Without wasting any time, after getting in touch with Ge Wuchen and securing his cooperation, Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian headed out on their motorcycle before dinner.
The two of them headed straight for the outskirts. On the highway, Jiang Luo sped up to test the feel of the bike, getting used to the motion of leaning into the turns. Listening to the intense, thunderous roar of the engine and watching the scenery fly past, his adrenaline surged. Jiang Luo felt a long-lost exhilaration, and the bloodlust he had been suppressing suddenly burst forth.
With the smell of gasoline in his nose, he raced all the way to the winding mountain road and rode straight to the summit.
At the top, more than a dozen motorcycles were already parked. The bikes were brightly colored and dazzling, most of them modified or customized. The riders stood in small groups chatting, while a bunch of scantily clad women, choosing beauty over warmth, laughed and joked together.
Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian parked to the side. Wenren Lian pointed at a man with tiger tattoos among the riders and said, “That’s Liu Qi. He’s the one who organized this race. He’s the leader around here.”
Wenren Lian led Jiang Luo over to Liu Qi and said casually, “In recent years, motorcycle racing has been getting more and more popular. It used to be all about skill, but now there’s gambling too. Betting money, or on male and female partners, and even other stakes—people are playing bigger and riskier now.”
While they spoke, Liu Qi spotted them and came over with his arm around a male companion. “Well, well, a rare guest—Wenren.”
He shook hands with Wenren Lian firmly, then turned to look at Jiang Luo.
Liu Qi had a fierce, menacing look, but the man in his arms was quite handsome. The guy squirmed impatiently out of Liu Qi’s hold and cast a sideways glance at Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian. This was Liu Qi’s new boyfriend, Zheng Ning. His eyes swept over Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian like he was inspecting produce at the market.
Wenren Lian introduced, “This is my buddy Jiang Luo. He’s here to do a run tonight.”
Liu Qi gave Jiang Luo a once-over, then looked at his bike. “Sure, welcome. But we’re still waiting on a few people. If you want, you can find someone to take a practice run and get familiar with the route.”
“I’ll take a look,” Jiang Luo glanced at the riders—and spotted someone familiar. “Isn’t that Fu Wei?”
At that, Zheng Ning turned to look at him. Jiang Luo’s charm wasn’t a lie—Zheng Ning found it hard to look away, his feelings complicated. On one hand, he felt jealous and guarded; Jiang Luo’s face almost made him lose the arrogance he wore. But on the other hand, Jiang Luo didn’t look like a bottom, so maybe they weren’t competitors.
He jumped in before Liu Qi could reply. “Yeah, that’s the big celebrity. He’s here in our city filming a show, and he comes to hang out when he’s free at night. You know him?”
“We’re somewhat acquainted,” Jiang Luo smiled at Zheng Ning. “If you want his autograph, I can take you over.”
As soon as he said that, Zheng Ning felt reassured. In his mind, Jiang Luo was clearly trying to get on his good side. He’d been pursued by many men before and was sure Jiang Luo was showing interest. Although Jiang Luo was too pretty—totally not his type—it still satisfied his vanity to be flirted with by such a good-looking guy.
Acting reserved, he said, “Then let’s go. I actually quite like that star.”
Liu Qi didn’t mind. He gave Zheng Ning’s butt a pat and let him follow Jiang Luo.
It was hard not to notice Fu Wei among the crowd—he stood out like a spotlight in a room of nobodies.
He was leaning against his heavy-duty motorcycle, silently smoking with his head down, curly hair falling over his eyes. His legs were crossed, boots planted firmly on the ground. The space around him was empty—no one dared talk to him, making him seem very unapproachable.
Jiang Luo hadn’t seen Fu Wei since quitting Next Stop, Idol, but had occasionally caught news about him. Fu Wei had debuted as the center with a landslide of votes, became explosively popular right away, and his resources left his groupmates far behind—he was already a well-known celebrity.
Hearing footsteps, Fu Wei looked up expressionlessly. When he saw Jiang Luo, he paused, his expression shifting slightly. He stood up straighter and said in a low voice, “Jiang Huan.”
Zheng Ning glanced at Jiang Luo. Wait—wasn’t his name Jiang Luo?
“Long time no see,” Jiang Luo’s expression didn’t change. “I listened to your new song the other day. It was great.”
Fu Wei raised an eyebrow noncommittally. “Thanks.”
Even someone as arrogant as him knew how to say thank you now? Fu Wei had gotten polite.
Jiang Luo asked, “Got time to sign something for a fan?”
Fu Wei looked at Zheng Ning and gave a small nod.
But Zheng Ning didn’t have any pen or paper. He grinned at Fu Wei. “I don’t have a pen, handsome. Do you?”
Fu Wei frowned slightly and pulled a marker from his bike. Zheng Ning turned around and tugged at his hoodie. “Just sign on my back.”
As Fu Wei leaned down to sign, the scent of oil and machinery hit Zheng Ning’s nose, almost making his knees weak. He couldn’t help but glance back at Fu Wei, cheeks suddenly tinged red.
Compared to Jiang Luo, he preferred this type.
When Fu Wei finished and casually tossed the marker aside, his dark eyes turned back to Jiang Luo. “Race me?”
Jiang Luo agreed without hesitation. “Let’s go.”
The two of them mounted their bikes and tore off from the mountaintop down the winding road. The mountain path was treacherous, and with dusk falling, the light was poor and the streetlamps hadn’t kicked in. But the two bikes shot out like arrows from a bow, engines roaring.
Jiang Luo had studied the road carefully on the way up, so he felt confident and began steadily increasing his speed. At first, he and Fu Wei were neck and neck, but Fu Wei hesitated at a sharp turn and slowed slightly, allowing Jiang Luo to overtake him.
Halfway down the mountain, the two bikes streaked past with a loud “vroom.”
When they hit a straightaway, Fu Wei caught up again, his bike drawing level with Jiang Luo’s. His voice, muffled through the helmet, sounded metallic. “That faceless ghost following me—it was you who dealt with it, right?”
Jiang Luo shouted back, “Yeah. Are you going to thank me?”
Fu Wei was silent for a moment. Then he eased off the gas, letting Jiang Luo pull ahead.
The race ended quickly, with Fu Wei trailing Jiang Luo by half a bike’s length. Jiang Luo took off his helmet—his hair stuck to his neck with sweat, and the trapped heat had flushed his cheeks with exhilaration. Though the winding road gave him a rush, Jiang Luo’s mood was a little sour—because he could tell Fu Wei had let him win on purpose.
This kind of behavior brought Jiang Luo’s once-elevated mood crashing down to rock bottom.
Fu Wei was also drenched in sweat across his forehead. He tossed Jiang Luo a cigarette. “What do you want to ask for?”
This was a race, after all. As the loser, Fu Wei was expected to pay something.
Jiang Luo let the mountain breeze cool him off. After a moment, he suddenly asked, “Do you have a lot of fans?”
Fu Wei gave him a look and held up a number with his fingers.
Jiang Luo smiled, lips lifting. “Alright, I’ll remember that. I don’t want anything right now. I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”
It was an unreasonable demand, really—because there was no way to guarantee what Jiang Luo would ask for later. But Fu Wei didn’t hesitate. He lowered his head, lit his cigarette, and smoke curled from the corners of his cold, hard lips. “Okay.”
Jiang Luo was slightly surprised by how readily he agreed. Fu Wei still smoked and was withdrawn, but his temper had clearly improved since before. But thinking about it, Jiang Luo started to understand—Fu Wei used to act so aloof and unapproachable, maybe just to keep others away, afraid they’d also be targeted by the faceless ghost lurking in the dark.
After finishing their cigarettes, the two returned to the mountaintop. When people heard that Fu Wei had actually lost to Jiang Luo, Liu Qi’s boyfriend stared at Jiang Luo in disbelief for a good while. His cold and dismissive attitude from earlier vanished completely. He practically leaned into Jiang Luo, though his eyes kept glancing over at Fu Wei.
Even his way of addressing changed. “Brother Jiang, have you been riding motorcycles for many years?”
“I used to ride,” Jiang Luo saw right through what Zheng Ning was thinking, but his expression didn’t change. He was even more patient, his smile dazzling enough to make someone dizzy. “I haven’t touched one in a while, so I’m a bit rusty.”
He wasn’t lying either. After Jiang Luo’s mom abandoned him too, he went completely off the rails. During his rebellious teenage years, he indulged himself—smoking, drinking, dancing, racing—earning money while playing hard. His smoking habit was born during that time.
Zheng Ning answered distractedly, “You’re amazing…”
Wenren Lian tossed Jiang Luo a bottle of water and leaned in to whisper, “He’s almost here, right?”
Jiang Luo held up a finger to his lips.
They waited in silence for a few minutes, then heard the roar of a powerful engine. A sports car drove up to the mountaintop.
When Liu Qi saw the license plate, his face changed. He quickly walked over, leaned into the window, and exchanged a few words with the person inside. Two people got out of the car.
The one in front was a rich second-generation who used to race a lot—an expert driver named Wang Shao. He hadn’t ridden a motorcycle in a long time, but it was Wang Shao who had first brought Liu Qi into the scene.
Behind him followed a stranger in a long coat. The man strolled over lazily, looking around with interest. His eyes were jet-black and ominous, with a strange, unsettling quality.
He was tall and strikingly handsome, and looking further down… that part was also impressive…
Zheng Ning stared blankly at the man, his heart pounding like a drum. It felt like watching a murderer—or a corpse come to life—slowly approaching. His body shivered instinctively with fear, but mentally, he was enthralled.
This contradiction of danger and allure hit Zheng Ning even harder than Fu Wei had. His breathing quickened, and then the man looked straight at him and gave him a cold smile.
A chill ran down Zheng Ning’s spine. His legs trembled uncontrollably, but he still forced himself to smile back.
Even as he shivered, he couldn’t help but think: He’s so good-looking…
Just then, a hand landed on his back. Zheng Ning turned to see Jiang Luo patting him gently. “You okay?”
Catching sight of Jiang Luo’s face now so close to his own, Zheng Ning was stunned. A huge sense of vanity surged in his chest. Jiang Luo had only met him once and was already being so nice, even concerned about him. That mysterious stranger had smiled at him too. Two top-tier men in one night—Zheng Ning couldn’t help but feel like luck was finally on his side.
Jiang Luo’s concern warmed him. His voice even softened. “I’m fine.”
If Zheng Ning had to choose someone to spend the night with, it would be that mysterious man who stirred his heart. But… he was also willing to give Jiang Luo his contact info.
Jiang Luo, however, seemed completely unaware of Chi You walking toward him. His gaze was fixed on Zheng Ning, lips slowly curving. “Good, as long as you’re okay.”
Zheng Ning blushed suddenly.
But no one noticed.
The black haired young man’s sweat-slicked, delicate profile was facing the evil ghost drawing near.
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