The Heiress's Driver Rules the Underworld

Chapter 2: The Younger Heiress Refuses to Get In

At 10:20 p.m., Wangting Mountain blazed with light.

The winding mountain road had not yet opened to the public. Someone had rented it for a private car meet. Dozens of modified cars crowded the foot of the mountain, music thundered from the speakers, and the air reeked of gasoline and scorched rubber.

When Shen Kaiyue drove the Luan Group’s black executive van into the lot, the crowd fell silent for two seconds.

Surrounded by sports cars covered in custom decals, the square black van looked like a man in a business suit who had wandered into an outdoor nightclub.

Someone whistled.

“Who brought the school pickup van?”

Shen lowered his window. “Where is Luan Xiaoman?”

“Looking for Sister Man?” A young man with dyed yellow hair pointed uphill. “Finish line. Go catch her if you can.”

As he spoke, two beams of light appeared on the mountain road.

A silver-gray sports car burst around the final bend. Its engine drowned out the music and its tires screamed over the asphalt. The car swung into the parking area and stopped hard only a few meters from the crowd.

The driver’s door opened. The young woman from the photograph climbed out and removed her helmet.

She was even more striking in person.

Not because of her face. Because the first thing she did after leaving the car was walk to a blue sports car and set her helmet on its hood.

“Fang, does squeezing someone off the racing line count as a win now?”

The man beside the blue car was in his late twenties and wore an expensive racing suit. His smile was casual.

“No one gives you the road on a racetrack.”

“Then we run it again.”

“Fine.” He glanced at the silver-gray car behind her. “But let’s raise the stakes. You lose, you leave the car.”

“And if you lose?”

“The custom shop in the South District is yours.”

The crowd erupted.

Luan Xiaoman reached for her helmet, but another hand pressed it down first.

She looked up at a stranger.

His white shirtsleeves were rolled to the forearms, and an executive van’s key hung from one hand. Nothing about him belonged here.

“Who are you?”

“A driver.”

“Whose?”

“Your sister’s, as of today.”

Luan Xiaoman stared at him for two seconds, then turned and walked away.

“I’m not going back.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

She stopped.

Muffled laughter rippled through the crowd.

Luan Xiaoman turned slowly. “Didn’t my sister tell you the family goes through drivers so quickly because they talk too much?”

“She did.” Shen met her eyes. “That’s why I’ll only say it once. Get in the car.”

She laughed in disbelief.

“New guy, you probably learned my name five minutes ago.”

“Luan Xiaoman, twenty-three. Three unresolved speeding tickets. You promised to be home by ten. You are now twenty-two minutes late.”

“She told you all of that?”

“There’s a file in the van.”

Luan Xiaoman peered at the black vehicle as if she were already deciding how to make her sister fire this driver.

Fang walked over.

“Manman, who is this?”

“One of my family’s employees.”

“An employee decides what time his boss goes home?”

Shen ignored him. He reached out and plucked the silver-gray car’s key from between Luan Xiaoman’s fingers.

The movement was not fast.

She somehow failed to avoid it anyway.

By the time she reacted, the key had already spun once around Shen’s finger.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Checking the car.”

He crouched beside the front right wheel, rubbed a fingertip along the inner rim, and inspected the tire.

“The pressure is low. Did it push wide at the third turn?”

Something shifted in Luan Xiaoman’s expression.

“How do you know?”

“Uneven wear on the shoulder.”

“It can still run.”

“Of course it can.” Shen stood. “Right up until it carries you off the mountain.”

He opened the front trunk, found a portable air compressor, and attached it to the valve. It ran for less than two minutes before both front tires showed equal pressure. Shen checked the valve core and screwed the cap back on.

“Did you hit the curb?”

Luan Xiaoman thought about it. “Brushed one at the first turn.”

“Then the car isn’t the problem. You rushed it.”

“Don’t try to scare me.”

“I don’t scare people. I charge overtime.”

Someone nearby laughed aloud.

Luan Xiaoman glared in that direction, and the culprit immediately lowered his head to study his phone.

Fang folded his arms. “If you’re afraid to race, admit defeat. Don’t drag some driver over here to blame the car.”

“Who’s afraid?” Luan Xiaoman reached for the key.

Shen raised his hand.

She was not short, but she still had to step half a pace closer. Suddenly, very little space remained between them. There was no perfume on her, only the smell of leather and a faint trace of gasoline.

Shen looked down at her. “Do you really want that custom shop?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Your sister told me to bring you home. She didn’t say I couldn’t win you something along the way.”

Luan Xiaoman narrowed her eyes. “You know how to race mountains?”

“I know how to drive.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

“Not for you.”

She stared at him, then abruptly lowered her hand.

“Fine. You drive.”

The crowd exploded.

The smile disappeared from Fang’s face. “Manman, you’re letting a driver race for you?”

“We bet a car against a shop. We never said who had to hold the wheel.” Luan Xiaoman opened the passenger door. “What’s wrong? Afraid?”

“I’m afraid he’ll total your car.”

Shen settled into the driver’s seat, adjusted it, fastened his belt, then pulled out the passenger belt and offered it to Luan Xiaoman.

“Put it on.”

“Are all drivers this annoying?”

“The ones who live a long time are.”

She clicked the belt into place and studied him from the side.

“Let’s make one thing clear. If you lose, don’t expect me to beg my sister to keep you.”

“What if I win?”

“I’ll go home with you.”

“You already have to do that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Shen shifted into first gear.

“Ten minutes of silence on the way back.”

Luan Xiaoman was speechless.

The two cars lined up at the start.

The moment the flag fell, the blue sports car launched forward.

The silver-gray car fell half a length behind.

Luan Xiaoman grabbed the door pull. “You already lost the start!”

“Who promised to be quiet?”

“That was for the drive home!”

“Oh.”

Shen said nothing else.

At the first corner, the blue car cut inside with its brakes screaming. Shen did not fight for the line. He lifted off the accelerator early and surrendered nearly two car lengths.

Luan Xiaoman frowned. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

The blue car had entered too deep while defending the inside. Its rear slid outward.

Shen touched the brake and corrected the wheel only once. The silver-gray car swept around the outside. By the exit, its nose was already level with the blue car’s rear wheel.

He did not pass at the second turn either.

Before the third, Fang deliberately moved his car to the center of the road.

“He’s blocking you,” Luan Xiaoman said.

“I can see that.”

“There’s no room on the left.”

“There is on the right.”

“That’s a drainage ditch!”

Shen downshifted. The engine’s pitch rose sharply.

The silver-gray car cut in with its right-side wheels skimming the edge of the drainage channel. The body tilted just enough that Luan Xiaoman instinctively leaned toward Shen.

The driver of the blue car had not expected him to take the gap. He panicked and jerked left.

That was enough.

The road opened.

The silver-gray sports car shot through on the inside.

There was no collision and no theatrical drift. Shen simply braked half a second later and stepped on the accelerator half a second earlier.

The blue car fell behind.

Only when the finish-line lights appeared did Luan Xiaoman realize that her hand was still gripping Shen’s arm.

She released it at once.

“Your arm is pretty hard.”

“The seat belt is harder. You didn’t grab that.”

“Shut up.”

The silver-gray car crossed the finish line.

The spectators looked at the timing screen, then at the car that had just stopped. For a moment, not one of them spoke.

Luan Xiaoman climbed out and set her helmet on the roof.

“The key.”

She held out a hand toward Fang.

His face was dark when he emerged from the blue car. “You weren’t the driver. This race doesn’t count.”

“Why didn’t you say that before we started?”

“I made the bet with you, not some chauffeur.”

“Just admit you can’t stand losing.”

Several people behind Fang started forward.

Shen got out at an unhurried pace and closed the car door carefully.

“I’m in a hurry,” he said. “Deliver the shop’s transfer papers to the Luan Group tomorrow. Now move.”

Fang stared at him. “Do you really think you’re somebody?”

He waved a hand. The nearest man threw a punch.

Shen did not retreat.

He stepped half a pace to the side, caught the man’s wrist with his right hand, and forced it down in the direction of the charge. The man’s knee slammed into the asphalt. Before he could finish crying out, Shen released him and kicked the next attacker backward into a car door.

A third man rushed up from behind with a telescopic baton.

Luan Xiaoman had only just shouted, “Watch out!” when Shen reached up without looking, caught the shaft, and pulled it forward.

The attacker stumbled toward him.

Shen’s elbow stopped in front of the man’s Adam’s apple.

Less than an inch away.

All color drained from the man’s face.

“Do you still want to fight?” Shen asked.

No one moved.

He collapsed the baton and laid it on the silver-gray car’s hood.

Fang’s lips moved, but in the end, he did not call anyone else forward.

Luan Xiaoman looked at the man kneeling on the ground, then at Shen. Her eyes were no longer quite the same as before.

“Were you really a driver?”

“I’ve only been employed for half a day.”

“I mean before this.”

“The pay wasn’t as steady.”

Shen tossed her the executive van’s key and headed for the driver’s seat of the sports car.

“What are you doing?”

“The right front wheel needs an inspection. You drive the van.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then sit in the passenger seat.”

Luan Xiaoman remained where she was, apparently giving serious thought to fighting him herself.

In the end, she got into the passenger seat.

She stayed quiet for exactly ten minutes after they started down the mountain.

The eleventh minute arrived, and she turned toward him.

“Shen Kaiyue.”

“Mm?”

“How much does my sister pay you?”

“Trade secret.”

“I’ll double it. From now on, you work for me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t reimburse parking.”

Luan Xiaoman stared at him, then suddenly laughed.

“There’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?”

“Possibly. I didn’t have time to get it checked overseas.”

She was about to ask what he had done overseas when the phone rang.

Luan Zhaowan’s voice came through the car speakers.

“Did you find her?”

“I did,” Shen said.

“Did she cause trouble?”

“Sis!” Luan Xiaoman immediately sat up. “Why don’t you ask whether he bullied me?”

There was a half-second pause.

“Did he?”

Luan Xiaoman glanced at Shen.

“He took my car and yelled at me.”

“Then he picked up the right person.”

“Whose sister are you?”

“Come to the family residence tonight,” Luan Zhaowan said, ignoring the question. “Second Uncle and people from the Luo family are here. Shen Kaiyue, bring her straight over.”

“Does that count as overtime?”

The other end of the call went quiet again.

“Yes.”

Shen was satisfied. “Twenty minutes.”

The call ended.

Luan Xiaoman folded her arms. “Do you know why the Luo family is there tonight?”

“No.”

“Luo Qisheng wants to marry my sister.”

“Oh.”

“That’s your entire reaction?”

“What else should it be?”

She leaned back and drew out her words deliberately. “He has a terrible temper, and he brought men from a South District martial arts school. The people you hit tonight aren’t anywhere near their level.”

Shen kept his eyes on the road and tapped the steering wheel twice.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing.” A wicked smile appeared on Luan Xiaoman’s face. “I just realized going home might be interesting tonight.”