Chapter 7: Drifting With Such An Innocent Face
After the weekend, they entered a new week.
“Yaoyao, how’s your progress chasing him? What stage are you at?” Winnie eagerly probed for gossip.
Meng Shuyou pulled out a chair in the art studio and sat down, pursing her lips.
Winnie excitedly raised her voice, “Kissed? Progress so fast!”
Meng Shuyou’s mouth twitched, “What? He told me to shut up, said I talk too much.”
She didn’t even get his assistant’s contact info; progress was negative.
“Really? He really said that?” Winnie couldn’t believe it, “A beautiful woman like you striking up a conversation, and he doesn’t budge? There must be some reason.”
Meng Shuyou fixed the drawing paper in place and opened the paint palette, “What reason?”
Winnie pursed her lips, “You’re not his preferred gender, duh.”
“Winnie, do you have a filter on me or something?” Meng Shuyou picked up the paintbrush to mix colors, “Him not liking me is totally normal.”
A man of Mister Pei’s status has seen all kinds of women; plenty better than her.
It’s only natural his standards are high.
“It’s not me having a filter on you; you come with your own filter. Look at how many people are chasing you.” Winnie thought for a moment, then quietly asked: “But speaking of which, don’t you have a bit of an M trait? You ignore those who like you and go after those who don’t.”
Meng Shuyou was amused and helpless, “I don’t.”
She was forced into it out of desperation; if she had any choice, she wouldn’t have boldly provoked Pei Yuzhou.
She knew full well that any man in that position had scheming and methods that weren’t simple.
Winnie raised her brow, “So what are you going to do? Give up or keep at it?”
Meng Shuyou’s brush-holding hand paused slightly, and she said wearily: “I don’t know; I don’t even get chances to see him.”
That day his assistant said they were leaving Chicago; who knows where to, or if they’d come back.
Winnie shrugged, “Otherwise, just let nature take its course. If it’s meant to be, you’ll meet; if not, you can’t force it.”
Whether it was meant to be or not, Meng Shuyou didn’t know.
As a university student, how could she have any intersection with a group president.
“Hi, your favorite beauty is back!” The voice arrived before the person, as enthusiastic and lively as ever.
Meng Shuyou and Winnie turned back at the same time.
A bright figure walked in.
Winnie was surprised, “How are you back early? Weren’t you supposed to be back next week?”
Mia came over and draped her arms around both their shoulders, “Surprised? Unexpected? My study trip ended early!”
Meng Shuyou set down the paint palette to avoid getting it on her, “You came back and kept it from us.”
“Looks like you had a pretty carefree month.” Winnie pinched her rosy cheek—it was obvious her vitality was strong—”Where’s your Italian hunk?”
“Broke up.” Mia didn’t care, “I’m about to head back; who does long-distance with him.”
Winnie gave a thumbs up, “Impressive.”
Handling feelings freely, heartless, no suffering from love.
Mia turned to look at Meng Shuyou, “Baby, let’s go racing next week. Haven’t touched a steering wheel in over a month; my hands are itching!”
Meng Shuyou nodded, “Yeah, sure.”
She really did want to release some stress lately.
“Why not ask me?” Winnie put on an exaggerated act, “Three-person friendships are always too crowded anyway; maybe I should just bow out.”
Mia laughed, “Get real; you don’t even have a driver’s license.”
Winnie wasn’t convinced, “Can’t I sit in the co-pilot seat?”
Mia had no objection, “Fine, sit if you won’t puke.”
–
The race track was located on a mountain range on the outskirts of Chicago.
The track wound serpentinely along the mountainside, with sixteen bends and multiple straightaways, like veins unfurling.
In the club private room at the mountaintop, tea aroma filled the air.
Top-quality Jin Gong tea, skipping the first brew for the best taste.
The assistant waited at the doorway.
Inside, the matters were nearing the end.
Zhao Hesong glanced at the track outside, itching to go, “Brother Zhou, wanna play a round down there later?”
The man opposite lounged in a posture both lazy and noble, holding a tea cup, tilting his head to eye him, “Not afraid to die?”
Zhao Hesong smiled, “Cherish life or not, if you don’t seek some stimulation in life, what’s the point.”
Ever since the last accident, the old man at home had strictly forbidden him from touching cars.
Pei Yuzhou saw through it, “Using me as a shield? You’re pretty clever.”
Zhao Hesong sighed lightly, “No choice.”
Pei Yuzhou ignored him lazily, picked up the lighter on the table, flicked it open, rubbed the flint with his thumb, and lit a cigar.
Faint noisy sounds came from downstairs.
Zhao Hesong called over a server and asked: “What’s going on down there? So rowdy?”
The server relayed, “Wilson’s third young master is troubling some beauties; they had words, and now both sides are racing.”
“Picking up girls this way?” Zhao Hesong teased, “Has the competition started?”
Server: “Just started.”
He got interested, “Switch to the live feed.”
How could he miss the spectacle.
“Brother Zhou, you don’t mind, right?” Zhao Hesong sought permission.
Pei Yuzhou didn’t respond; up to him.
Only then did the server turn on the LCD big screen on the wall.
Half an hour earlier.
Meng Shuyou and Mia were picking out race cars in the garage when they ran into some young masters looking for trouble, starting with sarcasm.
“Girls should obediently sit in the co-pilot seat; what racing.”
Mia’s fiery temper couldn’t tolerate it, “Why should girls sit co-pilot? Who says? How good are your skills? What are you so smug about?”
The other side sneered, “Questioning my driving? Wanna race?”
Mia glared at him, “Race then! Who’s scared!”
“Since it’s a competition, there needs to be a bet.” Wilson eyed Meng Shuyou, flashing a roguish grin, “If I win, that beauty next to you sits co-pilot with me today and keeps me company.”
Mia couldn’t help cursing, “You’re insane.”
So that was his scheme.
Winnie pulled Mia back, “Forget it; don’t bother with this kind of person.”
Wilson wouldn’t quit until he got his way, “What, scared? If you’re scared, don’t race anymore.”
Mia was about to retort when Meng Shuyou suddenly spoke: “I’ll race you. If you win, it’s your call. But if you lose, apologize to us and steer clear whenever you see us from now on.”
Wilson stared at her slender frame, “You sure?”
Meng Shuyou nodded, “Sure.”
The track was fully monitored with real-time broadcast, high-definition footage.
Two supercars sped off one after another, one black and one blue; the black one temporarily led by half a bend, while the blue one didn’t seem hurried, maintaining its speed.
The front car accelerated, eager to pull away; the rear car chased relentlessly.
Engine roars intertwined with the whistling wind; tires kicked up dust on the asphalt track.
Lightning-fast, the scenery on both sides blurred into afterimages.
At the final bend, the blue supercar suddenly surged, brushing past the guardrail, carving a perfect arc, and smoothly overtook.
Throttle floored, it broke through the finish line at top speed, spun 90°, and braked to a stop.
Winnie and Mia screamed excitedly from the stands, “Ahhhh—won! Won! Yaoyao’s badass!”
The person in the car got out and removed the helmet.
A gust of wind blew, tousling her hair back, revealing her full face.
Zhao Hesong stared blankly, “Damn, drifting with such a pure face!”
Pei Yuzhou shifted his gaze from his mobile phone, lifting his eyes casually.
This face was not unfamiliar.
