Xiao Yang Mistook the Young Lady

"Driver, license plate ending 5731. Drive faster, I'm in a hurry. If I'm late, I'll file a complaint," came the impatient voice from the backseat. The female passenger kept checking her phone, her expression the very picture of irritation.

"Got it," Yang, the driver, replied with a resigned sigh, quickly entering the plate number into the ride-hailing app.

Internally, he cursed—What’s the rush, going to your mother’s funeral? If you knew you’d be late, why not book the ride earlier?

But he kept those thoughts to himself. After all, customer service was part of the job.

As he released the brake and pressed the accelerator, the white BYD sedan shot into traffic like an arrow.

As a full-time driver for the Luo Shen Grand Hotel, Yang often picked up ride-hailing gigs in his spare time to save up for his future marriage.

Originally, today was supposed to be his rare day off—a special arrangement by the Third Miss of the Luo family.

But last night, his manager had dragged him out to an overpriced trendy cilantro restaurant, costing him a painful 2,880 yuan.

His triple overtime pay wouldn’t come until next month, so after that financial shock, he figured he might as well earn some extra cash today.

Once this car hit the road, even the Tang Monk would be tempted to take a few rides.

Though the real masterstroke was openly having an affair, then casually dropping the other man’s wife back home—only for her to thank you with a polite, "Thanks, driver."

Just as he completed the ride, his phone chimed again—another order, this time from Guangya Avenue to the Luo Shen Grand Hotel.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as his thoughts drifted. "Isn’t Guangya where the Third Miss and her sisters go to school?" he murmured to himself.

Having worked at the hotel for years, Yang had occasionally chauffeured the big boss, Luo Liang, and his daughters.

The thought made him sigh. If only he could get more private gigs with the Second Miss and Third Miss.

That would mean easy money—and extra vacation days.

A wry smile tugged at his lips.

Last night’s drunk pretty boy had it made—being doted on by both Luo sisters, even sharing a luxury suite with them.

Though envy gnawed at him, Yang knew better. That guy was his golden goose.

Play his cards right, and fortune would follow.

The light turned green. Yang stepped on the gas, smoothly crossing the intersection as the car sped toward Guangya Avenue.

Outside the window, the cityscape blurred past. As he focused on the road, his mind wandered back to today’s earnings.

Crunching the numbers, he realized that once next month’s triple pay came in, he could afford another round at that fancy cilantro place...

The taste really was unforgettable.

The thought eased the sting of the expense, and his foot unconsciously pressed harder on the accelerator.

Minutes later, the white BYD pulled up to the curb on Guangya Avenue.

The electric lock clicked softly, and as the rear door swung open, a breeze carrying the faint scent of gardenias swept into the car.

Two figures slid inside, followed by a voice as soothing as warm tea: "Driver, license plate ending 5020. Thank you."

Her tone was like snowflakes melting into a lake—gentle, with just the right touch of sweetness.

"Sure thing," Yang replied, his lips curling into an automatic smile. He always had a soft spot for polite passengers, especially ones with voices this soft and youthful.

Out of habit, he glanced at the rearview mirror—only to freeze for a split second before quickly straightening up.

"Second Miss," he said respectfully, "next time you bring your boyfriend to the hotel, you can just call me directly."

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