Song Rong's car was a Porsche sports car.
The superior performance of the sports car was pushed to its limits by him.
Just as Song Pin's flag waved down, the Porsche shot out like a roaring cheetah, bolting away like lightning.
The other rich kids were just playing around and didn't compete with Yang Fei.
Even so, six sports cars still managed to get ahead of Yang Fei.
Yang Fei's McLaren sports car ended up as the perennial last-place finisher.
"Haha, that idiot really can't race. What do you bet he's doing?"
Fang Tang burst into laughter at the sight.
The elite offspring watching at the side also laughed, mocking and ridiculing with their seven mouths and eight tongues.
"I guess he's taking his driving test. Such a serious newbie deserves full marks, hahaha."
"Maybe it's his first time in such a sports car, and he's so excited he's fainting. I'm really worried about him."
...
Fang Tang smugly raised his binoculars to watch Yang Fei's pathetic state.