Chapter 669: The Grandstanding Backfires! So Coy and Timid!
The Son of Destiny, Ren Zhacheng, took a deep breath and said to He Yiyi, "He Yiyi, I know you don't believe me, but this time, I'll help you for free, so you won't owe anyone a favor, alright? Whatever the appraiser estimates the compensation to be, I'll pay it all."
Originally, Ren Zhacheng wanted to use this as a favor, but it seemed that his previous threats to He Yiyi had made her too disgusted with him, so he could only settle for the next best thing.
He Yiyi's expression wavered upon hearing this; if she could get through this so easily, that would naturally be for the best.
Shen Anyu smiled, a silent and knowing curl of his lips, as he gestured for the car insurance appraiser to proceed with his assessment of the damage.
The appraiser, a middle-aged man with a severe and professional air, nodded respectfully to Shen Anyu before turning his full attention to the magnificent, yet wounded, machine. He didn't just glance at it; he began a ritual. He pulled out a tablet and a small, high-intensity flashlight, methodically circling the Bugatti. The silence was thick as he ran a gloved hand over the fractured carbon fiber weave of the front bumper, the metal groaning under the slightest pressure. He took photos from every conceivable angle, the flash of his camera capturing the spiderweb of cracks in the custom paint and the deep, ugly gouge that marred the passenger-side door. Each click of the shutter seemed to echo in the tense atmosphere.
After what felt like an eternity of meticulous examination, he straightened up, tapped a few figures into his tablet, and turned back to Shen Anyu, his voice clear and unwavering.
"Mr. Shen, the preliminary loss is estimated at twenty-three million, five hundred and sixty thousand. Of course, the exact loss will require a full disassembly and further assessment at the workshop."
The number hung in the air, a monstrous figure that seemed to suck the very oxygen from the surroundings.
"What? Over twenty... twenty million???" Ren Zhacheng's voice cracked, his bravado shattering like glass. His eyes bulged with raw, unadulterated disbelief, his face draining of all color. He looked as if he'd been struck by lightning.
He Yiyi was equally dumbfounded, her pretty face a mask of blank shock. The number was so astronomically large it didn't even seem real. It was a figure she couldn't earn in a dozen lifetimes. A cold wave of despair washed over her, and her legs felt weak.
The surrounding onlookers, who had been whispering amongst themselves, erupted. The quiet murmur exploded into a chorus of shocked exclamations.
"Twenty-three million? Did I hear that right?"
"Is this thing forged from solid gold? Even a gold car wouldn't cost that much to fix!"
"My God, what kind of car is this? That's more than my entire company is worth!"
The sheer absurdity of the figure finally jolted Ren Zhacheng from his stupor. A surge of desperate anger replaced his shock. He stabbed a trembling finger first at the appraiser, then at Shen Anyu.
"You... you're in this together! This is extortion! Over twenty million? For a fender bender? This is absolute nonsense! The damage is two million at the absolute most!" Ren Zhacheng's face was a mess of doubt and fury, his voice shrill.
Shen Anyu remained silent, an amused glint in his eyes as he watched the pathetic display.
The appraiser, however, took the accusation as a personal insult. His face hardened, and his voice took on a sharp, indignant edge as he addressed Ren Zhacheng directly.
"Sir, you are questioning my professionalism! My assessment is backed by decades of experience and the official manufacturer's repair schedules."
He paused, taking a breath before delivering the final, crushing blow. "This is not a regular Bugatti Veyron. This is the Bugatti Veyron 18.6, the most expensive limited collector's edition ever produced. Only eighteen units were ever made for the entire globe, each one selling for as much as fifty-six million US dollars!"
He tapped his tablet, and a spec sheet appeared. "The 18.6 signifies that it has eighteen cylinders and six—six—turbochargers, equipped with a top-tier W18 engine. It produces a maximum of one thousand five hundred horsepower and accelerates from zero to one hundred kilometers per hour in just one point nine seconds."
The crowd gasped. The numbers were mind-boggling, sounding more like the specifications for a fighter jet than a car.
"Now that it's been crashed like this," the appraiser continued, his voice dripping with professional disdain, "the repair cost is almost secondary. The depreciation cost alone, the loss in value for a damaged collector's item of this rarity, is at least twenty million. We are talking about a piece of automotive history."
He looked Ren Zhacheng dead in the eye. "Sir, just to give you some perspective, at our insurance company, the annual premium for this Bugatti Veyron 18.6 alone reaches three million yuan! Your 'two million' wouldn't even cover a single year's insurance policy!"
The surrounding crowd drew a collective, sharp breath of admiration. Their eyes, now shining with a mixture of awe and reverence, all swiveled to Shen Anyu. They had seen rich people before, but this was a different existence entirely. A globally limited collector's edition Bugatti valued at fifty-six million US dollars—it was more expensive than a private plane.
He wasn't just wealthy; he was in a league of his own. And on top of it all, he was devastatingly handsome. More than a few women in the crowd stared at Shen Anyu, sparks practically flying from their eyes. Their legs felt weak, and a blush crept up their necks. This was the prince charming from their wildest dreams.
He Yiyi was also completely stunned, her gaze fixed on Shen Anyu. This impossibly handsome man... was he truly this rich? The reality of his status was a chasm, separating his world from hers.
[Ding! The Son of Destiny, Ren Zhacheng, has been greatly shocked. Plundering +6666 Destiny Points!]
When Ren Zhacheng finally processed the information, his mind was a buzzing hive of white noise. Utterly, completely, and hopelessly astonished.
'It's actually that expensive?? It's just...'
Suddenly, a flicker of memory sparked in his panicked mind. He spun to face Shen Anyu, clinging to this last straw of hope.
"Wait a minute! Didn't you just say that He Yiyi only needed to compensate two or three million? You said it yourself! Why is it over twenty million now?"
Shen Anyu smiled as he looked at Ren Zhacheng, his voice as smooth and leisurely as ever, which only made his words cut deeper.
"You're right, I did say that. But you also said that He Yiyi is 'just a girl.' I was being lenient with her, only asking her to cover the basic repairs. However," Shen Anyu's gaze sharpened, pinning Ren Zhacheng in place, "since you've stepped forward to act as her great protector, then it's a different story. You will be responsible for everything—not just the repair costs, but the depreciation fees, the loss-of-use fees, and so on."
He tilted his head slightly, his smile widening into a predatory grin.
"Surely, you can afford it, can't you?"
As Shen Anyu's words fell, a tidal wave of crimson washed over Ren Zhacheng's face. The casual question was a public execution.
He was right!
He really, truly couldn't afford it!
The beginner's gift package he received from the Goddess Future Diary System had included a Lamborghini and ten million in cash. A fortune for any normal person. But even if he liquidated everything, he couldn't scrape together twenty million. It wasn't even close.
The surrounding passersby saw the frantic, panicked expression on Ren Zhacheng's face and understood immediately. Their quiet discussions became pointed and merciless.
"Looks like this 'protector' can't actually protect anyone. His checkbook doesn't match his mouth."
"Of course not! We're talking over twenty million! Even if his family is loaded, who would just throw away that kind of money for a colleague?"
"Tsk tsk, it seems that handsome guy is the real deal. A true young master from a top-tier family. What an incredible display!"
"It's not just about money. To own a limited collector's edition Bugatti like this, you need more than wealth. You need status, connections."
"The handsome gentleman was being merciful, but this idiot just had to step up and play the hero. Now he can't pay up. What a complete and utter mess."
Feeling the strange, pitying, and scornful gazes of the crowd burning into his skin, Ren Zhacheng's face felt like it was on fire. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
[Ding! The Son of Destiny, Ren Zhacheng, failed to show off and made a fool of himself in public. Plundering +66,666 Destiny Points!]
...
He Yiyi felt a knot of dread tighten in her stomach. She looked timidly at Shen Anyu, her eyes wide with fear, terrified that he would turn his attention back to her and pursue the compensation. She couldn't afford it even if she sold herself into servitude for the rest of her life.
"What's your relationship with him?" Shen Anyu's voice cut through her panic. "He seems to care about you so much. Is he your boyfriend?"
"Ah..." He Yiyi was startled by the sudden question. Her gaze instinctively flickered to Ren Zhacheng, a look of pure disdain flashing across her face before she quickly shook her head, her denial firm. "No! We're just colleagues."
[Ding! The Son of Destiny, Ren Zhacheng, is heartbroken and depressed. Plundering +6666 Destiny Points!]
Ren Zhacheng's face turned grim. He opened his mouth to protest, to say something, but the words died in his throat. The towering sum of over twenty million was a mountain he simply couldn't climb right now. He was powerless.
A triumphant curve formed on Shen Anyu's lips. He elegantly raised his wrist, checking the time on his Patek Philippe, before his gaze fell back on He Yiyi's small, pure face. He smiled, his expression softening.
"It's getting late. The banquet is about to begin. Let's go."
Saying this, he extended a perfectly manicured hand towards her.
He Yiyi pursed her pink lips, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked at the gentle and utterly harmless expression on Shen Anyu's handsome face and finally made up her mind. Her small, tender hand hesitantly rested in Shen Anyu's large, warm one. He gently led her to the passenger side of the Bugatti Veyron.
'Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!'
Ren Zhacheng cursed silently, his heart seething with a volcanic rage.
'Isn't he just another rich second-generation brat? You just wait! One day, I'll make you pay the price for this humiliation!'
A deep-seated resentment toward Shen Anyu took root in his heart. The goddess He Yiyi, whom he had so masterfully manipulated and was on the verge of conquering, had been snatched away from him.
And she was snatched away right before his very eyes.
He watched helplessly as Shen Anyu led her by the hand into that monstrously expensive car. He watched helplessly as the Bugatti Veyron, despite its wounds, started with a low, powerful growl and slowly drove away. Ren Zhacheng's expression twisted, fluctuating between dark and light, but in the end, he abandoned any thought of chasing after them.
It was already almost seven in the evening. The banquet at the Hilton Hotel was about to begin.
'General Manager Ling is going to be drugged by Yu Guanxiong, the Second Young Master of the Yu family. This is a golden opportunity!'
Ren Zhacheng absolutely could not afford to miss it.
As for He Yiyi?
'He Yiyi is so pure and conservative,' he rationalized, a desperate attempt to salvage his pride. 'She definitely won't be taken advantage of so easily by that rich playboy. Yes, definitely not.'
In Ren Zhacheng's view, a woman like He Yiyi, who could resist his advances even when faced with the fatal leverage of embezzlement, was a bastion of purity. She wouldn't be won over by mere money and a handsome face.
Just being his female companion for a night was nothing. It meant nothing.
'Tonight, I must seize the opportunity and conquer General Manager Ling!'
Ren Zhacheng was once again full of ambition and confidence, his System's prophecies fueling his arrogance.
If He Yiyi was a delicious, comforting home-cooked dish, then Ling Qingcheng was a magnificent state banquet feast.
This excellent opportunity could not be missed.
Having settled his thoughts, Ren Zhacheng shot one last hateful glare in the direction Shen Anyu and He Yiyi had departed before getting into his own car and speeding towards the Hilton Hotel.
At this moment, inside the Bugatti Veyron, He Yiyi, like a timid little white cat, looked pitifully at Shen Anyu. Facing Shen Anyu's outstretched hand, her red lips slightly parted.
"Mr. Shen... no, you can't!"
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