know who I am?"
A-Yuan was startled. He pouted and his big eyes widened in surprise at the kitten.
Anyway, Nie Zhao isn't in Hong Kong, and this kid won't complain.
The Taiwanese man deliberately grinned and said, "I, the boss of the number one triad in the universe, the Bamboo Union, am giving you a chance. Kneel down and become my disciple, and I will teach you unparalleled martial arts. Otherwise, ah..."
But as soon as he reached out, A Yuan suddenly threw a punch, hitting him right in the eye.
The boy from Taiwan was stunned because he hadn't expected a little baby's fist to be so hard and so fast.
His eyeballs were almost popped out; his eyes and nose hurt together, and snot was running down his face. He looked up and said, "Ms. Chen, your son is hitting someone."
But it was the first time A-Yuan had hit someone, so he felt wronged and scared, and he even cried.
Raising her little fist and looking up at her mother, she said, "Mangmang, I'm scared!"
Chen Rou is quite good at coaxing children.
She rubbed the child's fist and said, "Baby, don't be afraid."
He then said to the Taiwanese boy, "Who told you to be unable to dodge in time? If you want to joke with my son in the future, be careful before you do it. He's too fast. If you can't dodge in time, you deserve to suffer the loss."
Song Yuanchao quietly gave his godson a thumbs-up and whispered, "Well done."
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