The air around the track buzzed with the growl of engines and the smell of burnt rubber. Boys bragged loudly, girls laughed shrilly, and yet all of them kept stealing glances at the tall youth in the center—Zhu Jinyan.
He stood with casual arrogance, hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored jacket, his expression carved in indifference. He didn't need to raise his voice to command attention; his silence alone made the others lean in closer, eager to please him.
A sleek red Ferrari roared past on the track, and one of the boys couldn't resist flattering him.
"Brother Yan, when you take the wheel later, none of us will stand a chance. We may as well admit defeat now."
Zhu Jinyan smirked faintly, finally glancing up from his phone. His tone was lazy, but his words cut sharp.
"Defeat? You've been admitting defeat since the day you bought those second-hand toys and dared to call them sports cars."
Laughter erupted among the group, though some of the boys looked embarrassed.
Another chimed in quickly, "That's true, Brother Yan. None of us can compare to your Lamborghini Huracán. The engine alone makes ours look like bicycles."
Zhu Jinyan raised an eyebrow, then drawled, "Don't state the obvious. It's insulting."
A ripple of awkward chuckles followed. Even in mockery, no one dared to take offense.
At that moment, a girl in a shimmering silver dress glided closer, her every movement calculated to draw attention. Her voice was honey-sweet as she leaned slightly forward, eyes locked on Zhu Jinyan.
"Brother Yan, will you let me ride with you later? I promise I won't scream."
The crowd fell silent at her words. Tian Jia, pretending to be oblivious to the sudden stiffness in the air, reached out as if to brush against his arm. But Zhu Jinyan, without even glancing at her, stepped aside—his indifference sharper than any outright rejection.
His eyes finally slid to her, cold and unhurried. "Aren't you crossing your limits?"
The simple sentence, spoken with casual disdain, struck harder than any slap. Tian Jia's smile faltered, though she quickly forced it back, her pride not allowing a crack to show.
"Don't worry, Brother Yan," she said lightly, though her voice betrayed the faintest tremor. "I'll cheer for you from the stands. I know you'll definitely win."
She turned away with affected grace, forcing brightness into her expression as she addressed the crowd. "After my Brother Yan wins, drinks are on me! Everyone can drink to their heart's content!"
Half-hearted cheers broke out—awkward, strained. Some glanced at her with forced smiles, others looked away, clearly unsure whether to celebrate her gesture or ignore her entirely, just as Zhu Jinyan had done.
Standing off to the side, Li Weiqiang frowned. The girl was undeniably beautiful, her figure wrapped in luxury brands, every inch an heiress from a wealthy family. She looked radiant, refined, and utterly smitten with Zhu Jinyan. Then why… why did everyone look so uncomfortable?
He turned to the boy he had asked about Zhu Jinyan earlier. Lowering his voice, he asked, "What's going on here? Who is that stunning beauty? And why is Young Master Zhu treating her so coldly?"
The boy chuckled softly, his expression carrying a trace of amusement. "That's Tian Jia. She's the daughter of a provincial government official. She's been chasing Young Master Zhu for a long time, but… he's never shown the slightest interest. Still, she's persistent—stubborn, really."
Another youth nearby leaned in, adding with a smirk, "Persistent is putting it lightly. She's crazy. Last year, she actually transferred schools just to be closer to him. From her previous elite academy straight to Wuhan City No. 1 Middle School—same year, same class as Young Master Zhu."
The first boy continued, "Of course, Young Master Zhu never once acknowledged her as his girlfriend. But that hasn't stopped her. She's already spread rumors across the entire school that they're together. In her mind, the matter is settled."
"And she's possessive," the second boy said darkly. "Too possessive. She doesn't allow a single girl to get near him. Anyone who dares…" He paused meaningfully, letting the implication hang.
Li Weiqiang's brows knitted together. "What do you mean, anyone?"
The boy smirked, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Tian Jia isn't as harmless as she looks. She's got contacts with street thugs around Wuhan City No. 1 Middle School. Any girl foolish enough to get close to Young Master Zhu is… dealt with."
"Dealt with?" Li Weiqiang's voice dropped, edged with disbelief.
The youth's smile widened, cruel amusement in his eyes. "Some were disfigured. Others crippled. All made an example of."
Li Weiqiang's eyes widened, a chill creeping up his spine. Slowly, he turned back toward Tian Jia. She was standing there, still smiling sweetly at Zhu Jinyan, her eyes full of infatuation and devotion. To the unknowing, she looked like the very image of a young, radiant socialite in love.
But now, to him, that smile concealed something far darker—a streak of cruelty that sent a shiver down his back.
Zhu Jinyan merely sneered but chose not to waste his words. Instead, he turned back to his group, his tone dripping with arrogance as he drawled,
"Let's get this race started already. I don't have all day—I've got other things planned later."
The boys immediately nodded, eager to please him. Yet, just as they were about to mount their beasts of steel and fire, something wholly unexpected unfolded
---
At the main entrance of the Grand Ascot Club.
Few bulky guards stood on either side of the towering wrought-iron gates, their broad frames casting shadows in the glow of the security lamps. They had been trained to spot trouble, but here—at one of Wuhan's most exclusive establishments—they usually dealt only with millionaires and heirs flashing their invitations or cards.
A service car rolled to a stop at the curb. The door opened, and out stepped the club's manager, wiping at his forehead, his breathing unsteady as if he had rushed here.
"Manager Xu," the guards greeted in unison, their backs straightening instantly.
Manager Xu didn't waste a second on pleasantries. His gaze darted anxiously toward the entrance as he asked in a low but hurried voice, "Tell me, has a girl—around fifteen, maybe sixteen—come by just now? Someone trying to get in?"
The guards exchanged puzzled looks before shaking their heads. "No, sir. No such girl has appeared."
Relief washed across Manager Xu's features, and he exhaled slowly, as though a great weight had been lifted. "Good. Very good." He nodded, half to himself.
One of the guards frowned slightly, curiosity pricking him. "Manager, if you don't mind me asking… is someone special expected today?"
But Xu immediately stiffened and waved a hand. "No. Nothing like that. Just remember this—if any girl like that shows up, don't let her in. Make her wait outside and call me at once. Understood?"
All guards nodded sharply, though confusion lingered in their eyes. Orders were orders.
Xu turned back toward his car, still unsettled. Even as he opened the door, his mind gnawed at the absurdity of it all. Why would the higher-ups care so much about humiliating a fifteen-year-old girl? What threat could a child pose to this place? It felt ridiculous, yet the instructions had been clear, and in his position, disobedience was not an option.
Just as he placed one foot inside the car, a thunderous roar split the air.
A sleek engine growled from the road beyond the gate, its sound raw and commanding, the kind that made people instinctively turn their heads. The very ground seemed to vibrate with its power. All the guards instantly snapped to attention, stepping forward to assume their positions. Their eyes narrowed, prepared to demand a membership card from the incoming vehicle.
Even Xu, who had been seconds away from leaving, froze. Slowly, almost against his will, he glanced back over his shoulder.
The deep-throated roar of the engine sharpened as the car approached, until its sleek silhouette glided into view beneath the floodlit archway. A Bugatti Veyron 16.4—polished to an obsidian sheen, its curves gleaming like liquid midnight—rolled to a halt before the iron gates of the Grand Ascot Club.
The guards stiffened instinctively. They were accustomed to wealth: Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Bentleys—such cars came and went daily. But this… this was different. An exclusive, limited-edition Veyron was a rarity even here.
And then they saw it—the plate.
A single digit.
8.
Silver embossed against black, catching the entrance lights like a crown jewel.
The men exchanged startled glances. Even Manager Xu, who had been prepared to sneer, froze for a heartbeat. His chest tightened. Clients of this caliber were not everyday visitors. Forcing composure, he smoothed his jacket, pasted on a respectful smile, and hurried forward with a slight bow.
The driver's window slid down with a discreet hum, revealing Butler Yao, immaculately dressed in a tailored suit. His expression was calm, distant, carrying the faint chill of old-world refinement.
"My miss is here to meet someone," he said evenly.
The lead guard swallowed, adjusting his stance. His voice, though cautious, carried the firmness of protocol:
"I understand, sir. But this is a private club. A membership card is required."
Manager Xu immediately stepped in, his sycophantic smile stretching wider. "Please don't take it personally, sir. It's standard procedure."
Butler Yao's brows knit faintly. He turned toward the passenger seat.
"Miss, do you happen to have the membership card with you?"
From within the car, the girl stirred.
Li Ziqing lifted her gaze, her delicate features composed yet faintly displeased. "This is my first time here," she said softly. "I don't have any card, but…" Her words trailed off as memory stirred.
Miss Li, call me once you arrive at the club.
Zhou Yichen's voice echoed in her mind. Without hesitation, she slipped a slender hand into her purse and retrieved her phone, scrolling with serene composure as though the situation were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Outside, the guards exchanged uncertain glances. Their frowns deepened as they caught the words first time. Manager Xu, too, faltered when his eyes landed on the passenger seat.
A girl. Fifteen, perhaps sixteen at most.
For an instant his polished smile cracked, a faint frown ghosting across his features before he forced it back into place. But inside, his thoughts churned.
Her? Could it be… the one?
Cold sweat prickled his forehead. The order he had received earlier struck him like a hammer: If a girl around fifteen tries to enter, stop her. Humiliate her. Do not let her through.
But how could this girl be the same target?
A limited-edition Bugatti Veyron, worth more than thirty million yuan. A single-digit license plate that alone could buy a skyscraper. A butler whose very bearing screamed lineage and privilege.
How could this possibly be the "nobody" he had been instructed to disgrace?
Inside the car, Li Ziqing pressed the phone to her ear, brows knitting ever so slightly. The line failed again. No matter how many times she redialed, Zhou Yichen did not pick up. A flicker of impatience crossed her face, though she remained composed. Sliding the phone back into her purse, she turned her gaze toward Manager Xu, who was standing stiffly just beyond the window.
"How about this," she said in a voice as clear and unhurried as flowing water. "You let us through. The person I am here to meet is already waiting inside. If you have doubts, you can follow me to the meeting spot yourself."
Her tone was neither pleading nor arrogant—it carried a quiet authority that made Manager Xu's pulse falter. He blinked rapidly, snapped out of his daze, and opened his mouth to reply.
But before he could, one of the guards stepped forward, his boots crunching against the gravel as he deliberately planted himself in front of the Bugatti's gleaming hood. His eyes narrowed with false bravado.
"If you don't have a membership card, I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to leave," he declared, puffing his chest. "This place is reserved exclusively for members."
A shiver of unease ran through the group. The other guards stiffened. Manager Xu's face turned ashen, his lips twitching. Everyone here knew the instructions he had given earlier—stop the girl, humiliate her. Yet standing before such a car, such a plate number, such a bearing, none of them had dared move.
Except this one.
Butler Yao's eyes narrowed faintly, though his expression remained composed. When he spoke, his voice was low and clipped, every syllable carrying the weight of centuries-old refinement.
"Watch your words. My miss is not someone you have the right to question."
The guard sneered, emboldened by his own ignorance. "Such an expensive car, yet no membership card to the Grand Ascot Club? Don't tell me you're one of those fake socialites—renting flashy cars, putting on a show online, coming here just to rub shoulders with the real rich?"
His voice dripped with mockery, each word louder, more biting. The other guards shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between him and Manager Xu. Even Manager Xu felt his knees weaken. Fake socialites? Was this fool suicidal?
But inside the Bugatti, there was no ripple of anger. Butler Yao's expression remained carved from stone. Li Ziqing sat perfectly still, her gaze calm, her posture unyielding—as though his insults could not even reach her.
Only when the guard finished his little tirade did she finally lower her lashes, as if granting him a fleeting acknowledgment. But her words, when they came, were not directed at him at all.
"Manager," she said lightly, her voice cutting through the night air like a silver blade. "I would like to purchase a membership card. Let's say… ten million yuan. Right now."
The words fell with a weight that silenced the courtyard.
Manager Xu's heart thudded so hard he thought it might burst. He knew with absolute certainty that neither this car nor that plate could possibly be rented. And no true aristocratic household would send their young miss out with a counterfeit butler. This was no fake socialite. This was the real thing—an existence far beyond his reach.
He opened his mouth, desperate to smooth things over, but before a sound could escape, the offending guard barked a laugh, his arrogance flickering under the shadow of unease. "Don't you know? Membership here can't be bought. It's by invitation only."
Li Ziqing did not so much as glance at him. Her lips curved faintly. "Fifty million yuan."
The guard faltered. His voice caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard before forcing a scoff. "D-Don't you understand? I said… it cannot be bought!"
"Then one hundred million yuan," Li Ziqing replied, her tone unchanged—steady, unhurried, as though she were merely commenting on the weather.
The words struck like thunder. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Manager Xu's legs nearly gave out beneath him. His vision blurred at the edges, and he thought he might faint then and there. Stumbling forward, he raised both hands in panic. "Miss, please—please, take it easy! It is not about money. Allow me to ask my superiors. This matter must not be handled carelessly."
Then he spun on his heel, his polite facade shattered. His eyes blazed as they locked onto the reckless guard. "You!" he barked. "Get lost. And do not let me see your face again."
The guard froze, his mouth opening in disbelief. "Manager Xu, didn't you say—"
"I said get lost!" Manager Xu snapped, cutting him off coldly.
The man's face darkened, but he dared not argue further. Still confused, he turned and stalked away into the shadows, his pride in tatters, after all he only did all this to please manager Xu, since he is here on notice period.
Butler Yao's expression never changed, though his gaze lingered on the retreating guard for a long, cold moment. Then, slowly, he turned his eyes back to Manager Xu. That single, glacial glance was enough to make the man's knees tremble.
Li Ziqing caught the exchange and, with a faint smile, gave her butler a reassuring nod. Only then did the tension in the air ease. Yet the moment Butler Yao's watchful gaze turned elsewhere, the smile faded from her lips. Her expression shifted, thoughtful and cool.
So this is what Zhou Yichen meant when he called that friend of his 'weird'…
The Grand Ascot Club was hardly the sort of place one arranged a casual meeting, let alone with someone of her age. An odd venue for a "friendly introduction." The more she pieced it together, the clearer it became—something was wrong. Very wrong.
Her lips curved into a smirk, sharp and knowing.
---
On the other side, Manager Xu's palms were slick with sweat, his shirt collar suddenly suffocating. He knew he couldn't delay reporting this any longer.
His hands shook slightly as he pulled out his phone and stepped away from the gleaming Bugatti.
The line clicked, and a deep, steady voice resonated on the other end.
"Manager Xu. Why are you calling at this hour?"
Xu swallowed hard, his throat dry. He bowed instinctively, though no one could see him.
"Mr. Gao… I—I beg your pardon for disturbing you, but there is something I must tell you. Something… unusual."
The man on the other end said nothing. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, pressing Xu to continue.
He glanced back toward the Veyron and said, "There was an order earlier… to stop a young girl if she tried to enter. To humiliate her. But—Mr. Gao, she…" Xu's hand tightened around the phone and he said everything what happened, his back damp with sweat. "I—I thought it was some nobody, sir. A joke, even. But now… I don't dare move without your word."
The line crackled faintly, then the deep voice spoke—calm, but edged with steel.
"Who gave you such ridiculous orders?"
Manager Xu's knees nearly gave way. He bent instinctively, his voice trembling.
"I-It was the general manager here, sir. I was only following orders."
Then, as if a thought struck him, he added hurriedly, "In fact… the instruction originally came from Young Master Ruan. He was here earlier, and this young lady—she is here to meet him. Since Young Master Ruan is a friend of President Shen, we didn't dare to disobey."
A silence followed. Heavy. Measured.
When the voice returned, it was cold enough to chill Xu's bones. "Let her in—for now. I'll be at the club within half an hour."
The line went dead before Xu could stammer another word.
For a long moment, Manager Xu stood frozen, staring at the darkened phone in his hand, his pulse hammering. Only after several shallow breaths did he compose himself, smoothing his jacket before striding back to the car.
He bowed low, forcing his tone into something polite and steady. "You may enter the club, Miss. My deepest apologies for disturbing your experience. My superior will be arriving personally to discuss this matter with you. The person you're seeking is waiting near the racing arena's VIP lounge. A service van will escort you there."
Inside the Bugatti, Li Ziqing didn't bother to return his bow. Her lips curled into a faint, disdainful sneer, and without sparing Manager Xu a glance, she murmured,
"Butler Yao, drive."
The Veyron glided forward, its low growl leaving the guards and Xu standing stiffly in its wake.
Only after they had driven a short distance behind the service van did Butler Yao finally speak, his tone low, cautious.
"Miss, this is… strange. If this meeting had truly been arranged in advance, how could such a thing occur?"
Li Ziqing's eyes flickered with quiet amusement. She rested her chin lightly against her hand, gazing out at the neon lights streaking across the tinted glass.
"I know. I have my own suspicions."
Her smirk deepened, the kind that carried both confidence and calculation.
"But don't worry, Butler Yao. Whatever trap they think they've set, I'll handle it on my own."
The butler inclined his head respectfully, suppressing his unease. "As you wish, Miss."
He tightened his grip on the wheel as he focused on following the service van deeper in the club.
---
On the far side of the Grand Ascot Club, within one of the administrative buildings, Shen Zeyan sat behind a mahogany desk, reviewing a stack of documents. His refined features, though undeniably handsome, were shadowed with fatigue. The relentless demands of school, grandpa Mu's therapy sessions, and the weight of his company affairs had kept him running on little to no sleep for nearly a month.
Ever since his smartphone prototype had been rejected during regulatory inspection, the burden had only grown heavier. Though he had instructed Gao Shun to seek out companies with ready-made prototypes for potential collaboration, the search had proven fruitless. No domestic firm had yet ventured seriously into smartphones—flip phones and keypad models still dominated the market. It was then that Shen Zeyan realized just how stagnant and saturated China's mobile industry had become.
Now, his thoughts turned toward foreign collaborations. Gao Shun had managed to gather a handful of proposals, but none had met Shen Zeyan's high standards. With an impatient sigh, he flung another document into the trash bin, his long fingers pressing against his temple as frustration gnawed at him. Just as he reached for the next file, the door burst open and Gao Shun rushed inside.
Shen Zeyan's brows knit together. His voice was cool but laced with irritation. "What is it now?"
Gao Shun bowed slightly, his tone deferential yet urgent. "Young Master Shen, I just received a call from Manager Xu at the club. He reported that Young Master Ruan instructed the staff to 'teach a lesson' to a young girl. The staff, regrettably, complied with such a reckless demand. But now…" He hesitated briefly, measuring his words. "Manager Xu says the girl appears anything but ordinary. She has openly declared her willingness to spend one hundred million yuan on a membership card."
Shen Zeyan leaned back in his chair, his expression hardening. "So?" he asked coldly.
Gao Shun continued carefully, his voice low and respectful. "Young master Shen, it is highly unusual for anyone in Wuhan to casually offer such an astronomical sum. It suggests she may be someone of considerable influence. Offending her could have… unintended consequences."
Disgust flickered across Shen Zeyan's eyes, sharp and dismissive. He rose abruptly, his tall figure radiating an aura of quiet authority.
"And who exactly does Ruan Zeyuan think he is? To issue commands in my club as though it were his playground?" His tone was calm, but each word dripped with disdain.
"Young Master Shen," Gao Shun quickly interjected, bowing again. "Please rest assured. I will personally see to the matter and ensure the young lady receives proper compensation. You need not concern yourself with the details."
But Shen Zeyan waved a hand, his voice edged with arrogance and resolve.
"No. I'll deal with this myself." He straightened his cufflinks, his eyes narrowing. "That Ruan Zeyuan has been clamoring for an audience with me for some time now. Very well—if he's so eager, let him face me directly. But to create such a disgraceful scene in my establishment…" He let the sentence trail off, the weight of his displeasure filling the room.
With that, he strode toward the door, every step deliberate and commanding. Gao Shun silently fell in line behind him, knowing better than to question his master further.