Zhong Ziyan believed that one should always rely on oneself. She asked Wei Hanyun about the preferences of a few elders, gathered the intel, and then went online to do some research. Out of habit, she also turned to her Weibo followers for help.
Thanks to Luo Yin’s birthday celebration not long ago, Zhong Ziyan’s Weibo was buzzing with real, active users.
Her previous post already had hundreds of comments.
Amidst the flood of remarks like “This swimming pool is bigger than my entire house,” “I can’t even begin to imagine the joys of being rich,” and “More glimpses into the lives of the wealthy, please!!!” the top comment stood out:
【@LouIsSlackingAgain: Hello??? A private swimming pool??? If you’ve got money to burn, you could always donate it to poor folks like me. Thanks.】
Zhong Ziyan could relate. Her first reaction upon seeing the private swimming pool had been exactly the same.
—Who in their right mind installs a 50-meter Olympic-sized pool at home?! Do they just have too much money lying around?!
But!
Now, Zhong Ziyan was no longer the same easily startled person she once was.
Calmly switching tabs, she posted her plea for help: “What’s the most expensive tea out there? And where can I buy it?”
A few replies popped up instantly, but they were mostly just fans rushing to grab a front-row seat in the comments section.
By the time Zhong Ziyan finished her shower and returned, her question had finally received some substantial answers.
【@LemonIncarnate: As someone whose family owns tea plantations, I’ll say this—if you’re gifting to a tea connoisseur and have the budget and connections, go for Da Hong Pao. You got the means to buy it, rich lady? [melon emoji][sly glance emoji]】
Of course, Zhong Ziyan didn’t have any connections, so she immediately turned to the butler for help.
The butler understood right away. “There’s a renowned tea house that Mr. Wei frequents. I can arrange a car for you to visit tomorrow if you’d like?”
Zhong Ziyan happily agreed.
But the next day, just as she was about to leave, Wei Hanyun unexpectedly returned.
“I promised to go with you to pick it out, and I happen to be free this afternoon,” he said.
Well, since he was already here, Zhong Ziyan could only reply, “Sure.”
The driver was promptly put on standby.
However, before heading out, Zhong Ziyan voiced her desire to take the wheel: “I want to drive.”
Having a chauffeur was convenient, luxurious, and undeniably cool… but relying on one all the time felt like something was missing—like the adrenaline rush of speeding down the road!
“Do you have a license?” Wei Hanyun asked, seemingly indifferent.
Zhong Ziyan thought for a moment.
—Main System, if I don’t have a driver’s license, I’ll destroy the world.
Then she reached into her pocket and, sure enough, pulled out a driver’s license she definitely hadn’t put there herself.
She flashed it at Fang Nan with absolute confidence. “I do.”
A veteran driver of countless years in the Infinite Space—still alive and kicking. You can trust her!
Fang Nan gave her a long, scrutinizing look before turning to Wei Hanyun. “…Boss, I have something to say.”
“You doubt my driving skills,” Zhong Ziyan cut in, raising an eyebrow. “I can even fly helicopters.”
This traced back to her team’s history of being so broke in missions that they often had to hijack vehicles—whether from NPCs or rival squads, whatever was convenient and high-tech.
The key to a successful heist was speed. The faster they could commandeer a vehicle and take off, the higher their success rate.
Years of practice had honed their skills to near-perfection.
—A measly supercar was nothing to Zhong Ziyan!
“…To my knowledge, you don’t possess a civilian pilot’s license,” Fang Nan adjusted his glasses and stated firmly.
Zhong Ziyan dug into her pants pocket again and pulled out a second certificate. “I do.”
Fang Nan barely suppressed a curse. “…??” Was that a Doraemon-style fourth-dimensional pocket?!
Wei Hanyun, watching Zhong Ziyan outmaneuver Fang Nan, casually gestured toward the garage with one hand in his pocket, granting her full access. “Pick one.”
Zhong Ziyan dashed straight to the garage, plucked the Aston Martin key from the newly installed key cabinet, and turned to Wei Hanyun with the most earnest gaze. “I’ve been wanting to drive this one for ages.”
Supercars were undeniably cool, but most didn’t have back seats, making them off-limits when a chauffeur was involved.
After riding in the most expensive cars in Wei Hanyun’s collection, Zhong Ziyan had finally set her sights on the sleekest one.
She didn’t know the model, but its aerodynamic, power-packed design screamed speed the moment you hit the gas.
“Go ahead,” Wei Hanyun nodded.
Fang Nan looked like he wanted to protest but held his tongue.
In the end, with Wei Hanyun’s blessing, Zhong Ziyan triumphantly took the all-black, red-accented Aston Martin for a spin, with Wei Hanyun seated beside her in the passenger seat—his aristocratic demeanor clashing amusingly with the supercar’s aggressive vibe.
Zhong Ziyan thought for a second, then handed him a pair of sunglasses. “Want these?”
Wei Hanyun took them and put them on without a second thought. Out of nowhere, the chauffeur appeared, tapping on the driver’s side window to hand Zhong Ziyan a matching pair in a different color.
“…Couple sunglasses!” Zhong Ziyan slid them onto her nose, then smoothly spun the steering wheel with one hand, expertly maneuvering the car out of the garage.
…Only to find herself sandwiched between two escort vehicles.
She could clearly see Fang Nan sitting in the lead car.
Fang Nan checked his watch and instructed the driver, “Keep an eye on the speed.”
The moment he spoke, he felt a burning sensation on his back, as if someone had just glared daggers at him.
But Fang Nan, a seasoned veteran, was used to being cursed behind his back. Unfazed, he led the convoy out of Tingshan at a leisurely pace.
Though Tingshan was nestled in the scenic outskirts, it wasn’t directly connected to the highway.
On the way to the ramp, Zhong Ziyan remained trapped between the two cars, never exceeding 50 km/h.
She lamented, “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of this car weeping at finally seeing daylight—only to be capped at 50 km/h!”
Wei Hanyun rested an elbow against the window, chuckling quietly. “You want to floor it.”
The highway entrance sign slowly appeared and disappeared on the right.
“Can I?” Zhong Ziyan asked earnestly.
“Wait a moment,” Wei Hanyun said, pulling out his phone. Half a minute later, the car’s Bluetooth speaker announced, “In 200 meters, enter S14. Watch for merging traffic on the left.”
“Just 200 more meters,” Wei Hanyun said, amused. “But don’t speed.”
Zhong Ziyan glanced at him to confirm his seatbelt was securely fastened—just in case they got caught on a speed camera.
The second they hit the highway, she yanked the steering wheel and swerved past Fang Nan’s car in a sharp overtake.
Fang Nan, diligently checking emails, only registered a blur of motion and the roar of an engine as something shot past him. He instinctively looked up.
The vehicle speeding ahead in a cloud of dust was unmistakably Wei Hanyun’s Aston Martin One-77.
Fang Nan: “…Follow them.”
The driver acknowledged and stepped on the gas to give chase.
However, the engine of an Aston Martin was not to be underestimated, and Zhong Ziyan drove as if she were competing for the title of racing champion on the slopes of Mount Akina. With a few serpentine turns, she swiftly disappeared into the sparse traffic, leaving the two trailing vehicles no chance to keep up.
Fang Nan: “…” He coldly issued a warning to the driver beside him. “Deducted bonus.”
With a few maneuvers, Zhong Ziyan effortlessly shook off the unprepared bodyguard cars, momentarily rediscovering the adrenaline rush of life-and-death pursuits from her past.
She glanced at the peaceful rearview mirror, keeping her speed just under the limit as she overtook one car after another.
Wei Hanyun sat calmly in the passenger seat, his expression unfazed, as if completely unbothered by the fact that her speed had already hit 120 km/h.
Zhong Ziyan even reassured him: “Don’t worry, nothing will happen.”
Even if the car exploded mid-drive, she could whisk Wei Hanyun out unscathed before the blast reached him.
Her days living on the edge weren’t for nothing!
“I’m not worried,” Wei Hanyun said, checking the navigation for her. “A sports car shouldn’t be driven at 50 km/h anyway.”
Touched, Zhong Ziyan declared, “Before I leave in eleven months, I’ll definitely get you a ‘World’s Best Client’ mug.”
Wei Hanyun chuckled. “Where did you hear about that?”
Zhong Ziyan: “Ta○bao recommendations.”
Wei Hanyun knowingly added, “The kind that makes ‘boyfriends and husbands cry with gratitude’?”
Zhong Ziyan gave him a thumbs-up: The boss was busy managing a thousand tasks, yet still knew all the trends.
After the thumbs-up, she stole a glance out the window and locked eyes with someone in the passenger seat of another car.
The person was holding up a phone, clearly recording.
In less than a second, the two cars went their separate ways.
—Zhong Ziyan didn’t even need to look while overtaking. In the infinite world, driving with her feet while her hands were busy shooting guns or casting skills was all too common.
Meanwhile, the people in the car she had just blown past lingered, filming her taillights for another two seconds before uploading the clip online.
【Amateur Supercar Enthusiast: Saw the Aston Martin One-77 (limited to 77 units worldwide) on the highway today. So cool my legs—no, my jaw—dropped. [Video]】
The comments were flooded with car enthusiasts marveling in admiration.
But soon, the inevitable critics arrived: That speed must be over 150 km/h, right? Rich people don’t get speeding tickets? Hah. @H City Traffic Police
……
Zhong Ziyan wasn’t sure where Wei Hanyun had in mind for shopping, but after half an hour of driving at the speed limit on the highway, she finally took an exit.
Compared to the red-carpet glamour of Yansha, this place was far more understated—white walls and gray tiles in a traditional Chinese style, exuding the ambiance of a teahouse.
By the time Zhong Ziyan parked, Fang Nan and the others still hadn’t caught up. Wei Hanyun led her inside first.
At the entrance, they were greeted by an elegant woman in a long qipao, her jet-black hair coiled at the back of her head, her features lightly adorned like a classical beauty stepping out of an ink painting.
“Mr. Wei, Miss Zhong, please come in.”
Zhong Ziyan glanced around the spacious hall, where the most eye-catching feature was a massive circular table—likely for meetings—except it was low, surrounded by square sitting cushions.
She imagined a group of suited businessmen sitting cross-legged around it, discussing slideshows.
…Not a great mental image.
“The pre-Qingming Longjing tea has already been sent to Yandu as you requested,” the qipao-clad woman said softly to Wei Hanyun. “Are you here today to sample the newly arrived Da Hong Pao spring tea?”
Wei Hanyun gestured to Zhong Ziyan beside him. “For her.”
The woman smiled, complimenting Zhong Ziyan. “Miss Zhong has excellent taste.”
Zhong Ziyan nodded expressionlessly: To be honest, I only heard the name “Da Hong Pao” for the first time last night.
As they spoke, the woman guided them past a garden-like courtyard gate into an antique-style exhibition hall.
Even after seeing something similar at Yansha, Zhong Ziyan still found the display—each item in a glass case under a spotlight—a bit excessive.
“This year’s season was the best,” the woman explained smoothly. “The temperature and humidity before and after the first spring harvest were nearly perfect—a rare, flawless climate for Da Hong Pao. In the past twelve years, this is the finest spring tea produced.”
Zhong Ziyan eyed the tiny sample box of tea in the display case, thinking it must be a trial size.
“This year’s yield was higher, totaling eight liang of finished tea. Our shop secured five liang, knowing Mr. Wei Sr. enjoys it and that you would visit, so we reserved it in advance.”
Zhong Ziyan looked up in surprise.
An egg weighs about one liang—this tea only yielded eight liang a year? Was it made of gold?
But remembering it was being bought with Wei Hanyun’s money for his father, she calmly nodded. “No need to taste. We’ll take it.”
“Four liang,” Wei Hanyun added.
The woman smiled, bowed slightly, and excused herself before gracefully departing.
Seizing the moment, Zhong Ziyan discreetly pulled out her phone and searched, “How much is one liang of Da Hong Pao?”
Search engine: Only four mother trees remain. Rarity dictates value. Authentic batches are priceless.
Zhong Ziyan: “…” She looked up at Wei Hanyun again. “Why not buy all five liang?”
“There’s a saying—four liang is jokingly called ‘half the kingdom.’ Any more would spoil the charm,” Wei Hanyun casually lectured, catching a glimpse of her phone screen before turning his head to suppress a smile.
Composing himself, he turned back and considerately reassured her, “It’s cheaper than diamonds.”
Zhong Ziyan put her phone away, suddenly feeling the weight of responsibility. “You’re right. Let’s hurry and buy more expensive things to take back.”
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Disclaimer: The mother trees of Da Hong Pao have ceased production. This is purely fictional.
