The Story of Tuishen and the Young Lady 11

Last week, I met a woman in the stock market. She’s 30 years old. We’ve been chatting for over half a year, and everything has been going well. Today, she suggested we meet in person, and I hesitated. I told her I have a family and that I’m still young, so I wasn’t sure about it, but she said it’s okay. We agreed to be just friends. We exchanged photos, and she looks quite beautiful. She’s not far from my city, so we arranged to meet at a milk tea shop. I didn’t choose a different place to avoid running into someone I know. I arrived first because she has a three-hour drive. While waiting, I looked at her photos again, worried it might turn out to be a “disaster,” since beauty filters are so powerful now. But when she got out of a Porsche, I immediately recognized her—she looked much better in person than in the photos, and she’s exactly my type. She recognized me too. Not sure what to say to break the awkward silence, she suggested a hug. I agreed. She smelled really nice, and my heart was pounding. We sat in the milk tea shop for a while, then went to eat. She hardly ate anything, mostly helping me peel shrimp and pick out fish bones. After dinner, we left the restaurant, and she held my hand—I didn’t pull away. She said she wanted to take me home, but I told her I’d take a taxi. She asked how I liked her Porsche. As a motorcycle rider, how could I say I didn’t like it? She asked if I wanted one. I thought she was joking, so I said yes. She suddenly pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “If you want one, next week, lock in YuNeng, Tongyuan, Jinlan, Keli, Air China, Intercontinental, Baichuan!”