Li Ziqing's victory had stunned the entire audience, leaving the grandstand in a state of awe and disbelief. For a moment, silence hung over the track like a veil, broken only by the roar of the engines cooling down. Then, as realization struck, whispers surged through the crowd like ripples across water.
Though shock was the predominant emotion, there were others who couldn't help but feel exhilarated. The girl they had once dismissed had just accomplished the impossible. Li Ziqing had always been beautiful—radiantly, almost divinely so. Her ethereal looks had made her the undisputed school belle, a title that seemed to shine upon her like a crown. Yet beauty alone often breeds resentment. For many, there had never been anything more to her than a flawless face, and it was precisely this shallow perception that had fueled jealousy and dislike.
But today, the veil had been torn away.
On that treacherous mountain track, the crowd witnessed a side of Li Ziqing no one had ever imagined—a side both wild and untamed, fierce and fearless. Her driving was not just skill; it was art. Every sharp turn, every daring drift carried with it an unshakable confidence that left even seasoned racers speechless.
"She wasn't just competing," one spectator murmured in disbelief, "she was commanding the race."
"Did you see her eyes? Calm… like she already knew the outcome before it began," another replied, awe lacing their voice.
In that moment, Li Ziqing was no longer just the school belle. She had become something more—an enigma. The same people who once admired only her beauty and dismissed other things entirely about her now found themselves captivated by her audacity, drawn to the fire that blazed behind her serene façade. For the first time, admiration outweighed jealousy.
Today, they realized, Li Ziqing was not a girl defined by her looks alone. She was a force to be reckoned with—a storm in disguise. And from this day forward, none who had witnessed her victory today would ever forget the sight of her black Bugatti slicing through the mountains like lightning.
Ruan Zeyuan was lost in heavy contemplation when a sudden tap on the car window startled him. His brows furrowed as he turned, only to see Zhou Yichen standing outside, his expression unreadable. Reluctantly, Ruan pushed open the door and stepped out.
Without a word, Zhou Yichen handed him a phone. "Take a look," he said calmly.
Ruan's frown deepened as he accepted it. The screen displayed a paused video from the race. With a swipe, the footage began to play, and slowly, his expression shifted. The frown that had marked his pride gave way to something far more complicated—admiration.
For years, he had considered himself untouchable on the track, a racer whose skills could only be rivaled by international champions. Racing had been his one true sanctuary. In Shanghai, his family had dismissed him as useless, unfit to shoulder responsibility. Their scorn had weighed on him, gnawed at him. Yet every time he gripped a steering wheel, every time the engine roared under him, he rediscovered his confidence. Racing was the one arena where he could still hold his head high.
And yet… today, he had been surpassed. Effortlessly. And by whom? A girl nearly a decade younger than him.
The video replayed her impossible maneuver through the hairpin turns, each second hammering into his pride like a chisel. Ruan felt his chest tighten as the truth settled in. His arrogance had blinded him, and now the saying echoed painfully in his mind: "The greatest weakness of the strongest is his arrogance."
A bitter chuckle slipped from his lips, surprising even himself. He glanced at Zhou Yichen and muttered with a wry grin, "You were right. She possesses greater skill than I do."
Zhou Yichen studied him, momentarily taken aback by the admission, but then allowed a small, understanding smile. "Ruan Zeyuan, I don't blame you," he replied evenly. "In fact, I think you acted as a true friend. You challenged her because you thought of me—thought I was being deceived. But do you know what was truly unworthy of admiration today? Your arrogance. And arrogance always demands its price. Today, you paid dearly."
Ruan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Zhou continued, his tone steady yet tinged with the weight of experience. "I have spent my entire life striving for more. I left China with nothing but ambition and worked relentlessly abroad. And yes, it paid off—I earned wealth, prestige, far more than I could have imagined. When I joined Aurelius International Holdings in Singapore, I thought I had finally reached the pinnacle. But the day the family that owned it fell into infighting, I was discarded overnight, like a pawn no longer of use. That was when I realized—everything I had built was not mine. All my years of effort had merely fattened someone else's empire."
Ruan's brows furrowed. The words cut deeply, for he knew the bitter sting of being dismissed, of being thought useless despite his passion.
Zhou's voice grew more resolute. "So I quit. Opportunities flooded in, thousands of them, each more promising than the last. But I wanted none. For the first time in my life, I desired independence. And then, in what I thought was a reckless impulse, I came to Wuhan. Why? Because I received an offer that intrigued me. An offer not from a conglomerate, not from an established power—but from a girl. A girl barely into her teens."
Ruan blinked, disbelief flickering in his eyes.
"I still remember," Zhou went on, his tone deepening with memory. "I drove to the address in the email and found myself in the slums of Wuhan. I thought it must be a joke. Yet when I entered, I found her. Li Ziqing. A teenager, yes, but standing before me with the confidence of someone who already saw the future. She spoke with vision, with mission, with a clarity that even veteran leaders often lack. And then I tasted her food—their culinary skill alone was enough to silence my doubts."
He chuckled softly. "I drafted a business module for them. Conservatively, I estimated one year before they could even dream of expanding to a third restaurant. Yet reality proved me wrong. On the very next day after the opening, the profits were so staggering that we were already forced to begin preparations for our second restaurant in Nanjing. And do you know what impressed me most? The contract. It clearly stated that once the company goes public, I will hold shares. I am not merely an employee of the Li family—I am a partner, a stakeholder. I am not only building Miss Li's empire; I am building my own."
He looked Ruan in the eye, his gaze unwavering. "It's only been a month, and already the company is generating revenue in the millions, with projects worth billions in the pipeline. Tell me, Ruan, how many companies in their first fiscal year can even cover operating costs, let alone turn a profit? And here, a teenager not only turned a profit, but created wealth in millions. That is not luck. That is vision. That is genius. So no, I do not regret working under Miss Li—and neither will you."
Ruan Zeyuan stood frozen, his mind a storm. He had once thought Zhou Yichen was ensnared by some clever legal trap, forced into servitude under a slip of a girl. But this—this revelation was far beyond anything he had imagined.
His throat went dry. A company in its first year earning millions? He knew the harsh realities of business—how countless startups collapsed within months, how many never broke even until years later. For a company to already scale so quickly, to reach such revenue in mere weeks… it was beyond belief. And it spoke volumes about the founder who stood at its helm.
Li Ziqing.
For the first time, the thought of her name made his chest ache with something unfamiliar—humility.
He suddenly flashed a smile at Zhou Yichen and replied calmly, "You are right." Without hesitation, he added, "Prepare the contract. I'll work for Miss Li for free for this entire year." With that decisive statement, he turned and began making his way toward Li Ziqing, who was surrounded by Zhu Jinyan and his group of friends.
Zhou Yichen simply smiled, his eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction. He said nothing further, only slipping his hands into his pockets as he drifted away, leaving the decision to take its own course.
At that moment, Li Ziqing was speaking with Zhu Jinyan and the others, her manner poised yet distant. The moment her gaze caught sight of Ruan Zeyuan striding toward her, she instinctively excused herself from the conversation. She could feel a distinct shift in his presence—something had changed within him since their race, and she was keenly aware of it.
Ruan Zeyuan stopped directly before her, his curiosity burning through his otherwise composed demeanor. "How did you manage to defeat me?" he asked bluntly, his voice betraying both admiration and lingering disbelief.
Li Ziqing froze for half a second. Of course, she couldn't tell him that her victory was due to the mysterious system's skill coupon. Composure returning, she shrugged casually, her expression unreadable. "I'm simply good at mathematics and physics," she said smoothly, as though it were the most natural explanation in the world.
Ruan Zeyuan studied her face, searching for any sign of deception. A low chuckle escaped him. "Mathematics and physics, hmm? That almost sounds too simple. Tell me—did you ever consider me a worthy competitor?" His eyes narrowed slightly, almost as if daring her to be honest.
Li Ziqing tilted her head, her tone calm yet edged with subtle sharpness. "Do you want to hear the truth," she asked, "or a comforting lie?"
The corner of Ruan Zeyuan's mouth twitched. "Which one will hurt more?"
"Both has its own effects," she replied lightly.
He pretended to mull over her words for a moment, then gave a decisive nod. "In that case, I'll take the truth."
Li Ziqing did not hesitate. Her answer was clear, sharp, and absolute. "No."
For a brief moment, silence fell between them. Ruan Zeyuan's expression faltered, disappointment flickering across his features. He had wanted—perhaps even needed—a different answer. A small part of him had hoped her respect for him as a competitor would soothe the sting of defeat. But her blunt honesty cut deeper than any lie ever could.
Yet, to his own surprise, the sting quickly gave way to something else—relief. He found himself exhaling slowly before forcing a smile, this time softer and more genuine. "Very well," he said, his tone steadier than before. "Let's forget about that then. Miss Li, I'd like us to start over. I want to leave you with a good first impression, since I'll be working under you from now on."
Straightening, he extended his hand toward her, his smile taking on a touch of warmth. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Ruan Zeyuan. I was born and raised in Shanghai. Doctorate from Harvard and recently, I've been doing nothing"
Li Ziqing glanced at the hand Ruan Zeyuan held out. Her gaze, cool and discerning, lingered for a heartbeat too long. Those clear eyes, like still water, reflected not excitement but calm appraisal—an appraisal that made even Ruan Zeyuan, who had faced countless people in his life, shift faintly on his feet.
Finally, with quiet composure, she raised her hand and placed it lightly in his. Her voice, clear and melodic, carried just the right amount of distance. "Li Ziqing."
Ruan Zeyuan's smile deepened, his grip firm but measured, carrying the easy confidence of someone used to drawing attention.
"Then, Miss Li," he said smoothly, "I'll count on you from today onwards."
Li Ziqing's lips parted to respond, but before her words could form, another voice cut through the air behind them.
Low, unhurried, and magnetic, it carried a weight that silenced the space around it.
"Ruan Zeyuan," the voice drawled, not loud yet impossible to ignore, "I didn't expect to see you… so very polite."
The faint mockery laced in those words made Ruan Zeyuan stiffen almost imperceptibly. He released Li Ziqing's hand at once and turned, his practiced smile thinning into something tighter, less certain.
Li Ziqing's gaze followed his, and in that instant, she saw him.
The world seemed to hush at his arrival. Conversations faltered, laughter ebbed, even the shuffle of restless feet blurred into silence, as though the air itself had shifted to make way for him.
He moved forward with a presence that needed no announcement. His jacket—cut in a shade of understated midnight—fit him with immaculate precision, its lines accentuating the long, lean strength of his frame. Broad shoulders carried an effortless poise; every step he took was unhurried, deliberate, yet each stride held an authority that drew eyes without permission.
Shen Zeyan was beautiful in a way that defied simple description—elegance carved into sharpness, youth tempered with composure. His profile was clean and sculpted, lips firm, jaw defined with quiet strength. But it was his eyes that commanded everything.
Deep. Steady. Unreadable. They locked on her with unnerving calm, as though the crowd, the noise, the world itself had ceased to exist. That gaze was not the admiration of a boy dazzled by beauty, nor the idle curiosity of a stranger. No—his was the measured assessment of someone who observed in silence and weighed what he saw. It was a gaze that cut and unraveled, that suggested he could peer past her poised surface into truths even she kept hidden.
A subtle chill traced her spine.
Beside him, Gao Boheng was the perfect foil—like sunlight breaking through a storm. His grin was wide, his youthful energy irrepressible, his admiration unfiltered.
"Miss!" he exclaimed, almost breathless with awe. "That was absolutely spectacular! We couldn't sit still another second—we had to come down and meet the person who just tore the track apart!"
His words tumbled out in a rush, his excitement so unrestrained it almost bounced off him. He glanced between Shen Zeyan and Li Ziqing as if expecting sparks to fly right before his eyes.
But Li Ziqing did not answer.
Outwardly, she remained composed, her face as calm and unbothered as still water. Her eyes were clear, her posture unyielding, giving nothing away. And yet, beneath that surface, her heartbeat betrayed her, quickening against her ribs.
Recognition unfurled in the back of her mind like a slow, dawning flame.
Isn't he… the boy from the final-year Rocket Class? she thought, recalling the fleeting glance they had exchanged in the class not long ago. She had dismissed it then, as nothing more than chance, but now seeing him stand infront of her felt... Different.
The silence lingered just a moment too long. Gao Boheng shifted on his feet, glancing from Li Ziqing's calm expression to Ruan Zeyuan's still-stunned face. Feeling the weight of expectation, Ruan Zeyuan gave a hurried laugh and quickly broke in.
"Young Master Shen—you finally came. Earlier, when you dismissed my invitation, I thought I wouldn't have the chance to see you here." His words tumbled out with a sheepish grin, a desperate attempt to ease the tension.
Shen Zeyan's gaze cut to him, cool and razor-sharp.
"If people suddenly start treating my private club as their playground," he replied, voice smooth yet edged with steel, "then I have no choice but to come, do I?"
The sarcasm was deliberate, the disdain in his tone unmasked.
Ruan Zeyuan's smile faltered, wavering for the briefest second before he forced it back into place. "Of course, of course…" he muttered, then quickly gestured toward Li Ziqing. "Miss Li, allow me to introduce you. This is Young Master Shen—Shen Zeyan—and his assistant, Gao Boheng. Young Master Shen, this is Miss Li Ziqing… I'll be working for her now."
Li Ziqing inclined her head politely, her voice calm. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." Then she turned to Gao Boheng, her expression composed but softened by the faintest trace of courtesy. "And about your earlier words, Mr. Gao—you flatter me. It was only a race."
"Just a race?" Gao Boheng burst out laughing, his amusement bright and genuine. "Miss Li, I've been watching these tracks for years. What you did today—I haven't seen anything like it. Not in a very long time." He gestured grandly, then clapped Shen Zeyan's shoulder with boyish enthusiasm. "Don't you agree, Young Master Shen?"
Shen Zeyan didn't answer at once. Instead, he stepped forward, each pace deliberate, his presence closing the space between them with quiet inevitability. His gaze never left Li Ziqing, steady and unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed the smallest fracture in his usual composure.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, even, yet resonant with something that silenced even Gao Boheng's grin.
"It wasn't just a race," he said. "It was proof."
Li Ziqing arched a brow, her tone smooth, measured. "Proof of what, may I ask?"
The corner of his lips curved faintly—too restrained to be called a smile, yet enough to suggest he found her question almost amusing. "Proof," he answered, "that beneath a quiet name, sometimes lies a force no one anticipates."
Her eyes held his steadily, clear and unwavering, revealing neither awe nor hesitation. Instead, a flicker of quiet defiance passed through them.
"And sometimes," she returned softly, "it's better to be underestimated."
The words hung between them, delicate yet unyielding. For a heartbeat, silence stretched taut as a wire. Neither turned away.
Shen Zeyan felt it the moment his eyes locked onto hers. A stirring—subtle but undeniable—like the faint ripple on still water when the wind shifts. He couldn't name it yet, couldn't frame it neatly in the logic he prided himself on, but it was there, coiling quietly beneath his composure.
This was only the second time he had seen her. The first had been a week ago, in the school—an almost accidental encounter. He hadn't paid much mind to faces that came and went, but hers had lingered. Not because she had tried to capture his attention—far from it—but because she hadn't. She had stood her ground then, unyielding and unrestrained, refusing to bow under the weight of the ridicule flung at her. He had watched her silence a group of mocking classmates with nothing but her words, her steady gaze cutting through their noise. There had been no theatrics, no desperate attempt to prove herself, only a calm defiance that felt… dangerous.
And now—tonight. On the track, she had been something else entirely. Wild. Unpredictable. Calculated and reckless in the same breath. She had seized victory not through luck, but through skill so sharp it made even seasoned racers falter. He had seen many races—more than most—but never had he seen anyone so decisive.
But it wasn't her beauty that intrigued him, though beauty she had in abundance. He was used to beauty. He was used to the fluttering gazes, the hushed giggles, the sudden loss of composure when girls found themselves in his orbit. He knew—without arrogance, without denial—the effect he had on others. The aura he carried was not something people ignored.
Yet this girl—Li Ziqing. She stood before him steady, shoulders squared, gaze unflinching. She did not shrink. She did not fawn. She did not even blink away from the weight of his eyes.
If anything—she challenged them.
A subtle quickening in his chest betrayed him, though his face remained unreadable.
From the side, Ruan Zeyuan cleared his throat, his voice threading into the silence like a stone tossed into water. "Young Master Shen," he said, forcing a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes, "don't tell me you're impressed already."
The words carried the lilt of a tease, but there was something beneath them—unease, sharp and thin.
Shen Zeyan's gaze didn't move from Li Ziqing. His answer came simple, calm, and absolute. "Not impressed," he said.
"Intrigued."
The single word hung in the air like a blade suspended on the edge of a string.
Li Ziqing's lips curved, not into a smile, but into something more elusive. "Intrigued?" she echoed softly, as though testing the taste of the word. "That sounds dangerous."
Ruan Zeyuan let out a low whistle, his eyes darting between them. "Dangerous? Miss Li, you're bolder than most. Usually by now, people can't even breathe right under our young master Shen's stare."
Li Ziqing didn't take her eyes off Shen Zeyan. "Perhaps that says more about them than it does about him."
The response was quiet, yet it struck like a spark against stone. Gao Boheng blinked, his grin faltering, while Ruan Zeyuan shifted uncomfortably.
Shen Zeyan's lips tilted ever so slightly, though it wasn't quite a smile. "You don't mince words," he observed. His voice was low, smooth, carrying the weight of a man accustomed to being listened to. "Not in school, not on the track, and not now."
"Why should I?" Li Ziqing's tone remained even, calm, as though she were simply stating a fact. "Words only lose power when you dilute them."
The silence stretched again, but it was no longer awkward. It was charged, humming, as though something invisible yet inevitable was forming between them.
Ruan Zeyuan could no longer contain himself. A forced laugh trembled at the edges, betraying the protective stirrings he felt toward Li Ziqing, and the disconcerting weight of Shen Zeyan's gaze unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He stepped forward, brushing a hand nervously across the back of his neck.
"You always find trouble in the most… unusual places, Young Master Shen," he said, his tone awkward, self-effacing. "Please, don't read too much into this. Miss Li is clever, yes, but she is still young. Today… it was entirely my fault. Truly, I apologize for troubling you."
Shen Zeyan's eyes lingered on Li Ziqing for a heartbeat too long, a flash of bewilderment crossing his features. Even he could not make sense of the sudden tension in the room. With a subtle shake of his head, he looked away, visibly rattled by his own unexpected lapse of composure.
Ruan Zeyuan's faltering created an opening that Gao Boheng seized with precision. He stepped toward Li Ziqing, his every movement deliberate, commanding, yet laced with deference.
"Miss Li," he said, his voice smooth and controlled, "what happened today… it wasn't entirely Young Master Ruan's fault. Part of it was ours as well."
Before she could reply, he drew a sleek, obsidian-black card from his pocket. Holding it with both hands, he extended it toward her as though presenting a sacred relic. "Please accept this… our exclusive membership card for the Grand Ascot Clubs, across China. Consider it a token of our apology—yours, without any cost."
Li Ziqing's gaze fell upon the card. The black surface caught the light, glinting like polished onyx. Her fingers twitched, drawn instinctively toward it, yet she shook her head gently. "It's… alright," she said softly, her voice calm, polite, measured. "I didn't lose anything today."
Her mind, however, was racing. She understood the gravity of what was being offered better than anyone. The Grand Ascot Clubs were not merely bastions of luxury—they were gateways to power, corridors through which wealth and influence flowed like a current. Only seven of these clubs existed across the entire nation. A regular membership granted access to just one. This card—the black, exclusive card—granted entry to all seven.
Accepting it directly from the owner himself, as an apology for a misunderstanding that wasn't even his fault, made her chest tighten. She was not yet powerful enough to wield such influence; to hold this key without consequence would feel like overreaching. Taking it so readily would be like claiming a prize she had not yet earned.
Gao Boheng's expression flickered—a mixture of impatience and concern. "Miss Li…" he said, lowering his hands but holding her gaze firmly. "This isn't just a gift. It's a symbol. I hope you'll consider it—not out of obligation, but as a bridge between us."
Li Ziqing regarded him steadily, her shoulders easing into a subtle relaxation. A faint, almost imperceptible smile curved her lips. "I… understand," she murmured. "But truly, I'm fine. Today's events cost me nothing. I prefer to earn my way rather than accept favors I haven't worked for."
Everyone fell silent, heavy with unspoken tension. Even the air seemed to pause in acknowledgment of her quiet strength.
Then, unexpectedly, Shen Zeyan's voice broke through. "Take it, Miss Li," he said, his tone calm yet insistent. "I've heard about Qingyan Pavilion—you possess not only extraordinary skills but a sharp business mind. Forming an acquaintance with you is advantageous for everyone here. This card is not merely an apology; it is also a mark of admiration. I insist."
Li Ziqing and Ruan Zeyuan were both taken aback. Ruan had known Shen Zeyan for nearly six years, yet he had never heard him speak in such a measured, deliberate statement in one breath. Something about today had shifted him.
Li Ziqing hesitated, feeling a flutter of awkwardness. Then, with a quiet sigh, she extended her hand and accepted the card. "Then… I should thank you for the offer," she said.
Gao Boheng's smile was immediate, warm, yet respectful. "There's no need for thanks, Miss Li. You've earned it. The card has been registered under your name—you may access any of our clubs at your convenience. Regular updates on events and activities will be sent directly to you." he than turned towards Shen Zeyan and said, "Young Master Shen. I think we should get going"
Shen Zeyan didn't move at first. His gaze lingered a fraction longer on Li Ziqing, as though trying to commit something to memory—her eyes, her stillness, the way she stood unflinching in a room where most would crumble.
Finally, he inclined his head, just slightly, in her direction. "Until next time, Miss Li."
He turned then, his steps smooth, purposeful, leaving behind a silence far heavier than when he'd arrived.
Li Ziqing watched him go, her expression unreadable, but inside, her pulse beat erratically against her calm exterior.
Until next time?
The words echoed.
Ruan Zeyuan also sighed and said, "Until Next time? Was it a greeting or warning?"
___
Everyone thank you for your support and patience. I just got little busy with my academics but now I'm free for next few days, because of vacations so I'll try to be regular and consistent.
Thank you🥰🙏😊