The young master swept up in praise and the 718 that left first

It was ten thirty on a weekend morning.

The September weather in Jiangcheng still carried the lingering heat of summer.

The sun baked the asphalt until a glaring white sheen rose from its surface.

At the gates of Jiangcheng University, the flow of people was at its peak.

A short, showy roar of an engine burst from the street corner.

The sound carried an unmistakable sense of mechanical power, ripping straight through the clamor outside the gates.

A Miami blue Porsche 718 rolled slowly over the speed bumps before coming to a smooth stop beneath the plane tree closest to the gate.

Chen Ziang sat in the driver's seat.

He had spared no expense today for his first proper appearance since the start of the school year.

He knew perfectly well that the outdoor temperature was already approaching thirty-five degrees, and that the sun overhead was fierce enough to roast the skin off a person.

But when he passed the previous intersection, he had still resolutely pressed the button to lower the convertible top.

The moment the roof folded away, a scorching wave of heat rushed into the cabin.

He had specially picked out a luxurious-looking silk casual shirt for the day, and now the back was soaked with sweat and beginning to feel sticky.

The hairstyle he had carefully sculpted with handfuls of hair gel before leaving that morning had also been mussed by the wind on the drive over.

Fine beads of sweat trickled down from his temples and along his sideburns.

But he still wore his expensive designer sunglasses.

His back was ramrod straight.

One hand rested casually on the steering wheel, while his other arm lounged along the edge of the door.

He did his utmost to maintain the laid-back composure of a local young master driving his sports car out to pick up his friends on the weekend.

The Miami blue sports car was simply too eye-catching.

With the top down, its natural social pressure was turned all the way up.

The gazes of students entering and leaving the university were drawn over almost against their will.

A few girls walking together subconsciously slowed their steps, stealing glances at the driver's seat.

Several boys passing by stared openly at the badge and the blacked-out rims, talking in low voices.

Chen Ziang could clearly feel the gazes converging on him from every direction.

His vanity as a local rich second-generation heir

was finally satisfied to the fullest at that moment.

This was the battlefield he knew best.

As long as the car was parked here, he was the undisputed center of attention.

In the shade beneath the plane tree,

Han Dong was fanning himself desperately with a flyer.

He turned his head and immediately spotted the eye-catching sports car.

The burly man from Northeast China instantly had a green gleam in his eyes.

The flyer in his hand fell to the ground with a plop.

Han Dong covered three steps in two as he rushed out of the shade and practically pounced on the car.

He circled the 718 twice, his booming voice showing no sign of restraint as it pierced straight through the surrounding clamor.

"Holy shit!"

"Boss Chen! What an entrance!"

Han Dong rubbed his hands together in excitement. He reached out to touch the door, only to pull his hand back halfway.

"The convertible top! That color! Oh my god, it's so damn cool!"

"This is the first time in my life I've ever been this close to a real sports car!"

Han Dong's commotion made even more people stop to watch.

Sitting in the car, Chen Ziang actually found Han Dong's country-bumpkin act a little embarrassing.

But he was also hopelessly hooked on the thrill of being placed on a pedestal in public.

He took off his sunglasses, hooked them casually onto his collar, and pulled a carefree smile.

"All right, Dongzi, it's just a way to get around."

"Take as many pictures as you like when you get in later."

Han Dong immediately pulled out his phone.

"You bet! I'm taking a whole bunch today and posting them on my Qzone to give my sheltered buddies back home a real shock."

Compared with Han Dong's sheer, over-the-top amazement, his mind filled with nothing but fucking awesome,

Zhao Yifan's reaction was much quieter.

He walked over slowly from the other side of the shade.

He was still wearing a plain T-shirt without a single logo.

He didn't shout or crowd in to examine the flashy badges.

His gaze merely swept casually over the paint, rims, and center console.

"Miami blue metallic paint with a Bordeaux red leather interior?"

Zhao Yifan stopped in front of the car and looked at Chen Ziang in the driver's seat.

"With those options, the wait must have been pretty long, right?"

Chen Ziang's eyes lit up at once.

Han Dong's praise only gave him an emotional boost, and after hearing enough of it, it was nothing special.

But an expert like Zhao Yifan, who could spot the details at a glance and get straight to the point in a few words, was the kind of person who could truly cement his show of status.

"You're the one who knows your stuff, Yifan."

Chen Ziang patted the steering wheel, pride practically overflowing from his voice.

"The paint and red interior alone came to nearly a hundred thousand."

"Add these twenty-inch blacked-out rims, and I waited several whole months to take delivery with this configuration."

He went on and on about his "new toy," the satisfaction of a rich young master finally finding an outlet.

Zhao Yifan nodded politely.

Of course, he could see it clearly.

The thinking behind the 718's options was simple and blunt.

Every bit of the budget had been poured into the exterior, the color, and the interior-things outsiders could see at a glance.

This was a car made purely to look good, stand out, and satisfy an eighteen-year-old's desire to show off.

Zhao Yifan didn't puncture that pure vanity.

He offered a very fair and tactful assessment.

"The color suits you."

"That combination really stands out when you drive it around campus."

Those words were music to Chen Ziang's ears.

He felt he had thoroughly established himself today.

Chen Ziang raised his wrist and glanced at his luxury watch.

The hands pointed to ten forty.

A full ten minutes had passed since their agreed meeting time.

Lu Chuan still hadn't appeared.

Now that his home-field advantage was firmly established, Chen Ziang had completely relaxed.

He pushed his sunglasses back onto his nose and tapped his fingers lightly against the leather stitching on the steering wheel.

"Why isn't Lu Chuan here yet?"

He glanced around at the nearby intersections, a barely perceptible note of superiority in his voice.

"Look at the time."

"His secondhand car didn't really break down on the way, did it?"

He hadn't deliberately put any malicious aggression into the remark.

It was more like a young man who had been held back in the dorm for several days and had finally gotten his own script, instinctively wanting to edge half a step farther forward.

Han Dong was holding up his phone, furiously snapping pictures of the front of the Porsche.

Hearing that, he lowered his phone, a hint of concern on his face.

"Surely not?"

"Old Lu's usually pretty reliable. It's the weekend, so he's probably stuck in traffic at the intersection."

Han Dong spun the phone around in his hand a couple of times.

"Should I call him and hurry him up? What if he really doesn't know the way, or his car broke down on the road?"

Chen Ziang glanced at the time on his watch.

"If we keep waiting, our reserved time slot at the hot spring spa might be over by the time we get there."

Now it was no longer just a matter of "waiting for their roommate."

After weighing the situation, he promptly made a decision befitting a young master who had everything under control.

Chen Ziang turned to Zhao Yifan.

"Yifan, how about you stay here and wait for Lu Chuan?"

"If he's just stuck in traffic, have him drive straight over and meet us there."

"If his secondhand car really did break down on the way, or he can't get here in time, call me right away."

Chen Ziang rested one hand on the car door, assuming a magnanimous, composed pose.

"Then I'll call my family's driver and have him bring the Mercedes-Benz over to pick you both up and take you to the spa."

"We can't just leave him stranded on the road all weekend."

He now even felt that it wouldn't matter if Lu Chuan's car was a Bentley.

The lead for this first departure of the day had tipped entirely in his favor.

Zhao Yifan stood in the shade of the camphor tree.

He pushed up his nonprescription glasses and raised no objections.

"Okay."

Zhao Yifan answered softly.

"I'll wait for him here."

The convertible 718 had long since left Han Dong itching to get in.

As soon as he heard they could leave first, he excitedly pulled open the passenger door and plopped himself down.

"Then we'll head out first, Yifan. You and Old Lu catch up quick!"

Han Dong held up his phone, having already adjusted the front-facing camera to capture the moment they pulled away with the top down.

Chen Ziang sat in the driver's seat.

He adjusted his collar one last time and pushed up his designer sunglasses, looking his absolute best.

"Then we'll head out first."

"Vroom-!"

The Porsche 718's engine let out a high-pitched roar.

Its wheels rolled over the asphalt.

The Miami blue streamlined body glinted dazzlingly in the sunlight as it slowly drove away from Jiang University's gates, its engine note ostentatious.

In the passenger seat, Han Dong shouted excitedly into the hot wind.

Chen Ziang gripped the steering wheel with both hands, listening to the engine as he confirmed it to himself one last time.

In today's contest,

it was finally his turn to take the first win.

Beneath the plane tree at Jiang University's gates, the usual clamor gradually returned.

Zhao Yifan stood alone at the edge of the shade, both hands tucked into the pockets of his casual trousers.

He watched calmly as the 718 disappeared at the end of the street.

Then he turned and looked toward the intersection in the opposite direction.