Under the overpass, Ma Lu had been supporting himself against a bridge pillar and retching for about three minutes, but he still felt nauseous.
Every time he closed his eyes, he was back on the tricycle, speeding crazily, with the surrounding scenery retreating at a terrifyingly fast pace.
Many times, Ma Lu felt he would crash into a vehicle or a pedestrian in the next second, but at the last moment, the tricycle would always miraculously dodge the obstacles ahead with a strange posture and the smallest turning angle.
The most dangerous encounter was when Ma Lu brushed past a dump truck, its mud-splattered headlights almost smashing into his face—if he had been any slower, he would have had to start all over again.
Just before reaching this overpass, the tricycle had even kept pace with a distant high-speed train for a while, eventually leaving it behind.
They didn't stop until they reached a place with hardly any people.
