After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 28

As Jing Feizuo parked, her fingers trembled slightly.

Xia Lin’s solo applause was as loud as a full cheerleading squad. Wen Jin stood beside her, but didn’t clap; Jing Feizuo only noticed the crumpled water bottle in her hand.

Wen Jin, still radiating heat, removed her helmet, shook her hair, and asked Xia Lin, “How was that speed?”

“You didn’t push my baby to her full potential, but it was more than enough to crush Black Panther and his crew.”

Wen Jin turned to Xia Lin. “When’s the race?”

Xia Lin blinked, surprised by the sudden question. “This afternoon. The Black Panther Club will be here. It’s a public track.”

Wen Jin nodded, saying nothing more.

That afternoon, as the Black Panther Club’s racing team roared onto the track, Wen Jin and Jing Feizuo were discussing their return to China, while Xia Lin glared at their clingy behavior from the sidelines.

Six modified go-karts, painted matte black with aggressive leopard-print decals, looked ostentatious.

The lead driver removed his helmet, revealing bleached white hair.

He glanced at the three people standing beside the track and nodded toward Wen Jin. “Xia Lin, is this your ‘secret weapon’?”

Jing Feizuo, completely ignored, was speechless.

Jing Feizuo scoffed softly, her voice low but audible to everyone present. “If you’re desperate to be beaten by someone who’s never driven a kart before, go ahead and choose her as your opponent. But your resume already boasts the glorious achievement of being a full minute behind Alex. Xia Lin couldn’t bear to add another embarrassment to your record.”

Jing Feizuo raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to thank her?”

Xia Lin stifled a laugh. Jing Feizuo’s cutting remarks were as striking as her art.

White Hair’s face darkened instantly, his sore spot hit.

“You think I lost to Alex? Long hair, short on brains. Have you even considered Alex’s background? It’s not that I lost to her—I lost to the class privilege behind her.”

“Oh. So losing to a female driver and a female designer’s car means you lost to class privilege?” Xia Lin turned to Xia Lin, her voice perfectly measured. “Can people with brain problems even drive?”

Xia Lin chimed in, “It’s hard to say, but he’d make a great case study for the Academy of Sciences.”

A vein bulged on White Hair’s forehead as he sized up Jing Feizuo’s slender frame. “Do you even know what G-force is? Can you tell the difference between the brake and the accelerator? You’re pretty enough, but you’d be better off going home and having babies. The kitchen is your racetrack.”

Ooh, someone’s triggered.

Jing Feizuo shrugged at Wen Jin. “Is anyone planning our future child’s career? Should we have the Academy of Sciences study him?”

Meanwhile, Wen Jin recalled Jing Feizuo’s disastrous kitchen incidents and remarked, “This is the first time anyone’s ever said you belong in the kitchen.”

The pre-race trash talk had escalated to personal attacks. Jing Feizuo, tired of arguing with White Hair, realized that some people’s sole purpose in life was to make others appreciate the beauty of the “block” button.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a block button right now. She simply turned and walked straight toward the garage.

This blatant disregard infuriated White Hair even more.

“Bark after the race,” Xia Lin said, blocking the enraged White Hair. “If you lose, remember to post the results all over the internet and admit that neither your car nor your skills can match ours.”

White Hair was so furious his hair nearly caught fire. “First, get ready to kneel and polish my car.”

Wen Jin spoke calmly, but her words landed like a bombshell: “Let’s add another condition to the bet. If you lose, the Black Panther Club’s registration to use the SG Track will be permanently revoked.”

White Hair’s expression froze.

Not just White Hair, but even Xia Lin was stunned by Wen Jin’s demand.

The Black Panther Club was a moderately well-known club, but they lacked their own facilities and relied entirely on their partnership with the SG Track for operations. Severing ties with SG would be akin to cutting off their lifeline.

White Hair was about to unleash a torrent of curses when someone rushed up from behind and whispered in his ear.

He shot Wen Jin a meaningful glance, then forced down his anger and asked, “And if we win?”

“I’ll give you a track identical in specifications to SG.”

The crowd erupted in a frenzy. Every member of the Black Panther Club began breathing heavily.

“Deal,” White Hair said.

The referee waved the checkered flag.

On the starting line, six black go-karts surrounded Jing Feizuo’s car like cheetahs poised to strike. The stands were packed with spectators who had flocked to witness the spectacle.

As White Hair passed Jing Feizuo, he glanced at her and sneered, “Don’t come crying for your mommy later.”

“Don’t worry,” Jing Feizuo replied calmly, clicking her helmet visor shut. “I’ll make sure your tears have a rhythm to them.”

Wen Jin stood nearby, her fingers tightly twisting a water bottle, but her voice remained soft. “Just do your best, safety first. Win or lose, I’ll handle the aftermath.”

Jing Feizuo knew what Wen Jin meant by “handle the aftermath.” She shook her head, her voice muffled by the helmet. “Trust Xia Lin’s car. Now just sit back and watch the show, President Wen.”

Wen Jin smiled and stepped back behind the safety line, her lips forming words Jing Feizuo couldn’t hear through the distance and helmet. But she could read the shape of her mouth: “I’m always watching.”

The engines roared to life.

The moment the green light flashed, Jing Feizuo slammed her foot on the accelerator.

The seven race cars shot off the starting line like arrows from a bow. Xia Lin’s finely tuned machine surged forward like lightning on the straightaway, instantly leaving several black karts in its wake. Soon, only White Hair’s menacing figure loomed in her rearview mirror, his modified kart roaring at full throttle as he clung to her tail.

Entering the curve, Jing Feizuo precisely cut to the inside line, her tires scraping against the curb and sending a shower of sparks flying. White Hair was forced to take the outside line, but as they exited the turn, he suddenly accelerated, his car violently squeezing against hers.

Wen Jin stood outside the guardrail, her knuckles white from clenching her fists.

She watched as Jing Feizuo, at the last possible moment, sharply reversed her steering, her car sliding out of the encirclement at an almost impossible angle. Teetering on the edge of speed and danger, she drove with unrestrained ferocity, leaving nothing in reserve. Then, White Hair suddenly rammed her from the side, sending Jing Feizuo’s car veering violently, nearly colliding with the guardrail.

Wen Jin’s heart leaped in her chest. She instinctively took a step forward, but a staff member blocked her path.

Her gaze remained fixed on the race car, watching as it teetered on the brink of losing control before suddenly righting itself. Like a nimble fish, it evaded the pursuit, using the momentum to seize an even better racing line.

Beside Wen Jin, Xia Lin exclaimed in surprise, “Actually, she could have played it safer.”

Noticing Wen Jin’s tense expression, Xia Lin quickly tempered her surprise. “Director Wen, don’t worry. The car’s limits are far from being reached. Jing Feizuo will keep it under control.”

Wen Jin didn’t respond, not even with a nod.

Though Jing Feizuo had ultimately regained control of her car, Wen Jin felt the sensation of impending loss surging like a tsunami, its waves towering dozens of meters high.

And there she stood alone beneath the crumbling wall of water.

Jing Feizuo had no need to take such risks, yet she had deliberately chosen the most reckless approach, as if relishing the thrill of flirting with death.

A long-dormant unease began to stir within Wen Jin’s heart.

She realized with growing clarity that even if she used her power to buy the entire SG Track, she still might not be able to keep the person currently racing across it.

On the final lap, Xia Lin’s car unleashed its full potential on the straightaway. The race car shot across the finish line like an arrow released from its bow, leaving Black Panther’s car far behind.

A thunderous roar of applause erupted from the stands.

Jing Feizuo released the steering wheel, her fingers numb from prolonged tension, a testament to the exhaustion that followed such intense focus.

The engine’s roar gradually subsided, leaving only the sound of her own ragged breathing and pounding heartbeat in her ears. She removed her helmet, her damp hair clinging to the nape of her neck, sweat trickling down her temples to pool at her chin before dripping onto the front of her racing suit.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she stepped out of the car, her legs trembling slightly. Only then did she fully grasp how fiercely she had pushed herself.

Wen Jin had somehow navigated through the crowd to reach the edge of the track. Holding a clean towel, she stood quietly to the side, a stark contrast to the surrounding frenzy of celebration.

She didn’t speak, only gently lifted Jing Feizuo’s chin and meticulously wiped away the sweat and rubber particles from her face with the towel.

Jing Feizuo felt dazed, letting Wen Jin tend to her. This feeling of being utterly cared for seemed to have unconsciously seeped into every crevice of their interactions.

“Had your fill of watching?” Jing Feizuo tried to break the oppressive silence between them with her usual tone. “Want to try it yourself?”

Wen Jin didn’t answer, only continued to gaze at her steadily, her hands never pausing in their task.

Jing Feizuo instinctively looked up, wanting to say more, but the moment her eyes met Wen Jin’s, she abruptly fell silent.

Those eyes were bottomless, overflowing with emotions too complex to decipher. Jing Feizuo felt that another glance would drown her in their depths.

A sudden, inexplicable tremor ran through her. Reason told her to avoid that overwhelming gaze, yet she felt bewitched, unable to tear her eyes away.

She was momentarily disoriented, suddenly feeling as if she stood on a precarious precipice. One step back would send her plummeting into an abyss.

And Wen Jin was waiting below, ready to catch her fall.

Before Jing Feizuo and Wen Jin boarded their flight back home, Xia Lin drove them to the airport. Even as they prepared to go through security, she was still enthusiastically recounting the details of what happened after the race.

“Before Black Panther and his crew slunk away, White Hair was still ranting about how our car must have been cheating,” Xia Lin said, her tone like she was telling an absurd joke. “As if he hadn’t been the one mocking women for not understanding car design!”

Jing Feizuo sincerely patted her friend’s shoulder. “Dealing with people like that must have been exhausting.”

“Well, thanks to Director Wen’s added conditions, they won’t be able to survive here,” Xia Lin grinned. “Of course, if Director Wen could sponsor my racing team in the future, I’d truly be free of all the hassle.”

“That’s possible,” Wen Jin agreed expressionlessly, “provided you stop racing cars with Jing Feizuo.”

“I can’t control her thoughts,” Xia Lin laughed, waving goodbye. “Safe travels!”