And where did Sheng Yueqing get this car?
"Didn't you tell me you were poor? Where did you get this car?"
Sheng Yueqing readily admitted, "I bought it."
Old Mrs. He's eyes widened. "Bought it? How much did you pay for it?"
Sheng Yueqing held up her fingers, "Two hundred yuan."
Old Mrs. He was practically jumping up and down, "You bought a beat-up car for two hundred yuan?"
This vehicle is just a beat-up little van, not only is it dilapidated, but the color is also ugly.
This beat-up car costs two hundred yuan?
"Sheng Yueqing, you're such a spendthrift."
It would be much better to give her these two hundred yuan for her retirement, instead of buying her a car.
Sheng Yueqing chuckled, "I just want to buy a car. People say that buying a car can make you rich, so I'll borrow money to buy one."
Old Mrs. He was furious. "You even borrowed money to buy it? You spendthrift! Return the car and get your money back!"
Sheng Yueqing rolled her eyes. "No refund. The money's already spent; it'd be too embarrassing to ask for a refund."
Old Mrs. He practically poked her face with her finger. "What couldn't you have bought with two hundred yuan? Why did you have to buy such a shabby car? Couldn't you have bought something better?"
If we buy a better one, we can let our grandchildren drive it in the future.
With a beat-up car like this, how can you look good driving it?
Sheng Yueqing ignored her, "If you're so capable, then buy a luxury car."
Even though the era wasn't wealthy, the luxury cars that rich people bought cost tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of yuan.
You can't just buy something whenever you want.
Old Mrs. He only cared about the two hundred yuan, so she reached into Sheng Yueqing's pocket.
It was found to still be flat.
Looking at the car again, there were only some rotten vegetable leaves and a few empty baskets; there was nothing to scoop up.
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