After Zuo Cheng finished the call and came out, Bian Yiqiu had already passed out on the bed, completely naked.

In fact, being this drunk, even if there were ten people to warm the bed, nothing would happen. But for the sake of his own chastity, Zuo Cheng firmly believed that it would be safer to tuck a thoughtful little thing into his bed.

So, when Bian Yiqiu woke up from his hangover the next day, he found someone in his arms.

The soft, jet-black hair and the fair, clean skin gave him a remarkably youthful and delicate appearance. He was deep in sleep, with his eyelids gently closed and his long, thick lashes curling. It wasn’t hard to imagine how vivid and beautiful his eyes would be once they opened. What was rare, though, was that this young man had none of the usual scent of the nightlife; instead, he exuded a refreshing, clean fragrance, as if he had just bathed, which made Boss Bian very pleased.

While exploring the smooth, bare skin of the young man under the covers, Bian Yiqiu thought to himself that Zuo Cheng was becoming more and more capable.

The young man woke up, his doe-like eyes blinking, still somewhat drowsy and full of innocence and confusion.

Bian Yiqiu was almost immediately captivated by those eyes. With a quick roll, he pinned the young man beneath him, grinning wickedly, “Good morning, little sweet pie.”

Zuo Cheng, now more skilled at handling things, heard the rising seductive noises from the master bedroom and, quite satisfied, hummed a tune as he went downstairs to have the kitchen prepare breakfast.

It wasn’t until noon that Bian Yiqiu appeared in the dining room, refreshed, while the little sweet pie he had worn out was still unable to get out of bed.

The winter sun at noon poured in through the large arched floor-to-ceiling windows, spreading a layer of bright golden specks across the carpet. In the sunlit dining room, Boss Bian, in a good mood, finished the breakfast that could already be considered lunch and cheerfully asked, “What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”

Zuo Cheng, who juggled multiple roles as bodyguard, driver, secretary, nanny, and occasionally even played procurer, dutifully responded, “This afternoon, you have a golf game scheduled with Mr. Tan from Qiguang.”

“Qiguang?” Bian Yiqiu thought for three seconds before remembering what Mr. Tan looked like. He immediately made an expression that was hard to describe, then calmly said two words, “Cancel it.”

Zuo Cheng twitched the corner of his mouth. “Qiguang is Hongyuan’s biggest client.”

“But I have something very important this afternoon,” Bian Yiqiu shrugged, showing that he was helpless.

Zuo Cheng wiped his face in frustration, thinking, Who are you trying to fool, boss? If you think he’s ugly, just say it!

In fact, Bian Yiqiu wasn’t lying this time. Compared to Mr. Tan from Qiguang, the strength of Huarui and the appearance of Ruan Chengjie were naturally more appealing. Anyone with good judgment would know who to choose to meet between these two.

When Ruan Chengjie called, he was pressing the little sweet pie beneath him, fucking him until he was screaming. Taking the call didn’t slow down his movements or intensity in the slightest as he continued his rhythm without missing a beat.

On the other end of the line, Ruan Chengjie was forced to listen to a rather vivid scene first thing in the morning.

Scenes like this were all too common within their circle, so Ruan didn’t give it a second thought. Amid the increasingly loud moans from Bian Yiqiu’s sweet little treat, he calmly invited him to race at Wuye Mountain that afternoon.

Bian Yiqiu’s slightly heavy breathing, tinged with a laugh, drifted into Ruan Chengjie’s ears, his tone as casual as ever: “Sure.”

What he didn’t know was that, on the other end, Ruan Chengjie stood in his nine-figure mansion, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the lush green grounds, which stayed vibrant even in winter, a subtle shift flickered in his eyes.

—————

Bian Yiqiu drove his flashy Porsche 918 to the starting point of the Wuye Mountain racetrack, where a group of wealthy second-generation elites had already gathered. At a glance, the place was filled with luxury cars—Pagani, McLaren, Aston Martin, Lamborghini, and even two imposing Bugatti Veyrons. The scene could rival the strongest international supercar exhibition. There were all kinds of beautiful women and handsome men, with long legs, curvy figures, and slender builds. Some were striking poses in front of their cars, while others were playfully flirting with the young heirs, creating a spectacular scene.

Bian Yiqiu’s interest in racing was definitely greater than in off-roading. When he was in a bad mood, he liked to take his car for a few acceleration drifts on the mountain roads. Although he couldn’t compare to professional drivers, he did know a thing or two about sports cars. For example, those two guys driving Bugattis were definitely not here to race—they were just here to show off their wealth.

For some reason, Bian Yiqiu suddenly remembered how Ke Mingxuan had once mocked him as a nouveau riche. He really should let that jerk see what a true nouveau riche looked like—at least he knew that his 918 was the most technologically advanced, fastest accelerating supercar on the market, with no equal.

The McLaren P1 on the left was also impressive, though the LaFerrari next to it was even better. The rest on the track were just trash… Wait, a LaFerrari? There’s actually a LaFerrari here?!

Bian Yiqiu stared intently at the bright red LaFerrari, which was even flashier than his own flashy yellow 918, almost wanting to embed it into his vision.

The name Ferrari represents an absolute eternal classic in the world of supercars. As Ferrari’s new flagship supercar replacing the Enzo, the LaFerrari boasts extraordinary performance, aerodynamic efficiency, and handling, setting a new benchmark in the supercar world that grabs everyone’s attention.

Equipped with the HY-KERS hybrid system, a 6.3-liter V12 naturally aspirated engine, and a combined output of 708 kW, it achieves a top speed of over 350 km/h. Especially impressive is its rapid acceleration, which nearly outclasses all other sports cars on the market, including the high-priced Bugatti. It’s practically a fighter jet among supercars! Whether it’s the appearance or the specs, everything about it is enough to make any car enthusiast’s heart race with excitement, and of course, Bian Yiqiu was no exception.

The key point isn’t how great the car is, but how difficult it is to get. It’s a limited edition, with only 499 units produced worldwide. The rarity makes it highly coveted—anything labeled “limited edition” is guaranteed to cause a frenzy, with consumers eager to fight for it.

Bian Yiqiu had once really, really wanted to get one, but he never succeeded. Because owning this car isn’t just about having money—it’s not that simple. If you owned Ferrari’s previous flagship models, the Enzo and F50, it was easier; you could directly submit an application. If you didn’t own them, though, unfortunately, you’re no longer considered a top-tier customer. But if you still insisted on buying one, it wasn’t impossible. You would first need to own several non-flagship Ferrari models before you could even apply.

Ferrari would compile the application data of all customers who requested to purchase the LaFerrari but did not own an Enzo or F50, and assess them accordingly. The more regular Ferrari models a customer owned, the higher their priority. So, if you wanted to successfully buy a LaFerrari, the best strategy would be to buy every Ferrari model available—even Enzo and F50 were limited editions, so don’t hope for another chance to get them.

When Ye Zhen told him this harsh conclusion while holding her laptop, Bian Yiqiu’s reaction was to bury his head in the sofa and cry for a while. He then directed his deep envy, jealousy, and frustration toward the 499 customers who were eligible to purchase a LaFerrari, among which, of course, was her.

Bian Yiqiu stopped the car, opened the door, and slammed it shut with a force that reflected a complex, indescribable emotion. He walked toward the car of his dreams, a feeling similar to what he experienced every time he saw Lu Xiao. Despite his long-standing affection, Lu Xiao was simply not meant to be his.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Zuo Cheng couldn’t understand what had triggered his boss’s mood. He got out from the other side of the car and followed closely behind.

It seemed the person inside noticed Bian Yiqiu approaching, as the butterfly-wing doors, slanted upwards, slowly began to rise, like a fiery red butterfly poised to take flight, so cool it could blind one’s eyes.

Bian Yiqiu muttered a curse under his breath, “Damn, does it really have to be like this…”

Before he could finish, a long leg stepped onto the ground, followed by the half-covered face of Ruan Chengjie, hidden behind a huge pair of sunglasses.

Luxury cars, handsome men—both of these were things Boss Bian had no resistance against. Ruan Chengjie was definitely doing this on purpose.

“Finally here. I was beginning to think, with a spring night so warm under the hibiscus curtain, Boss Bian couldn’t bear to get out of bed.” Ruan Chengjie said, his words carrying a subtle glance at Zuo Cheng.

“How can those insignificant little things compare to President Ruan?” Bian Yiqiu replied, though his eyes were still on the car.

It was unclear whether Boss Bian’s words had cleared up the misunderstanding about Zuo Cheng, or if Ruan Chengjie had come to the conclusion that Zuo Cheng couldn’t possibly be the sweet little thing from this morning. Either way, Ruan Chengjie looked back at Bian Yiqiu and smiled. “Do you like it?”

“That’s a pointless question,” Bian Yiqiu replied, tapping the car’s hood. “Ask anyone here, who wouldn’t like it?”

Ruan Chengjie, fully aware of LaFerrari’s allure to men, chuckled. “If you like it, I’ll give it to you.”

“Sure, I’ll drive it away later,” Bian Yiqiu joked, accepting the offer without hesitation.

Ruan Chengjie continued smiling, not pushing the topic further. Instead, he glanced at his watch, pointed to the racetrack, and asked, “Want to race?”

“Let’s go,” Bian Yiqiu responded eagerly.

Ruan Chengjie added, “Do you want to drive mine?”

“No, let’s see how I’ll beat you with my 918,” Bian Yiqiu replied, throwing him a teasing glance before turning to walk toward his Porsche.

Wuye Mountain wasn’t an officially recognized racetrack; it was essentially an illegal spot where a group of wealthy and powerful second-generation heirs privately raced cars. The police had repeatedly prohibited racing at Wuye Mountain, but no one listened, and no one could enforce the law. Over time, it became widely recognized as a prime spot for car enthusiasts in Z City.

The track wasn’t very long, spanning less than seven kilometers, but Wuye Mountain was a treacherous terrain of ridges and cliffs. The winding mountain road was filled with sharp twists and turns, making it exceptionally perilous. Among its most infamous sections was the “Six Gates of Hell”—six consecutive hairpin bends that seemed like portals to doom. On one side loomed jagged cliffs, while the other plunged into the roaring sea below. A single mistake could result in fatal consequences. The race required constant acceleration, deceleration, shifting gears, and precise line control. Without exceptional skill and a fearless attitude, it was difficult to finish the race safely in a short amount of time.

For all the young heirs at the scene, none dared challenge Bian Yiqiu, especially when it came to life-risking feats. He had passed through real “gates of hell” countless times and had always managed to survive, escaping danger by the skin of his teeth. He firmly believed that his life was tough enough that even the King of Hell wouldn’t dare to take him.

A blonde beauty with ample curves, wearing tight leather pants that accentuated her figure, raised the flag and shouted, “Let’s Go.” In the next moment, the bright yellow Porsche 918 roared ahead, leading the race.

The 918 could accelerate from 0 to 100 km/h in just 2.6 seconds, making it the fastest supercar in the world, nearly 3 seconds faster than the LaFerrari. But when it came to later-stage acceleration, it couldn’t compare. Bian Yiqiu knew this, so he aimed to gain an edge at the start, pulling ahead of Ruan Chengjie. In racing, every millisecond counted—no matter how small, that fraction of a second could determine the winner.

In reality, when it came to two peak supercars like these, straight-line acceleration was a minor factor; what truly mattered was the driver’s control over the car.

Ruan Chengjie, as a racing enthusiast, might not have had more practical experience than Bian Yiqiu, but his skills in handling a car were likely more refined.

Bian Yiqiu, however, was someone who didn’t play by the rules, whether in a fight or on the road. For him, speed and courage were enough to overpower his opponents. Technique was just an afterthought, something he believed would come with experience.

Bian Yiqiu had raced on the Wuye Mountain track countless times under various conditions, to the point where he could practically drive it with his eyes closed. The so-called “Six Gates of Hell” were far from as terrifying as the legends suggested, but the key was knowing exactly when to accelerate, brake, and shift gears—any delay of even a second could lead to disaster. Techniques like drifting might impress a crowd or win over someone, but when it came to high-stakes racing, such showy moves were a recipe for disaster if not executed with precision. If you weren’t careful, you’d end up with a brutal crash.

Bian Yiqiu’s love for racing was never about showing off his skills or flaunting his car; it was about the sensation of transcending everything in that extreme speed. In those moments, all he could focus on was the road ahead, his entire being absorbed in the present. His heart and soul seemed to struggle to keep up with his body’s speed, the scenery on both sides becoming mere shadows, and the cheers of the crowd fading into insignificance. It was as though he had entered another dimension, where only the surging dopamine and burning adrenaline told him just how exhilarating it was to leave the whole world behind.

Two streaks of yellow and red light howled through the forest-covered mountain road, so fast that it was nearly impossible to distinguish them as two sports cars. The LaFerrari clung closely to the 918, nearly neck-and-neck on one stretch of the track, with a subtle hint of overtaking.

The cold winter wind cut through the mountains, chilling to the bone, sweeping in from the distant sea level. The gusts made the bare stones atop the peaks tremble, sending sharp sounds echoing through the air. The roar of the powerful engines reverberated in the wind, their persistent echoes vibrating in the eardrums of all the spectators.

The winding mountain road twisted and turned, while drones followed the racers’ path, relaying real-time footage. A group of second-generation rich heirs, fully equipped, watched intently. As the 918 took the lead into the first bend of the “Six Gates Of Hell” everyone unconsciously held their breath.

The first bend was sharp and narrow. Both cars had been racing at nearly 300 km/h in sixth gear on the straightaway, and failing to brake in time meant certain disaster. As Ruan Chengjie hit the brakes, he noticed Bian Yiqiu wasn’t slowing down. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Just as disaster seemed inevitable, Bian Yiqiu swiftly dropped to first gear, the car’s rear end swinging out in a deadly arc, like the sweep of a scythe. In one fluid motion, he tore through the bend, pulling far ahead in an instant.

The tires screamed in a high-pitched shriek, and several stones shot off the ground, striking the jagged cliffs below. For a moment, everyone’s hearts seemed to plummet with those stones, and even those standing on solid ground felt a dizzying sense of weightlessness.

The screen fell silent for two seconds before erupting in an earth-shattering roar of cheers and shouts.

Zuo Cheng stood emotionless at the side, feeling an overwhelming sense of bitterness for what felt like the umpteenth time—being Bian Yiqiu’s bodyguard. If there was ever a moment he felt completely helpless, it was without a doubt during Bian Yiqiu’s car races. All he could do was stand and watching. No matter how skilled he was in hand-to-hand combat or marksmanship, it was of no use. And his heart, already pushed to its limits time and again by his boss’s intense challenges, would eventually give out.

After the bend, Bian Yiqiu shifted to fifth gear immediately, accelerating to 260 km/h. Just before the second bend, he quickly dropped to third gear, smoothly passing at 170 km/h. Then, he pressed the gas pedal again, bringing it to 230 km/h, and five seconds later, he shifted to second gear to navigate the third bend.

After the three bends, there was the fastest straight stretch of the entire track, the only place where Ruan Chengjie might have a chance to overtake him before the finish line.

Bian Yiqiu gripped the steering wheel tightly, veins bulging in his hands. His eyes didn’t blink for a second. With a sudden press of the accelerator, he slammed it down to the floor, shifting to sixth gear. The gauge needle spun wildly, pointing straight to the 918’s top speed. The tires screeched against the road, emitting the smell of burning rubber, and were quickly swept up by the wind generated by the Porsche’s high-speed rush, scattering everything in its wake.

Ruan Chengjie fell behind at the first bend, and by the time he made it through the third, Bian Yiqiu was already accelerating down the straight. Bian Yiqiu was using that time gap to his advantage, but the LaFerrari’s late-stage acceleration was monstrous. Even though the 918 had a five-or six-second lead, it was quickly being caught up. Luckily, the fourth bend was right ahead. Bian Yiqiu smirked to himself, Let’s see if you’re brave enough to risk it.

Clearly, Ruan Chengjie wasn’t looking to risk his life. Slowing down before the bend was basic instinct, but Bian Yiqiu always had a way of making everyone think he would fly off the mountain road, only to slam on the brakes at the last moment. Shifting from 6th to 2nd gear, half the car’s body nearly lifted off the ground as it scraped along the cliffside, exiting the bend safely and once again leaving Ruan Chengjie trailing behind.