Racing

"What's wrong with my car?" Zhang Heng asked. "In 1983, the first car jointly produced by SAIC and Volkswagen was the Santana, assembled through CKD. It was 4,546 millimeters long, 1,710 millimeters wide, 1,427 millimeters high, weighed 1,100 kg, had a wheelbase of 2,548 millimeters, and came with a 1.6L four-cylinder engine producing a maximum of 87 horsepower."

The girl in the baseball cap was dazed by the barrage of numbers. She knew nothing about cars, but she did know that some classic cars could be worth a fortune. Her expression turned respectful. "Is yours one of the first batch of jointly produced cars?"

"No. Mine's a Santana 3000. Production started in 2004."

"...Then why the hell were you talking about the eighties?" The girl in the baseball cap felt as though she had been played, and her tone turned hostile.

"I was only telling you not to underestimate the Santana," Zhang Heng said.

"Heh. Any car here tonight could buy at least ten of your junk heaps, little brother," the girl in the baseball cap sneered.

"Really? Too bad none of them can outrun my Santana." Zhang Heng's expression did not change.

"Big talk. What, do you think you're driving an AE86?" a tattooed man in a Supreme T-shirt said from the other side.

His words triggered another wave of laughter.

Once the laughter died down a little, the young man smoking on the 911 spoke again. "All right, joke's over." He looked at Zhang Heng and warned, "You'd better leave now."

"We haven't raced yet."

"We don't race outsiders whose backgrounds we don't know," the young man on the 911 said coolly. "Besides, we race for money. Do you have any?"

"How much per race?"

"Thirty thousand. Winner takes all."

"I don't have cash, but I can put