Chapter 73: Kiss on the Race Track

This is the person who was on the hot search with me a few days ago.

Wen Ling thought about it seriously, then recalled that comment.

The son of that big shot who cannot be lightly discussed, whom I saw at the FR Holdings annual meeting.

The man stood up, slightly leaned forward, extended his hand, and smiled, saying, "Hello, sister-in-law. I am Zhao Ningyan; am I now considered Xiao Wu's future brother-in-law?"

The Zhao family big shot? Only that person came to Wen Ling's mind; she chuckled lightly, extending her fingertip to lightly grasp Zhao Ningyan's hand.

Zhou Yinhe pulled Wen Ling's hand back, held it in his hand and gave it a squeeze, displeased: "Who said you're my brother-in-law? My older sister doesn't like you, and don't act like a gentleman here."

Zhao Ningyan gave a muffled laugh and sat back in his original seat.

Ke Chengyu gave them a meaningful look, then said to both: "Please sit; I've been waiting for you a while."

Zhou Yinhe stepped forward to pull out a chair for Wen Ling; after she sat down, he then sat beside her. Seeing the two sit, the people around gathered in twos and threes, some leaving, some staying to continue eating, no one daring to disturb this table where the young masters at the top of the pyramid sat.

Zhou Yinhe attentively poured juice for Wen Ling, carefully cutting her steak into small pieces for her to eat easily; Qi Zhan beside them couldn't bear to look, rolled his eyes and left first.

The remaining few were rather calm; seeing Zhou Yinhe's lovestruck, fawning behavior, they merely smiled at the corners of their mouths and watched.

Suddenly, Jiang Jibai asked: "Are you going to Qin Lao's birthday banquet tomorrow?"

He was looking at Zhou Yinhe, naturally asking him; as they are the heirs of their families and old friends with the Qin Family, they naturally would go, but Zhou Yinhe is different—he can go if he wants to give face, or not go if he doesn't.

Zhou Yinhe did not answer him, instead gazing at Wen Ling, who was lowering her eyes and quietly eating her steak.

Noticing his gaze, Wen Ling lifted her head to look at him; Zhou Yinhe whispered: "Are you going to your maternal grandfather's birthday banquet tomorrow?"

His voice was very soft, as if speaking any louder would startle Wen Ling; Jiang Jibai was left speechless.

Wen Ling curled her lips and said softly: "I won't go; just have someone send a gift then."

Zhou Yinhe let out an 'oh' and told Jiang Jibai: "Then I won't go either."

"It's just that Yuchen didn't come today; if he had, he'd definitely scold you." Zhao Ningyan rested his finger on his lips, unable to stop laughing.

Zhou Yinhe wore an indifferent expression, but Wen Ling reached out and tugged at his sleeve, saying softly: "Go ahead; you're on good terms with my cousin, it wouldn't be good not to go, and you can just bring my gift along."

Zhou Yinhe furrowed his brows, very much wanting to refuse, but Wen Ling reached out and pinched his earlobe, causing him to swallow the words he was about to say and agree.

Jiang Jibai couldn't hold back, rose and said: "You eat; I'll go check on my car first."

Seeing the two leave, Ke Chengyu and Zhao Ningyan exchanged a glance, also rose and left, leaving the two sitting at the table.

Wen Ling casually ate a few bites, then said to Zhou Yinhe: "I want to see your car."

Zhou Yinhe responded, leading Wen Ling to the garage where his car was parked alone; as the garage door opened, a deep red modified race car sat quietly there, and Wen Ling couldn't help exclaiming: "How beautiful."

Zhou Yinhe embraced her from behind, his lips brushing her ear, whispering softly: "Nothing is as beautiful as you."

Wen Ling lifted her hand to touch the cheek pressed against her ear, a smile appearing in her brows and eyes, she chuckled: "So cheesy."

"Speaking frankly."

Wen Ling pushed him away and walked to the front of the car; her finger was about to touch the car when she paused mid-air, looked up and asked: "May I touch it?"

Zhou Yinhe followed behind her, leaned in, grabbed her hand and placed it on the car, saying softly: "Why not? I let you touch me freely, let alone a car."

"Who wants to touch you." Wen Ling gave him a light, airy glance, the corners of her eyes full of a charm so intense it seemed about to overflow.

She turned around and got into the driver's seat; she hadn't wanted to play, but seeing the car behind changed her mind, and she told Zhou Yinhe: "I want to first take a lap to test it."

Zhou Yinhe had no objection; he took her to change into a protective racing suit, handed her a brand-new helmet, voluntarily sat in the passenger seat, reached out to adjust her helmet for her, and said softly: "Let's go to another track."

The track they usually drive on is built winding around the mountain, overly twisty, and at this moment several cars are already speeding at high speed, making it unsuitable for Wen Ling, an inexperienced novice.

Wen Ling raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly asking: "You look down on me?"

Zhou Yinhe was merely worried about her safety, after all, those people play recklessly.

Wen Ling ignored him, started the car herself; the engine's roar burst forth, the car shot out like an arrow from a bow, and following the signs she directly entered the Mountain Loop Track.

Wind howled past her ears; the dark red race car, with superb handling, drifted steadily through the bends; Zhou Yinhe could hardly control his breath, his side glance toward the calm and composed Wen Ling made him feel his heartbeat syncing with the car's speed, a thundering boom nearly deafening.

Until the car crossed the finish line, Zhou Yinhe gasped heavily, dazed, saying: "So exhilarating."

This was the first time he had ever felt such intense stimulation, something he had never experienced in his many years of racing.

The cars that had followed pulled up steadily to the side, all getting out; they had thought the driver was Zhou Yinhe, but it turned out to be Wen Ling who got out.

Qi Zhan took off his helmet, shook his head, and exclaimed in surprise: "How could you be the one driving?"

"Why can't I be the one driving?" Wen Ling's attitude toward him was cold, because Qi Zhan always gave her a cold face.

Qi Zhan was left speechless by Wen Ling's words, opening his mouth but still unable to continue speaking.

Zhou Yinhe slowly got out of the car, watching Wen Ling take off her helmet and tidy her hair on her own; he removed his own helmet, strode over, and tightly embraced the still‑reacting Wen Ling.

His arms trembled uncontrollably from excitement; Zhou Yinhe wished he could press her into his body, his eye sockets moist and slightly red, he hoarsely asked: "Do you know what kind of thought just arose in me?"

Wen Ling did not struggle, and asked softly: "What?"

"I was thinking, if the car had just rushed off the track, we would perish together, die for love, which would also be a kind of fulfillment."

After saying that, he lowered his head and buried his face in her neck; if Wen Ling weren't wearing the racing suit, she would surely feel the moisture welling up in his eyes.

Wen Ling felt no other emotion from his words; she smiled lightly, gripped his waist, and let him tremble as he held her.

The two clung together; after a while the others stood, got back into their cars, and several vehicles sped down the mountain, their roars rising and falling, echoing along the entire track.

Wen Ling let him hold her for a long time, then gently pushed him away.

"We should also head down the mountain."

Zhou Yinhe went with the motion, slightly loosening his grip, gazing at her delicate little face, then lowered his eyes and fiercely kissed her.

The two kissed on the mountaintop track where no one else was around, beside them only the dark red race car with its front lights lit.