The Story of Tuishen and the Young Lady 9

Last week, I met a woman in the stock market. She’s 30 years old. We’ve been talking for over half a year, and everything has gone well. Today, she suggested we meet, and I hesitated. I told her I have a family and I’m still young, so I didn’t feel comfortable, but she said it’s okay. We agreed to just be friends. We exchanged photos, and she looks quite beautiful. She’s not far from my city, and we agreed 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 be a “disaster,” since beauty filters are so powerful now. But when she got out of a Porsche, I recognized her immediately — 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 awkwardness, she suggested a hug. I said okay. She smelled really nice, and my heart was pounding. We sat in the milk tea shop for a while before going to eat. She hardly ate anything, mostly helping me peel shrimp and pick out fish bones. After the meal, 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, I couldn’t 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 softly whispered in my ear, “If you want it, then next week, lock in , @E1@, @E2@, @E3@, @E4@, @E5@, @E6@, @E7@, @E8@!”