"Xiao Shu, you're really driving well. So relaxed and smooth—there should be no problem at all," Song Xiaodong complimented after they'd been driving for a while.
Lin Shu relaxed a bit and responded, "I've actually always been a decent driver. It's just that this car is way too good, and it makes me nervous."
"What's there to be nervous about? It's just a car. If it gets scratched or dinged, let the insurance company fix it," he said nonchalantly.
Lin Shu pouted and retorted, "Uncle, you're the rich guy here, you're not afraid. We're the poor ones."
"Ha! But aren't you all friends with a rich guy now? If I casually give you a little something, you'd instantly be wealthy ladies."
Lin Shu giggled and replied, "That's what YOU said, right? Don't blame me if I cling to that promise."
After a brief silence, Lin Shu asked teasingly, "Xiao Ling, is it comfy sitting on Uncle's lap?"
