"Morning!"
After throwing out the word with gritted teeth, Ji Chengling turned away and dialed Zheng Lingkun's number again.
The phone was connected, but he could never get through.
Asking the team members, they all said they hadn't seen Zheng Lingkun since noon the day before.
The joyous cheers of the fans, the encouraging shouts of the cheerleaders, filled the air with various noises and commotion.
Ji Chengling forcibly suppressed the unease in his heart.
Just past ten o'clock, twelve race cars gathered at the track.
The starting order was determined by drawing lots at sign-in.
Ji Chengling was lucky; he drew number 2.
From a distance of several dozen meters, he spotted the black race car beneath the starting point's display screen.
That seemed to be… W's chariot?
Ji Chengling was delighted.
Four years ago, in the Lucheng race, he was also among those who lost to W's driver.
