The night air at Shen race track was sharp and electric, the kind that clung to your skin and tasted like gasoline and glory. Floodlights lit the wide race track like a stage, throwing long shadows across the asphalt. Only serious racers came out this late — the kind who didn't race for fun or fame, but for something deeper. Something they couldn't explain.
Ziyu pulled into the lot in silence, her blue car gleaming like oil under the lights. She parked, stretched her arms above her head, and tied her ponytail tighter. Her headphones were already in, low music humming in her ears as she rolled her shoulders and moved with quiet purpose.
The night was supposed to be simple. Herself. One car. She came to clear her head from all the stress she has experienced starting this morning. Her plans were set into motion, but she had already started to feel like she was burning out.
Back in Washington, she would visit the race track often to clear her head. This was her method of therapy. Driving full speed ahead, nothing to fear and nothing in mind. She sat inside the racecar and placed her hands on the wheels, her safe space and started the engine.
What she didn't know was that someone had booked the track before her — or worse, at the same time. And he wasn't alone.
Further down the starting line, two other cars were already lined up, engines grumbling like animals impatient to be unleashed. One was a piercing blue — sleek, polished, aggressive — driven by a man named Wei Yichen, Luchen Tech's in-house genius. The other, a bright red speed demon, glinted under the lights like it belonged in a showroom. Inside it sat Lu Zeyan, sole heir of the Luchen empire, with one hand on the wheel and a look on his face that said:
'I don't lose. Ever.'
"You ready?" Zeyan asked, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he adjusted his gloves.
Wei Yichen yawned. "Barely. I was ready ten minutes ago. You were busy checking your hair in the rearview mirror".
"It's called confidence," Zeyan shot back. "You wouldn't get it".
With a roar of engines and zero warning, the race began.
They tore through the track like lightning, wheels shrieking around curves. Neither of them noticed the third car that had quietly merged onto the track minutes earlier. Ziyu had entered smoothly, without fanfare, as if the track belonged to her. The guys had not noticed her, she was full speed ahead and clearing her mind.
Now on lap seven, driving with a quiet intensity, eyes focused, every motion fluid and precise. Then the red car flew past her like a bullet, cutting dangerously close on the left. She barely blinked. Didn't swerve. Didn't chase. Just kept her rhythm.
Lu Zeyan, on the other hand, noticed her immediately. Or rather, he noticed the blue car in front of him, and in his mind, that could only mean one thing: Wei Yichen was trying to play dirty. He hadn't seen him overtake — so the fact that a blue car was ahead was enough to short-circuit his ego. Because she was faster, he started to fall behind.
"Oh, you sneaky bastard," he muttered, eyes narrowing". Trying to act like you're not taking this seriously, huh?"
He stepped on the gas, determined to get past her. He veered to the left, but she was already there. Tried the right — blocked again. And yet, the driver didn't seem to be reacting at all. No showboating. No competitive flair. Just... quiet.
Was this a mind game?
Zeyan's patience cracked.
"Alright. Let's see how calm you are after this".
He jerked the wheel, his car swiping against hers with a violent crunch. Metal kissed metal. Ziyu's car skidded sharply, slammed against the outer wall with a burst of sparks and the screech of tortured steel.
There was a moment where anyone else would've stopped.
She stopped her car because the mixture of her music and screeching metal ticked her off and made her composed nature flair up. He thought he'd won but she started her engine again. Everyone usually stopped.
But not her.
She shifted gears.
And gunned it.
The car roared back to life and surged forward like something unchained. Zeyan barely had time to process what happened before she was beside him — no, ahead of him — driving backwards. The bonnet facing his bonnet her way of taunting this individual she assumed was crazy and lost his mind. She wasn't trying to win. She was trying to make that person lose.
His jaw dropped. "What the—?!"
This action alone has bruised his ego
She matched his speed perfectly, steering in reverse like it was the most natural thing in the world. Every time he tried to move past her, she blocked. No hesitation. No room. Just flawless, ruthless control.
Zeyan slammed the wheel. "Are you kidding me?!"
"Dude," Wei Yichen's voice came through the radio, confused, but Zeyan didn't respond. His pride was too busy bleeding. He has taken this action as Yichen telling him that he has always been better. Zeyan read too much into this attack, but none of this was Ziyu's concern.
Ziyu spun her car back around with a perfect flick and bolted forward to the finish line.
Zeyan pulled in seconds later parking his car to the edge of the track. He stepped out of his car, anger covering his face. He was ready to pound on the window, "Are you insane?! Who the hell taught you how to drive?! You could've—!", he was cut off by the sound of another engine in a distance.
The blue racecar finally crossed the finish line and Wei Yichen stepped out.
"If you are there, who is this?"
The car door opened and someone stepped out, pulling off their helmet. Long legs. White hoodie. Helmet in one hand. Ponytail loose. Calm, collected. Zeyan froze. It wasn't Yichen. It wasn't even a man.
Ziyu stared at him like he was a buzzing mosquito. Mildly annoying. Not worth the energy to swat.
He blinked. "…You're a girl?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Never noticed either".
Before he could say anything else, Wei Yichen jogged up beside him, looking between the two cars.
"Did you think this was my car?", Yichen asked shocked, as he observed the now partially destroyed car. its right rear-view mirror was destroyed and the whole right side of the car was scratched and dented.
Ziyan turned to him, clearly annoyed. "Yes! but she was in it. I thought it was you".
"Ohhh," Wei Yichen said, whistling low.
"So you crashed into a stranger and lost to her. Damn, that's rough".
Zeyan glared at Yichen, but he looked hell bent on adding fuel to the fire. "All these years together and you don't know the details of my racecar except that it is blue. I am very disappointed".
Zeyan ignored him and turned back to Ziyu. "You shouldn't have been here. This track was booked".
Ziyu bent down, inspecting the dented side of her car. "So you crashed into me because of a booking error?"
He didn't say anything just turned his face. Ziyu took this gesture as him ignoring her.
"I am shocked. So I have to make booking for what I own", she added with a scoff, scratching her hair.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then muttered something under his breath and turned away.
At that moment, a tall man in a racing vest approached her. American accent. Familiar face.
"Miss Shen," he said, surprised, "You didn't do your usual 50 laps. Is the car not up to standard?". His Mandarin was perfect just not toned well because of his American accent.
She handed him her helmet and gloves without looking back.
"It's not the car," she said flatly. "It's the people. They killed my drive".
She turned to leave, then looked at the employee, and spoke in English.
"Fix my racecar, I have been using it for years, I will feel uncomfortable with a new one. Also next time, cancel booking that will interfere with my time especially these ones", she said glaring at the duo before walking off.
Zeyan turned at that. Scoffed. "Fifty laps?" he muttered, as if the number offended him.
Then, mimicking her voice, "'It's the people. They killed my drive.'" Another scoff. "Get over yourself".
Wei Yichen raised a brow. "Dude… Shouldn't she be the least of your problem? She also just told the employee to cancel our booking. I guess she really does own the place".
Zeyan didn't answer. He was still watching her walk away — that calm, unbothered pace like she'd just stepped out of a yoga session instead of a high-speed crash. He snapped out of it, jaw tightening as she disappeared from view.
"She cancelled our bookings? But this place belongs to one of our investors", Zeyan retorted.
"Well, that's sad! He took her order and I just received an email of cancelled bookings", Yichen said, showing him the email that was just sent.