Gold-Devouring Bottom: A Guide to Pampering - Chapter 17

“It’s just a game. There’s no need to take it so seriously.” These twelve words were the extent of the concern Ye Xiuchen was capable of expressing for another person.

How could I not take it seriously? If he lost, wouldn’t he be letting Han Xu slap his face in front of all these people? Plus, Han Xu would get a prime piece of land for free, and his ego would soar to the heavens!

So, he couldn’t lose. “I won’t lose. This racetrack is as good as mine!”

Ye Xiuchen faced the night, his expression obscured. Shen Xinghuai could only hear his voice, which was heavier than the darkness. “I can build one for you.”

“No! I want to snatch Han Xu’s! That’ll teach him to run his mouth.” Villains needed to be taught a lesson. Besides, Shen Xinghuai was highly confident in his skills.

Ye Xiuchen seemed particularly fond of exhaling deeply tonight; it was as if he’d found a new way to suppress his manic agitation.

In the past, whenever he was provoked, he would lose control—saying the most vicious things and doing the cruelest deeds. No matter who they were, if they crossed him, they paid the price.

But tonight, the person who provoked him the most was Shen Xinghuai. Yet, looking at Shen Xinghuai’s face and meeting his eyes, the harsh words simply wouldn’t come out. He was left with nothing but a sense of helpless resignation.

Tian Yuanyuan parked the car at the podium entrance and ran to Shen Xinghuai like a whirlwind. At this moment, he wasn’t even afraid of Ye Xiuchen; his eyes were fixed solely on Shen. “Huai-huai, are you really going to race Han Xu?”

Shen Xinghuai nodded, pointing at the track below. “It’s about to be mine.”

Tian Yuanyuan’s gaze darted between him and Ye Xiuchen, his expression unreadable. Is madness contagious? “What do you even want this place for? You don’t even like racing.”

This time, Shen Xinghuai could legitimately snatch the keys from his hand. As he walked toward the track, he tossed back: “I’m going to win it, flatten it, and use the space for square dancing.”

Tian Yuanyuan trotted after him, nagging incessantly about the danger, the impulsiveness, and not doing things he’d regret. By the time they reached the car, Shen Xinghuai’s ears felt like they were growing callouses. He dove into the car and rolled down the window, signaling Tian Yuanyuan to move aside.

The car and the track were both unfamiliar; he needed to do a warm-up lap. After one circuit, he had to admit that Tian Yuanyuan’s “Little Fa” felt pretty good.

When the car reached the starting line, Han Xu was already waiting. Shen Xinghuai stepped out, and Han Xu sized him up before settling his gaze on the Ferrari. “Nice car,” he said sourly.

Shen Xinghuai arched an eyebrow, scanning Han Xu’s vehicle with the same critical look. “Yours is a bit lacking.”

Han Xu: “…”

His fists clenched at his sides. After a long silence, he choked out: “Let’s begin. See you at the podium.” He turned and climbed into his car, slamming the door hard.

Shen Xinghuai curled his lip and got into his own seat. But the moment his backside hit the chair, he practically jumped out of his skin. The previously empty passenger seat was now occupied by a very large Tian Yuanyuan!

“How did you get in here?” Shen Xinghuai hadn’t noticed him at all.

Tian Yuanyuan gave a strained smile. “I don’t feel right letting you drive alone. I’m coming with you.”

Shen Xinghuai unbuckled Tian Yuanyuan’s seatbelt and tried to shove him out. “No way! Get out!”

He was confident, but this game wasn’t without risk. Driving at 200 km/h toward a ten-meter drop was life-threatening; he couldn’t let Tian Yuanyuan take that risk with him.

“I’m not getting out!” Tian Yuanyuan clung to the seat like a stubborn child.

Shen Xinghuai pried his left hand off, but his right hand gripped tighter. When he went for the right, the left grabbed the seat again. Within minutes, Shen Xinghuai was sweating from the struggle. “Tian Yuanyuan!”

Knock, knock! The passenger window was tapped. Tian Yuanyuan turned and nearly jumped out of his skin.

Shen Xinghuai lowered the window. Before he could speak, Ye Xiuchen barked: “Get out!”

Tian Yuanyuan squeezed his eyes shut. “No!”

Then, he was unceremoniously hauled out of the car by Ye Xiuchen.

Before Shen Xinghuai could even say thank you, the passenger seat was occupied again. After the struggle with Tian Yuanyuan, his energy was depleted, and with the race about to start, he couldn’t afford another fight. He tried reasoning: “You shouldn’t sit there. It adds weight and messes with my judgment.”

Ye Xiuchen acted as if he were deaf, calmly buckling his seatbelt.

“Brother, it’s dangerous. You can’t come.”

Ye Xiuchen glanced at him and huffed: “Shut up.”

Han Xu was already honking his horn in impatience. Shen Xinghuai grabbed Ye Xiuchen’s arm and shook it. “I know what I’m doing; there won’t be any danger. Just wait for me down there, okay? You have to trust me.”

Ye Xiuchen remained unmoved. “Either I sit here, or you withdraw.”

Shen Xinghuai froze, staring at him. Finally, he yielded, handing his helmet to Ye Xiuchen. “Fine. Put this on.” He then waved Tian Yuanyuan over to get another one for himself.

The track was cleared, and the spectators retreated to the stands. Since it was just a two-car duel rather than a formal race, many of the usual preliminaries were skipped. The flagman waved the green flag, and the countdown began.

The two cars sat side-by-side, their engines roaring so loudly they shook the entire stadium. Shen Xinghuai gripped the wheel, his entire focus pinned on the track ahead. In the passenger seat, Ye Xiuchen was focused solely on him.

The lights flashed: five, four, three, two, one!

Both cars shot forward.

Han Xu kept his speed locked with Shen Xinghuai’s, driving almost perfectly parallel, clearly intending to settle the score then and there. But Shen Xinghuai didn’t care about him; he was moving entirely to his own rhythm.

He had raced countless times, but this was the first time someone had sat in his passenger seat. Although Ye Xiuchen sat in silence, so still he almost seemed not to be there, the feeling was fundamentally different.

Years of racing experience and instinct kept his focus sharp, but something deep inside him had shifted. It was a change Shen Xinghuai couldn’t define and didn’t have the luxury to analyze, so he let it develop, following his most basic instincts.

He had to win, but he also had to stop safely before that line. Winning was for himself; safety was because Ye Xiuchen was beside him.

The first lap ended quickly. After the curve, he and Han Xu entered the first speed trap—200 km/h minimum. Beyond that was a ramp leading to the high point parallel with the podium, where another speed trap was set.

The truly heart-stopping moment began now.

Shen Xinghuai crossed the final speed trap at over 200 km/h. Ahead was a hundred-meter straightaway that ended exactly where the podium ended. From this moment on, he had to judge with absolute precision and react with lightning speed. Every second was a razor’s edge; a delay of a fraction of a second would send car and passengers flying off the edge to be smashed to pieces.

The moment he passed the sensor, Shen Xinghuai adjusted his throttle. He wanted to be a winner, not a martyr. In the blink of an eye, the car entered the final fifty-meter danger zone. Shen Xinghuai slammed the brakes with crisp, decisive movements.

High-speed inertia carried the car forward. The edge of the podium appeared, closer and closer, and the car was still sliding.

The edge vanished from view, replaced by the LED strips of the grandstands. In that instant, the world froze. The car came to a dead stop.

Shen Xinghuai slowly exhaled the breath he’d been holding in his throat. His hands, which had been white-knuckling the steering wheel, lost all their tension. Amidst the deafening cheers from outside, Shen Xinghuai removed his helmet.

He didn’t look at the crowd screaming for him; instead, he instinctively turned to the passenger seat.

Ye Xiuchen was already looking at him. Their eyes met, and for a long moment, neither spoke.

After ten seconds, Shen Xinghuai’s long lashes fluttered. His lips moved slightly: “Brother.”

Ye Xiuchen’s dark eyes were like a mirror-still lake. Shen Xinghuai’s soft call was the pebble that broke the surface, sending ripples across the water.

“Mm.”

For the first time, Ye Xiuchen responded to the title.

Shen Xinghuai broke into a smile. The next second, a large hand reached over and ruffled his messy hair. The man’s voice, no longer so cold, sounded in the cabin: “Let’s get out.”

Shen Xinghuai pushed open the door, clutching his helmet. Behind the car were long, dark skid marks; ahead, just inches from the front tires, was the drop down to the track below.

The spectators from the stands swarmed toward them. Tian Yuanyuan was the first to reach him, followed by his friends. They surrounded him in silence for two seconds before Tian Yuanyuan grabbed his arm, and the others followed suit, hoisting him up and tossing him into the air.

The victory was undeniable. The celebration and the cheers were exactly what Shen Xinghuai deserved.

Han Xu’s car was parked nearby, having stopped half a car-length behind Shen Xinghuai’s. That glaring gap in distance officially declared Shen Xinghuai the winner.

Han Xu was still in his car, staring fixedly at Shen Xinghuai as he was mobbed by the crowd. The hypocritical mask he’d worn all night was finally shattered; he couldn’t keep the act up anymore. He admitted it to himself—the moment he crossed that speed trap and headed toward the edge, he had been terrified.

Looking at the sharp line of the podium’s edge, he had broken into a cold sweat. He didn’t dare go any further; every cell in his body screamed at him to escape. He couldn’t understand—he wouldn’t believe—how he, with nearly ten years of racing experience starting from his teens, had lost to someone who looked like he’d never stepped foot on a racetrack before.

What frustrated him most was the realization that Shen Xinghuai hadn’t won by mere luck; he possessed absolute precision in judgment and superb driving skills.

Tossing his helmet onto the passenger seat, Han Xu took several deep breaths before finally pushing open the car door.

The moment he stepped out, every eye in the venue locked onto him.

It wasn’t just Shen Xinghuai who remembered—everyone present recalled the stakes of their wager: if Shen Xinghuai won, the racetrack would be his.

Han Xu was well aware of the crowd’s expectations; they were waiting for him to speak.

Though he was consumed by regret and resentment, he couldn’t let it show. He had already been humiliated enough tonight; he couldn’t afford to lose the racetrack and have people branding him a sore loser on top of it.

Forcing his lips to curve, he managed a bitter smile that stood in jarring contrast to the look in his eyes. “Xinghuai, this racetrack belongs to you now.”