"Ah, it seems like you know what's going on, don't you?" Wang Hao leaned on his Bugatti Hong Guang, lit a cigarette, and laughed, "I actually didn't expect you to come up with such a sneaky plan, and thankfully my eyesight is a bit better; otherwise, you might have succeeded."
At that time, the group of rich second-generation car enthusiasts had all gathered around, looking at him with unfriendly expressions.
"Don't, don't come over!" Zhang Jiaxing kept backing away, "Don't come over! I don't know anything, I don't know anything!"
"I didn't say I wanted you to know anything," Lan Qinglong patted the nail board and said, "But you haven't forgotten about honoring a bet, have you? Today, you agreed, a decisive battle at Jin Ming Mountain, and the loser leaves his car badge, right? Ah, it's such a pity that seven people couldn't outrun one..." He waved his hand, "What are you waiting for? Do it!"
