You Actually Tried to Stage a Car Accident?

At five in the afternoon, the quitting bell had barely rung when Li Ye was the first to rush out of the office building, leap into his car, start the engine, shift gears, and head for the gate.

He was hurrying to pick up his little wife from work.

Although Wen Leyu had been pregnant for less than two months and was still bouncing around as if nothing showed, Li Ye would not let down his guard.

What if she accidentally fell? What if a dog bit her on the road? So Li Ye had insisted that she wait for him at work, guarding and protecting the safety of both mother and child with painstaking care.

Since he had to mind appearances, Li Ye could only crawl along in second gear inside the factory grounds, not daring to create any "street-blasting roar."

The moment he drove out through the gate, though, Li Ye floored it and let loose. From second to third gear, he was about to break a hundred.

But just as he shifted into third, he saw a disheveled, scruffy-bearded man dart from the roadside straight toward his car.

"Fuck me, they had people staging car accidents in the eighties too?"

"Screeeech—"

Li Ye reacted instantly and slammed on the brakes. The Santana's four tires immediately dragged out four black streaks across the road, letting out a shrill, miserable wail.

"It's over, it's over, it's over—I don't have a dashcam."

Although Li Ye had braked in time, he figured he would still knock that bastard trying to stage an accident several meters away. He probably would not die, but a few broken ribs were highly likely.

Li Ye felt deep regret.

Lately, he really had gotten a little carried away. Relying on his quick reflexes and the sparse