Chapter 115: Evolution to Capitalists
Su Mengyao's attempt at an explanation only fueled Feng Dong's suspicion that Yun Zijin had done everything on purpose. Having lost fifty million that he and his associates scraped together, he believed she was flaunting how effortlessly she handled an amount that cost him dearly.
"Feng Dong, why do you keep staring at Zijin like that? It's just a private race, can't you handle losing?" Sheng Yang stepped in front of Yun Zijin, blocking Feng Dong's seething gaze.
"Heh! Since when did Second Young Master Sheng become someone else's lackey?" Feng Dong sneered, shifting his glare from Zijin to Sheng Yang.
"You see others as you are," retorted Su Mengyao, unwilling to let Sheng Yang be insulted. "You're more the 'bootlicker' type—your owner hasn't even appeared this whole time. You risked everything, but no one came to back you up. Seems like you're the one who's not exactly 'qualified.'"
When Zijin first encountered Feng Dong, she'd sensed something off about the way he tried to ingratiate himself with her—or, at least, tried to appear sly. She quietly signaled Lingyi to contact Meilin. The subsequent information Meilin provided stunned Zijin with the complexity of their connections.
On the surface, Feng Dong was a devoted admirer of Xia Jiaojiao, but in fact he was a sycophant of Cen Mulin. He was supposed to ingratiate himself with Jiaojiao to steal bid data from her, all because the Xia and Cen families were locked in competition over a lucrative project. By stirring trouble for Zijin—knowing Jiaojiao disliked her—he was hoping to cement his standing in Jiaojiao's eyes, thereby gaining easier access to whatever he needed.
"I'm just pointing out that you, some country bumpkin who pretends to act all high and mighty, deserve a lesson," Feng Dong snapped, dripping with personal animosity.
Zijin found him not worth responding to. The prize money was in hand, so she turned toward her companions. "Do you still want to race?"
Having come this far, it would be anticlimactic to leave after only one match featuring Zijin. "Of course!" Sheng Yang answered at once. "I'll stake this watch I'm wearing." He pulled off a Cartier Ballon Bleu mechanical watch in rose gold with diamonds, listing at just over 250,000 yuan.
"Hmph, look at you," Fu Yang teased, rolling his eyes. "Once you become a boss, you're turning more like a capitalist daily. And that watch is… less than impressive."
"Hey, it's what I've got," Sheng Yang shot back. "If you don't want it, I'll just take it back." He reached out to grab the watch from the waiter's tray.
Li Yuexuan held it down, stopping him. "The design might not be super pricey, but it's still decent. You can't just bail now."
"Sister Yun, do you want to race with us?" Sheng Yang turned to Yun Zijin eagerly. After watching her performance, he wanted the thrill of competing against her.
But Zijin shook her head. "Another time. I've already raced once, and I'm not at my best for a second. It wouldn't be fair to you guys."
Seeing she'd made up her mind, Sheng Yang and the others didn't press her. Instead, they scouted for other racers in the club. Many nearby would-be drivers jumped at the chance—some to curry favor, others for excitement. Before long, a group had formed, each putting a valuable item on the line: Li Yuexuan's Ferrari 488 keys, Lu Yunfeng and Fu Yang's bank cards, and so forth.
"Hold on, that's a lot of people," Su Mengyao remarked, eyeing the items stacked on a tray the waiter carried. "Isn't it weird for so many to compete?"
"You're dense," Li Yuexuan quipped. "No matter how many sign up, only the top three places matter. The valuables here are plenty enticing for them."
Zijin noticed a club staffer with a notebook, hollering for bets. People could place wagers on whichever racer they thought would end up champion. Naturally, Sheng Yang and the other "princelings" had different odds than the random challengers.
Zijin and Su Mengyao exchanged glances, each scanning a QR code to place a bet. They didn't ask each other whom they bet on. Once done, they handed the staffer's notebook back.
At the starting line below, supercars lined up, engines revving. The referee whistled, and the crowd grew quiet in anticipation. "Aahh! Good luck, Sheng Yang!" Su Mengyao cheered, her voice rising as the drivers pulled on their racing helmets and slid into their seats.
Sheng Yang heard Su Mengyao shouting his name. Glancing her way, he unwittingly drew a wave of excited screams from onlookers. Without others like Lu Yunque or Fu Ze to overshadow him, he garnered plenty of attention himself.
From her vantage point, Zijin smirked at Su Mengyao. "Stop yelling, he won't hear you in that cockpit anyway. You'll just blow out your own voice."
Su Mengyao momentarily paused, considering Zijin's logic. "But if I don't shout, the atmosphere feels off," she admitted.
Zijin shrugged good-naturedly. "Suit yourself," she said, turning back to watch the impending start. The supercars' engines roared in unison, ready to tear up the track.
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