Chapter 35

“That’s it?”

Ji Yangyang stood with arms crossed in the race track’s rest area, watching He Chen’s wobbly driving; with absolute confidence, his tone grew increasingly dismissive and contemptuous.

He imagined the scene where He Chen, after losing, would publicly call himself a turtle and a bastard during morning assembly, and the smile on his lips refused to fade.

“Today’s youth really…” Ji Yangyang’s uncle chuckled and shook his head, but then his laughter died—he stared in disbelief at He Chen, who was steadily mastering the go-kart on the track.

Because if the first lap was pure beginner-level, by the second lap He Chen was already driving with clear competence.

By the third lap, his skill had visibly skyrocketed.

“Yangyang, start the race!” Ji Yangyang’s uncle immediately urged his nephew; seeing his nephew still dazed, he grabbed him and dragged him over, directly stopping He Chen, who was preparing to continue practicing.

“Are you racing or not?”

His sister and brother-in-law had always opposed his nephew’s refusal to study and obsession with cars; though he didn’t oppose it either, he knew his nephew could enjoy racing as a hobby, but at this age aspiring to go professional was pure fantasy.

If this loss could teach him a lesson and make him face reality, it wouldn’t be all bad.

But he also knew young people valued their pride—if He Chen defeated him this way, forcing him to confront his true level passively, it would be too cruel.

He feared his nephew couldn’t handle it.

So seeing He Chen’s astonishing growth rate—either he was a prodigy, or he was pretending to be weak—he absolutely could not let He Chen keep practicing.

Otherwise, who knew how many more laps it would take before He Chen’s skill surged past his nephew’s?

“Then let’s begin!” He Chen, having completed three laps and fully mastered how the go-kart handled, had no fear of competition and accepted immediately.

Seeing this, Ji Yangyang could not possibly back down; already fully geared up, he stepped onto his own dedicated go-kart and pulled up beside He Chen’s.

“Since it’s a race, let Deng Xiaoqi be the starter!” He Chen interrupted as Ji Yangyang’s uncle prepared to act as starter, calling out to Deng Xiaoqi, who had come along to watch the spectacle.

Deng Xiaoqi, thrilled to have a central role, sprinted forward and took up her position as starter girl.

After all, who hadn’t seen Fast & Furious?

A beautiful starter girl before a race was standard.

This was even He Chen’s own suggestion—heard by her, it was the highest compliment; she could already imagine how, after word spread, countless girls—including her best friend Lin Miaomiao—would envy, resent, and hate her.

Perfect!

Absolutely perfect!

Still, though ecstatic, she was just a high school girl from China and could never mimic the seductive, provocative gestures of the starter girls in Fast & Furious; suppressing the urge to sing and dance for He Chen, she performed her role with proper, restrained professionalism.

The two cars shot forward, one behind the other.

She squinted—and saw He Chen’s car in the lead, far ahead; her heart leapt with joy.

“Incredible reaction speed!” Ji Yangyang’s uncle was startled; his sense of foreboding grew stronger.

This high schooler who dared challenge his nephew might truly be a genius—this was trouble.

Behind He Chen’s car, Ji Yangyang was also surprised; for some reason, he recalled the first time he met He Chen—he’d been trailing behind He Chen’s car, honked, and He Chen’s companion Lin Miaomiao nearly fell off her bicycle; though He Chen rode ahead, he’d seemed to have eyes in the back, casually yet swiftly and precisely grabbing her handlebars to steady her.

And when he charged forward to hit He Chen, he hadn’t even seen how He Chen moved before collapsing in agonizing pain… Could He Chen really know martial arts?

Impossible!

How could this be possible!

But if he truly had martial arts, with superhuman hearing, vision, and body control, wouldn’t that hardware alone make him a prodigy at anything he tried?

Ji Yangyang’s mind flashed with these strange thoughts, yet he wasn’t overly worried—the track was long, with many sharp turns; early reaction speed and a lead didn’t guarantee victory. He quickly suppressed his distractions, fixing his gaze on He Chen ahead, searching for an opening to overtake.

But something he couldn’t accept happened: He Chen, who had never been here before and had only completed three laps, seemed to know this track intimately—no mistakes, no slip-ups, maintaining a steady lead, giving Ji Yangyang zero chance to overtake.

Even when the race ended, he couldn’t accept the result; watching He Chen remove his helmet and gesture at him with the landlady’s finger-wagging motion, then hearing He Chen speak, he finally snapped.

"Reading has no barriers—you can't do it! Racing removes all barriers—and you still can't do it!"

“You false-started!” Ji Yangyang couldn’t accept the outcome of being useless at everything; after all, that meant his lifelong belief—that reading was useless, that he had grand ambitions, that he was superior and proud, that he pursued higher dreams—was nothing but a joke.

He couldn’t bear the humiliation of having to shout three times in public, “I am a race car driver!”—so he had to find an excuse.

And once he voiced the excuse, regardless of whether others believed it, he himself believed it.

Because this must be the truth.

If He Chen hadn’t false-started, how could someone who had spent years here, confident in his skills to join professional racing, possibly lose?

"Unwilling to accept defeat?" He Chen raised an eyebrow and gestured to Ji Yangyang with a finger: "Then race again!"

“Fine, let’s race!” Ji Yangyang, though repulsed by the gesture, eagerly accepted—it gave him a chance for a comeback.

If he won this time, everything would be worth it!

He had plenty of words ready for He Chen then.

He would return this humiliation tenfold!

"Deng Xiaoqi, could you help me again?" He Chen called her once more as the starter; one challenge wasn't enough—two, then three, until Ji Yangyang was utterly defeated and forced to admit defeat.

With his mastery of two martial arts techniques granted by the system—techniques bordering on superpowers—even though this was his first time on a race track, he would only make Ji Yangyang, a mediocre talent, grow more and more despairing with each round.

And so it proved.

In the second round, when the starter signal sounded, he did not exploit his lightning-fast reaction to false-start; he let Ji Yangyang go first, then executed a flawless overtake on the curve.

When he won again, leading once more, Ji Yangyang’s face twisted in disbelief; he muttered under his breath: “Impossible… this can’t be…”

"Unwilling to accept defeat? Then again!" He Chen smiled faintly.

“Fine, let’s go!” Ji Yangyang shouted, eyes red.

He simply could not accept this result.

He was destined to be the second Han Han—he’d spent years striving for this dream—how could he lose to someone who’d never raced before?

If he couldn’t even win once… what would he become?

This terrified Ji Yangyang’s uncle—he realized He Chen was an absolute genius.

In the first round, he’d relied on quick reaction to false-start.

In the second, he’d executed several stunning overtakes on curves, even using drifts.

His control over the car grew stronger with each round; if they kept racing, he’d soon unleash techniques worthy of the Qiumingshan Drift King—drifting, cornering, all of it.

If his nephew continued, he’d only grow more humiliated, suffering deeper blows.