The roar of engines filled the race track as Zhu Jinyan and his friends prepared to start the night's race. Just as they were waring their protective gares, a sharp gasp cut through the noise.
"Oh my god… look over there! That's a Bugatti Veyron 16.4!"
The words fell like a spark into a pool of gasoline. In an instant, every head whipped toward the sleek silhouette rolling towards the VIP stand.
What they saw left them speechless.
A midnight-black Bugatti Veyron 16.4 glided forward, its polished surface gleaming under the floodlights like a predator emerging from the shadows. The low, guttural hum of its W16 engine rumbled across the arena, carrying with it an aura of unrivaled dominance.
A stunned silence settled for a heartbeat, then the whispers erupted.
"Unbelievable… that's the real thing?"
"God, it's gorgeous… like a beast in disguise."
"There are only two of these in all of China! This must be one of them!"
"But what is doing here in Wuhan?"
"Exactly I never heard someone owning this in Wuhan"
Even the most seasoned car enthusiasts among them looked as though they were seeing a divine apparition. Li Weiqiang, usually arrogant and loud, found himself staring in naked envy. His lips trembled as he muttered, half to himself, half to the crowd, "Am I dreaming? This… this is really a Bugatti Veyron 16.4?"
Beside him, Su Jin let out a low whistle, unable to contain his awe.
"I knew the Grand Ascot Club was extravagant, but this… this is beyond imagination. To think my very first visit here, I'd get to see a monster like this with my own eyes."
Excitement rippled through the crowd like a wave. Some were shouting, others practically vibrating with adrenaline.
"I'm in love with this car already!"
"Do you realize this beast hits zero to one hundred kilometers per hour in just two and a half seconds?"
"And its top speed—over four hundred kilometers per hour!"
Another voice broke in, incredulous.
"Oh my god… so this is that car? The legend?"
A more knowledgeable onlooker added breathlessly,
"You don't know the half of it. When Bugatti launched this model, an oil tycoon's son tried to buy one no matter the price. Do you know what the company told him? No exceptions. All one hundred and twenty units had already been reserved. Not a single car left unsold. That's how rare this is."
The revelation left everyone reeling. Their awe now mixed with a sharper curiosity—who could possibly be driving such a masterpiece into Wuhan tonight?
All eyes began searching the track for answers until someone finally turned to Zhu Jinyan.
"Young Master Zhu… is this someone you know?"
"Yes," another chimed in eagerly, "did you invite a challenger to race with us? Someone at your level?"
Dozens of eyes settled on him, expectant and questioning.
For a brief moment, even Zhu Jinyan's composure cracked. He too was mesmerized by the sight of the Bugatti. As a self-proclaimed supercar fanatic, he had once fantasized about owning the Veyron himself, but the dream had never materialized. With only one hundred and twenty in existence—and a sales process riddled with politics and privilege—even for him, it had been unattainable. And now, to see one here, in the flesh, on this racetrack—it was both thrilling and humiliating.
Still, he quickly masked his astonishment beneath a sneer. His voice cut through the chatter, cool and disdainful.
"If you're so desperate to know, why don't you go and ask the owner yourselves?"
With that, he pivoted sharply, striding back toward his Lamborghini with a dismissive air. But deep inside, his curiosity burned hotter than anyone's.
Just as Zhu Jinyan reached his Lamborghini, another sharp cry rose above the chatter.
"Look—it's Li Ziqing!"
The name hit him like a thunderclap. His steps faltered, his body stiffening mid-stride. For a moment he thought he'd misheard, but when the murmurs spread through the crowd, when every curious gaze shifted toward the Bugatti, his heart lurched violently in his chest.
Li Ziqing.
The girl who had haunted him ever since last year.
Memories he thought he had buried clawed their way back to the surface—raw, bitter, and humiliating. He remembered that afternoon in the school canteen, his palms clammy, his throat dry as he forced himself to walk up to her. It had taken every shred of courage he had to confess in front of hundreds of students. For the first time in his life, he had bared himself to someone.
And she had cried.
She hadn't just refused him—she had fled. Tears streaking her face, she had run from the canteen as though he were some monster. The roar of laughter that followed still rang in his ears. His humiliation had been absolute. By the end of the day, the entire school was whispering, mocking, jeering. His rivals had rejoiced in his downfall. And then Li Zian, her overprotective brother, had stormed in, fists flying, branding him as a bully because she claimed he had bullied her. That beating, that disgrace, had etched itself into his bones.
For weeks, he had wanted to destroy her, to strip away that untouchable aura and make her suffer as he had. But every time he faced her again, his resolve melted. The sight of her lowered lashes, her quiet smile, the very presence of her made his anger crumble into something far more dangerous. He couldn't bring himself to harm her. In the end, he had forbidden anyone from even mentioning her name in his presence, as though erasing her from his world could erase his shame.
And yet, here she was.
Stepping out of a midnight-black Bugatti Veyron 16.4.
His chest burned with something he couldn't name—jealousy, fury, disbelief all tangled together. Was she… with someone else? Some mysterious man who could afford what even he, Zhu Jinyan, had never managed to obtain? The thought twisted like a knife.
Did she reject me back then because she already had her eyes on someone better? Someone richer?
His mind snarled with the possibility, his pride bleeding. How could Li Ziqing, the girl who had always seemed so reserved, so untouched by the noise of the world, arrive here like this? Dazzling, aloof, riding in a car rarer than gold?
His hands clenched at his sides. A storm brewed inside him—half of him screaming to whirl around, to confront her, to demand answers, while the other half whispered in aching denial.
No… she wouldn't. She couldn't.
Li Weiqiang stood rooted to the spot, his face paling as though he had just seen a ghost.
"L–Li Ziqing? H-how can she… how can she be here?" he murmured under his breath, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Ever since his father revealed the truth about Li Ziqing and her mother's assets that very afternoon, the thought had been gnawing at him, driving him nearly insane. But when he had first stepped into the Grand Ascot Club earlier tonight, a perverse sense of relief had consoled him—so what if she had money? So what if she had assets? She would never have the pedigree to set foot inside a place like this. A girl like her had no right to stand among the elite, much less bask in their recognition.
And yet, here she was—arriving in a midnight-black Bugatti Veyron 16.4, a spectacle of wealth and prestige that silenced every doubt.
Su Jin's brows furrowed sharply. His gaze snapped to Li Weiqiang, suspicion blazing in his eyes like a blade.
"What the hell is this?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Didn't you say your cousin wasn't coming? And that car—" He jerked his chin toward the Bugatti, his lips curling with contempt. "That's not just some ride you rent for show. Where did she get it? Didn't you tell me she was a slum rat? A nobody living off scraps? Then explain to me how in the world she's pulling up to the Grand Ascot in that."
Li Weiqiang's throat tightened. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling.
"B-boss, I… she… I don't know…" The words collapsed uselessly in his mouth.
Su Jin leaned closer, his sneer widening into something cruel, almost wolfish. His voice dropped, cold enough to send a chill straight through Weiqiang's spine.
"You don't know?" He chuckled darkly, the sound dripping with malice. "What am I supposed to believe then, hm? That you've been playing me for a fool? Maybe you arranged this—secretly calling your gorgeous little cousin here so you could hand her over to Young Master Zhu. Is that it? Trying to worm your way into his good graces behind my back?"
Panic flashed in Li Weiqiang's eyes. He shook his head violently, his face ghostly pale. "No! Boss, never! I wouldn't dare deceive you—I swear on my life! I didn't even know she was coming. How could I have planned this?"
Su Jin's smile twisted, sharp as broken glass. He tapped Weiqiang lightly on the cheek, mockingly tender. "You better pray you're telling me the truth. Because if I find out you've been scheming behind me…" His tone dropped to a whisper, colder than steel. "Even your father's position won't protect you."
Weiqiang's knees nearly buckled, his palms clammy with sweat. He wanted to protest further, but the words died in his throat.
But Su Jin ignored him completely. Instead, his attention shifted, his lips curling into a sycophantic smile as he turned toward Zhu Jinyan, who stood stiff and silent, his back rigid against the tense air.
"Young Master Zhu," Su Jin purred, his tone oily, reverent. He gestured grandly toward the entrance, where murmurs still rippled in waves. "Look over there. That's the girl I wanted to tell you about—the one I wished to present to you. My little gift. See of you like it."
His laugh was smug, mocking.
"She's nothing special, really. Just the cousin of one of my sidekicks—obedient, pliant, the kind who wouldn't dare resist. And you—handsome, rich, unmatched—how could she possibly say no? A woman like her should be honored to even—"
The words died unfinished.
Zhu Jinyan hadn't moved, but the very air around him shifted—growing colder, heavier, as if the world itself braced for something violent. His chest constricted, a suffocating weight pressing down, while Su Jin's vulgar words twisted through his mind like poisoned barbs.
Gift her?
Obedient?
Pliant?
The girl who had once made his heart race, the only girl who had ever made him believe in something more than pride and rivalry, reduced to a vulgar commodity?
His jaw tightened, veins standing out in his neck. His hands curled into fists so tightly his knuckles whitened. For months he had buried the memory of her—her rejection, his humiliation—but now, in this moment, every fragment of that long-buried pain mingled with rage.
Su Jin, oblivious, kept talking.
"Young Master Zhu, think about it. She's beautiful, untouched, a nobody who'd be grateful for your glance. What better toy could there be for you? If you like, I'll have her delivered straight to you—"
"Enough."
The word was low, guttural, vibrating with barely restrained fury. Zhu Jinyan turned, his gaze locking onto Su Jin. His eyes—usually calm, polished, unreadable—were now twin storms, black and violent.
Su Jin blinked, startled by the sudden shift, but before comprehension could dawn—before anyone could even draw breath—Zhu Jinyan moved.
His fist crashed into Su Jin's face with bone-snapping force. The sickening crack of cartilage echoed through the courtyard, silencing the whispers of the onlookers. Su Jin reeled backward, sprawling onto the cold asphalt, his hand clutching his bleeding nose, shock plastered across his features.
Gasps erupted around them.
"Y-Young Master Zhu…" Su Jin stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief, "I—I was only—"
"Shut. Up."
The roar tore from Zhu Jinyan's throat, raw and thunderous. He seized Su Jin by the collar and hauled him upright with terrifying ease, as though lifting a child. The crowd flinched at the sheer violence radiating from him.
Su Jin tried to stammer another excuse, but the words were crushed beneath another savage blow. Blood sprayed, teeth cracked. A second punch. A third. Then a brutal knee drove into Su Jin's stomach, folding him over with a guttural cry.
Zhu Jinyan's fury was merciless, a storm given flesh. He slammed Su Jin against the hood of a nearby car, his hand tightening around his throat, squeezing until Su Jin's face turned blotchy red and his breath came out in choked gasps.
"You dare," Zhu Jinyan hissed, his voice low, lethal, every syllable laced with venom. "You dare reduce her to a toy? To a gift you can 'present'?"
Su Jin clawed weakly at his grip, choking. His eyes bulged with terror.
Zhu Jinyan drew closer, his face inches from Su Jin's bloodied one.
"If you ever speak her name with such filth again, I'll do more than break your face. I'll break you, piece by piece, until you beg me to end it. Do you understand?"
Tears of pain and fear mixed with the blood on Su Jin's cheeks. He nodded frantically, unable to form words.
Zhu Jinyan released him suddenly, and Su Jin crumpled to the ground in a heap, coughing, retching, clutching at his shattered pride. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by Su Jin's ragged wheezing.
The crowd stared, wide-eyed, no one daring to move. And in the center of it all, Zhu Jinyan stood tall, fists bloodied, chest heaving—not a polished young master anymore, but a predator, radiating unrestrained fury.
Murmurs suddenly broke out among everyone, voices low but urgent, carrying fragments of half-forgotten stories.
"Didn't something happen between them last year?" someone whispered.
"Yes, in the school canteen—Zhu Jinyan confessed to her in front of everyone."
"And she cried and ran away, remember? Everyone laughed for weeks."
"That's not all—her brother, Li Zian, showed up the same day and beat Zhu Jinyan, claiming he bullied her. But the strangest thing? Zhu never fought back. Not a single punch. Totally unlike him."
"Exactly. The Zhu family's young master—humiliated publicly, beaten in front of the whole school—and he just stood there and took it. Doesn't that only mean one thing? His feelings for Li Ziqing must run deep. So deep he'd rather be disgraced than raise his hand against her brother."
"Who wouldn't fall for her? Just look at her—divine, untouchable. Her beauty's unmatched. No wonder Zhu Jinyan still can't let her go."
"Then this Su Jin must've said something vile to make him snap like that. It's the only explanation."
The whispers swelled, weaving the past into the present, until a sharper voice cut through the murmur: "But what about Tian Jia?"
At once, dozens of eyes turned.
There she stood—not far away, stiff as a statue, her breath shallow, her complexion pale beneath the wash of colored lights. Her fingers dug crescent-shaped marks into her palms, her lips trembling as she tried—and failed—to mask the storm inside her.
Tian Jia knew the story better than anyone. She had worn the title of Zhu Jinyan's "girlfriend" like a crown, basking in his wealth, his aura, his attention—or at least, what scraps of it he chose to offer. She had told herself he had moved on from that humiliation, that Li Ziqing was a closed chapter in his life.
But she knew. Deep down, she had always known. His feelings for Li Ziqing had never died. They had simply lain dormant, buried beneath pride, waiting for the right spark.
And now, as she watched him—her Zhu Jinyan—throw away his composure, his pride, even his dignity, all to protect that girl… Tian Jia's stomach twisted into knots of fury and fear. Jealousy seared through her chest, so sharp it nearly consumed her.
Li Weiqiang, meanwhile, stood numb at the edges of the crowd, his thoughts racing, like a bolt of lightning. Li Ziqing… isn't she from Wuhan City No. 1 Middle School?
And Zhu Jinyan—of course, he was from the same school. Could it be… they already knew each other? Is that why Zhu Jinyan was this furious?
The realization curdled in his stomach like poison when he heard the murmurs. So it's true… they're connected. No wonder Zhu Jinyan erupted like this. No wonder he'd beat Su Jin bloody without hesitation.
Li Weiqiang's gaze drifted toward Tian Jia. She stood stiffly, her eyes locked on Li Ziqing's retreating figure as she walked gracefully toward the VIP stand entrance. The cold fire in Tian Jia's glare was unmistakable—hatred sharpened by humiliation.
Li Weiqiang had heard plenty about her. The so-called daughter of the Tian family—her father, a businessman who had only recently made his fortune in Wuhan. Wealthy, yes, but their influence in the upper circle was shallow, their roots fragile. The reason Tian Jia had been transferred to Wuhan City No.1 Middle School was no secret. It was a calculated move—a pawn sent to linger by Zhu Jinyan's side, to nurture feelings, to someday bind the Tian family to the illustrious Zhu clan.
And yet, tonight, in front of everyone, Zhu Jinyan's actions made one truth painfully clear. His heart had never belonged to Tian Jia. His fury, his loss of control, his violence—it was all for Li Ziqing.
Li Weiqiang's lips curled into a thin, twisted smile. A dangerous spark lit in his eyes, the beginnings of a cruel plan.
If the Tian family sets themselves against Li Ziqing and her mother, what chance do they stand?
After all, what did the Lis really have? A restaurant. A handful of real estate. Assets, yes—but power? Influence? Protection? Those were entirely different matters.
The thought thrilled him, turning the knot of jealousy in his chest into something darker, more sinister.
His gaze flicked toward the Bugatti, gleaming under the lights like a predator crouched in the shadows. He sneered, his voice no more than a venomous murmur.
"So arrogant with me this afternoon, weren't you, Li Ziqing? Talking back, daring to disrespect me… Hmph. Just wait. I'll make sure you regret it."
A chill ran through him—not of fear, but of anticipation. For the first time that day, Li Weiqiang felt as though he finally had a weapon.
---
Inside the opulent VIP lounge, Ruan Zeyuan lounged back lazily on the velvet armchair, the half-full glass of red wine glinting under the dim golden lights. Unbeknownst to him, his carefully laid plan had already collapsed. He wore the kind of smugness that belonged to a man certain of victory.
Beside him, Zhou Yichen sat stiffly, tapping his fingers against the armrest with barely contained irritation. His phone screen was black, its battery long dead, and in this so-called "top-class establishment," not a single charging port or spare cable could be found. The forced silence gnawed at his patience.
Finally, he slammed his palm lightly against the armrest and stood up abruptly.
"Enough," Zhou Yichen muttered, his voice clipped with frustration. "It's already late. She should've been here by now. I'll go check for myself."
Ruan Zeyuan's gaze flicked lazily to the clock on the wall. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at his lips. By now, if everything went as planned, that little girl should have already been taught her lesson.
He set down his wine glass with deliberate care and rose, straightening his suit jacket. "I think you're right," he said smoothly. "Go ahead and check. In fact—" he adjusted his cufflinks, his smirk deepening, "—I'll accompany you."
Zhou Yichen's brows furrowed in surprise. "I thought you'd try to stop me again."
Ruan chuckled low in his throat, the sound steeped in irony. "Why would I? After all, it's better we see things together, isn't it?"
Zhou gave a sharp nod, not bothering to read too deeply into his words. "Fine. Let's go," he said, striding swiftly toward the door.
Ruan followed at a measured pace, his eyes gleaming with a malicious light. Yes, why would I stop you now? he thought, savoring the moment. It's time that little girl learns her place.
But just as Zhou's hand reached for the ornate brass handle, the heavy lounge doors were thrown open from the other side with a sudden force that made both men jolt back.
Two silhouettes filled the doorway—one tall and commanding, the other slender and graceful. The room's warm lamplight spilled over them as they stepped inside, their presence overwhelming the air.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned.
Ruan Zeyuan's confident smirk froze on his lips.
___
Author's Note
I know many of you may have noticed that the updates have slowed down recently, and the response in the comments has also become quieter. I want to sincerely apologize for not being able to update as regularly as before—I've been caught up with some personal matters that needed my time and focus.
But please don't think I've abandoned this story. This novel is very close to my heart, and so are all of you who have supported me along the way. Starting next week, I'll do my best to return to a regular update schedule, because I want to give this story the life and consistency it deserves.
Your comments, encouragement, and power stones mean so much—they remind me that there are readers waiting on the other side of the screen, following every twist and turn with me. So please, don't let this novel feel abandoned. A few words from you can brighten my day and keep me motivated to push forward.
Thank you for your patience, your support, and for staying with me on this journey. Let's continue to bring this story to life together.