After the breakup, I was taken in by a group of trendy young women.

Lin Ye followed Huang Mao and the others to a certain place.

This place is hidden under an overpass at the junction of an urban village and a new district, and the bridge piers are covered with colorful graffiti.

Every time a heavy truck crossed the bridge, a muffled rumble of thunder would roll overhead.

The open space between the bridge piers had been enclosed by discarded tires and roadblocks to form an irregular circular track, with dozens of motorcycles parked haphazardly along the side of the track.

Each car was modified in a flamboyant way—with wheel hub lights, car audio systems, and hand-painted designs. One car even had a xenon headlight salvaged from a scrapped vehicle installed on the front, its white light so bright it was blinding.

The air was filled with the smell of burning rubber tires, the resonance of the subwoofer from a cheap stereo, and the aroma of cumin and chili powder wafting from a barbecue stall.

Dozens of energetic young men and women gathered in twos and threes. Some were twisting the accelerator to show off their skills, some were leaning back in their seats smoking, and some were holding up their phones to shoot short videos, shouting "Hey bro, watch this!"

A tall, thin man with fluorescent green mohawk was squatting by the track adjusting the brakes with a wrench, while a girl in fishnet stockings next to him held up her phone to provide light while sucking on a lollipop.

Lin Ye parked the will-o'-the-wisp at the entrance of the venue, the afterglow of the golden wheel rims casting a long arc of light on the ground.

He turned off the engine, put one foot on the ground, took off his sunglasses and hung them on the collar of his tight T-shirt, and glanced at the chaotic scene.

"What are you doing here?"

The blond-haired girl sped up beside him on her pink ghost bike, her honey-brown twin ponytails puffed up into two fluffy balls by the night wind.

She braced herself on one foot, her hands still gripping the handlebars. Her deep brown pupils shone brightly in the dim light under the bridge pier, and the arrogant curve of her lips seemed to devour the entire area.

"Bro! With such a great will-o'-the-wisp, it would be a shame not to show it off!"

The tattooed man sped up behind, twisting the accelerator, while the black, ghostly car's front speaker blared a deafeningly loud, cheesy pop song.

She parked the car, the koi on her tattoo arm gleaming faintly blue under the neon lights, and her tongue stud flashed between her lips.

"Exactly! We've always watched others show off here, but today it's finally our turn!"

Flower Legs rode her wine-red Ghost Fire bike, turning in from the side. The rose tattoo on her leg looked so red under the glow of the wheels that it seemed to be actually blooming.

She took her phone off the handlebar mount, took pictures of the area, and concluded with extreme satisfaction, "It's a sure thing, I have material for my WeChat Moments tonight."

Green Hair and Pink Hair simultaneously twisted the accelerator and rushed into the field from the left and right, their fluorescent green and peach pink wheel lights drawing two parallel arcs in the shadows under the bridge pier.

The dyed earrings on their two heads rubbed together in a mess, and at the same time they shouted something that silenced the entire room for half a second: "Big Brother has arrived! Everyone get out of the way!"

Qi Liuhai quietly parked the will-o'-the-wisp at the edge of the area, while Wangcai poked its paw out of the hemispherical window of its space capsule cat carrier and patted the plastic wall.

Shen Qing and Shen Na stopped side by side behind Lin Ye. The two sisters took off their helmets at the same time, and their black hair fluttered in the night wind.

Dozens of eyes turned to look at it at once.

Their gazes first fell on the nine will-o'-the-wisps lined up in a row—pink, black, wine red, fluorescent green, peach pink, white, and dark gray. Each one was top-of-the-line, the best they had ever seen in their lives.

Then my gaze shifted from the will-o'-the-wisp to Lin Ye—a tight black T-shirt, tight black pants, loafers, a spiky hairstyle styled with hair gel, a sharply defined jawline, and a relaxed yet confident posture as he leaned against the dark gray will-o'-the-wisp.

There were also eight colorful girls surrounding them.

The venue was silent for about two seconds.

Then everyone gathered around at the same time.

The tall, thin man with fluorescent green rooster-comb haircut threw the wrench on the ground and ran over in a few quick steps.

He squatted in front of the dark gray will-o'-the-wisps in the woods, staring at the golden wheel hub light strip for a long time, then tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Hey bro, your car—are those wheels custom-made? You can't find this size of gold LED strip on the market."

A girl in fishnet stockings peeked out from behind him, took a lollipop out of her mouth, and exclaimed with wide eyes, "This seat cushion is genuine perforated leather! I saw the same one online last time, one of these cushions costs as much as my Ghost Motorcycle!"

The crowd grew larger and larger.

A cacophony of voices mingled together—how much did this bike cost? Where did you buy it? Can I take a picture? What brand is this sound system with such powerful bass? Can the wheel hub lights change color? Is that dark gold ring on the handlebars plated or solid?

Standing next to her black ghost car with her tattooed arm crossed over her chest, she said in an extremely blissful tone, "Don't ask, you can't buy them. My brother specially ordered these."

Hua Tui sat casually on the car seat with his legs crossed, taking pictures of the crowd that had gathered around him with his phone.

"Those who want to take pictures, hurry up and take them. We're going to cause a ruckus in the streets later. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Just then, an exceptionally loud engine roar came from the entrance of the venue.

It wasn't the buzzing of a motor like a ghost fire engine; it was the roar of a modified gasoline engine—the exhaust pipe had been clearly cut short, and the exhaust sound was explosive, each sound like someone setting off firecrackers.

The crowd automatically parted to both sides, making way.

A modified Ghostfire, painted in fluorescent purple, rushed in from the entrance. Its headlights had been changed to a strobe mode, and the white light was so bright that it was hard to open one's eyes.

The car was covered with various stickers—flames, skulls, silhouettes of naked women, and a line of cursive text spray-painted: "Brother Hao goes to war, leaving no grass alive."

Li Hao straddled the car seat.

He was wearing a tight black T-shirt with a low neckline, revealing a faded lightning bolt tattoo on his collarbone.

Her loafers were shiny, and her tight pants stretched her slender legs to look like chopsticks.

Her hair was styled with hairspray into an even more exaggerated hedgehog shape than last time, but her hairline had receded a little further, and her forehead reflected the light in the afterglow of the car headlights.

The tight-fitting clothes couldn't hide her belly, and the protruding curve created a noticeable crease at the hem of the T-shirt.

A chubby girl was sitting in the back seat.

She has a round face, a double chin, and a silver lip piercing.

She had dyed her hair a faded purple color, and the black stubble growing from the roots was already two or three centimeters long.

Wearing a leopard-print tight mini skirt, the hem of which rolled up to her upper thighs on the back of the ghost fire, revealing a section of her calves covered in black stockings.

She was wearing a pair of strappy sandals with excessively high heels, the straps leaving two red marks on her ankles.

She had one arm around Li Hao's waist, and the other hand held a cup of milk tea, the straw covered in teeth marks.

Li Hao parked his car directly opposite Lin Ye, put one foot on the ground, twisted the accelerator, and the exhaust roared.

He took off his sunglasses and hung them on his collar. His gaze first swept over the nine ghost cars lined up in a row, then landed on Lin Ye, and the corners of his mouth turned down.

"Hey, blondie, there's a will-o'-the-wisp?"

The blond-haired man tossed his honey-brown twin tails behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

The hem of her Lolita dress fluttered slightly in the night breeze. She tilted her head and looked down at Li Hao from the corner of her eye.

His deep brown eyes were filled with condescending disdain.

"What, wanna have a competition? Dare you?"

Li Hao paused for a moment, then smiled.

It wasn't the angry laughter that followed provocation, but the kind of laughter that comes from finding something funny.

"You want to compete with me? Do you know how many people I've beaten in this arena? Last time, someone riding a modified Lamborghini beat me, and he lost so badly he had to pawn his bike—"

"Stop talking nonsense."

The blond-haired man interrupted him, his chin held high.

"Just tell me if you dare or not. If you don't dare, then get lost and stop blocking the way."

The chubby girl leaned out from behind Li Hao's seat, her lip piercing flashing briefly in the corner of the car headlights.

She swallowed her milk tea, looked the blond guy up and down, and said in an extremely leisurely tone, as if she were picking out pork at a market, "Li Hao, is this the blond guy you mentioned last time? He doesn't look like much. His skirt is all wrinkled, and his hair is black at the roots without any dyeing—"

"Who the hell are you talking about?"

The tattooed man stepped forward and stood next to the blond-haired man.

The chubby girl flinched at her shout, nearly spilling her milk tea on her leopard-print skirt, but she still stubbornly insisted, "I'm telling the truth—these cars look new, but who knows if they're rented—"

Hua Tui took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked a non-existent ash into the air.

"Rented? Let me see a gold-rimmed one."

The chubby girl opened her mouth, looked at the pink will-o'-the-wisp, then at the black will-o'-the-wisp, and then at the dark gold metal ring on the dark gray will-o'-the-wisp.

Adam's apple—no, his throat moved slightly, and he swallowed the words that were about to come out.

The green-haired and pink-haired people each added a sentence from behind.

The green-haired guy said, "You ride a modified, beat-up bike and then criticize others," while the pink-haired guy said, "Leopard print with purple hair is just amazing."

Qi Liuhai stood at the edge of the field, holding Wangcai in his arms. He blinked his eyes under his bangs and spoke up for once, his voice small but every word incredibly clear.

"Her lip piercing is crooked."

Wangcai meowed once in the cat carrier, probably in agreement.

The chubby girl subconsciously reached out and touched her lip piercing; it was indeed crooked, with the left side being a millimeter lower than the right.

Her face turned a deep purplish-red.

Li Hao twisted the handlebars, and the rear wheel spun twice in place, making a sharp friction sound.

"Fine! Let's race! Do you think I'd lose to you? This track, ten laps, whoever reaches the finish line first wins. The loser—leaves the car."

He deliberately lowered his voice when he said "leave the car behind," trying to create a cold and ruthless aura.

But his leggings rode up a bit when he twisted the accelerator, revealing a section of unshaven leg hair above his ankles.