Ji Zhaoxi kept her head down in silence, and Xiao Siyan walked off with the others.
“This… Ye, maybe you should cheer her up a bit.”
The stands, lively just moments ago, suddenly fell quiet.
Zhou Chiye had been furious, but seeing Ji Zhaoxi with her head lowered, the anger faded. She had better have taken his words to heart—what if she got heatstroke?
But as time passed, he grew uneasy. Ji Zhaoxi hadn’t said a single word.
Zhou Chiye: …
He stared silently at the crown of her head, then tapped on his phone. He wanted to see her eyes light up.
Ji Zhaoxi didn’t react. Her hair hid her face, and he couldn’t tell if she was crying.
“I’ve transferred the fee for scolding you,” Zhou Chiye said stiffly.
He held his phone screen in front of Ji Zhaoxi’s face.
Come on, light up those eyes!
…
But her eyes didn’t light up. She still didn’t look up, and her shoulders were trembling slightly.
Zhou Chiye’s mind went blank for a second. How do you handle this? He shouldn’t have let Xiao Siyan leave.
Wen tsked in frustration, running his hand through his hair irritably, then quickly tapped on the screen again and thrust it toward her.
Ji Zhaoxi’s shoulders shook even harder.
Zhou Chiye was dumbfounded. He pressed his lips together and frowned at her, puzzled.
How could she be so fragile? He had just scolded her a little. Everyone who followed him got chewed out at some point.
Zhou Chiye didn’t want such a delicate follower anymore…
He reached out and gave her a stiff pat on the shoulder. “Hey, what I said—I didn’t mean anything bad by it…”
But when his hand touched her back, he frowned again. No muscle at all—she definitely didn’t work out.
Suddenly, Ji Zhaoxi grabbed his phone. Zhou Chiye watched her in silence. If smashing it would make her feel better, fine.
“Ye, why did you give me so much money?” Ji Zhaoxi looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.
The fee for being scolded was insanely high. He had only yelled at her a few times, yet he’d given her two hundred thousand.
Back when others insulted her, she only got two bucks per insult.
The staggering difference moved her to tears.
Zhou Chiye was stunned. So that was it—those bright eyes finally appeared.
He dropped his gaze, leaning against the railing without another word. Ji Zhaoxi, overjoyed, started chattering nonstop beside him.
Zhou Chiye’s mind was stuck on that earlier image—her eyes glistening, filled with a happiness she couldn’t contain. Maybe from crying, but the tip of her nose was a little red…
He remembered her saying she would use that same look on others. Annoyance surged.
“Don’t ever look at anyone else like that again.”
Ji Zhaoxi blinked, baffled. “Like what, Ye? What look?”
Furrowing his brows in discontent, he said, “That look you just had.”
She was silent for a moment. “Ye, I wasn’t giving anyone a look. I was just crying.”
Her eyes were blurry with tears—she couldn’t see a thing.
“Then don’t cry in front of anyone else,” Zhou Chiye said coldly. “Because I’m also covering your tears from now on.”
Ji Zhaoxi felt like she might faint from sheer bliss.
He covers scolding. He covers tutoring. Now he covers tears.
She had really become a mermaid—her tears were leading her straight to a fortune.
This was talent. No comparison to her brother, who would never reach this point.
Filled with sudden motivation, she looked eagerly at the track cars. “Ye, I want to play too.”
With no reply, Zhou Chiye simply put a helmet on her and strode toward the track.
Ji Zhaoxi scrambled to follow.
When she headed for the passenger seat, he pushed her straight into the driver’s seat.
Ji Zhaoxi: ?
She had meant experiencing it from the side.
“Ye…”
“It’s fine. Just messing around,” he said calmly.
Ji Zhaoxi: …
“I can’t drive,” she murmured.
“Go ahead,” he replied, equally calm.
She stared at him, bewildered. How little did he value his own life?
He strapped her into the seat, bending down to tug at the webbing securely, checking every latch with care.
“Hold it here,” he said, guiding her hands to the steering wheel.
Panic surged. “Ye, I really can’t. What if you get hurt?”
“Worry about yourself instead,” Zhou Chiye cut in flatly. “I’m insured.”
If she really took interest in racing, he would buy her insurance too.
He guided her fingers along the metallic shift paddles.
“When the RPM climbs, the car will shake. Don’t be scared.”
Ji Zhaoxi settled into focus as he started the ignition. The rumbling exploded, the vehicle shuddering to life.
Her eyes widened in fascination.
He smirked at her excitement—a complete shift from her earlier dread.
The tires gave a low screech against the track as Zhou Chiye kept his hands in place.
“Steady the direction.”
As his grip tightened, he shifted abruptly, sending the car into a violent start. The push of G-force slammed her back into the seat.
She tensed up, eyes fixed on the road ahead. He didn’t take his eyes off her, seeing how her arms gripped the wheel flinchingly.
Wind and engine noise filled her ears—a thrill she hadn’t felt before.
Watching her, Zhou Chiye seemed a little surprised. She was more suited to driving than expected.
Now and then, he angled her turns: “Hold the revs; accelerate only after the corner.”
A few hairpins in, she was less hesitant. Right at that tight turn, she overdid a bit—fancying to feel the G like she saw Zhou Chiye could manage.
Instead, the torque outmatched. Tires screamed, the rear kicking sideways in an ugly, volatile arc that lurched the whole chassis perilously.
Horror drained all warmth from her face. High thoughts raced through her when she foresaw worst: how she should decide inheritance, guilt that came with bringing both of them to certain doom…
She had failed him.
Zhou Chiye gave a steady look, his hand sliding over hers, countersteering sharply. His other clapped into neutral gear.
The car gave one violent shimmy, wailing to a slow halt. The exhaust sputtered into silence as it settled at the edge of the run-off zone.
