After the divorce, he went on a motorcycle trip, and his ex-wife and daughter were filled with regre

Jiang Ye didn't give him a chance to retaliate at all, directly gripping the clutch and slamming down the gear lever.

"boom--!!!"

A blue flame shot out from the Kawasaki H2R's exhaust pipe, and a deafening roar erupted instantly, the massive sound wave making the gas station windows vibrate. Wang Shao and the group of internet celebrity girls were so frightened by the sudden, terrifying sound that they trembled and instinctively covered their ears, backing away.

Jiang Ye abruptly released the clutch, and the motorcycle's rear wheel screeched wildly on the ground, leaving a long black tire track. Accompanied by the pungent smell of burning rubber, the entire motorcycle launched like a cannonball and sped straight toward the winding mountain road ahead.

"Damn it! How dare he provoke me! Get in the car! Today I'm going to force him off a cliff!" Wang Shao angrily opened the car door and climbed into the Ferrari.

Li Shao quickly got into the Porsche with the girl. The two million-dollar supercars roared angrily, their tires spinning wildly on the ground, chasing closely behind Jiang Ye's taillights as they sped up the mountain road.

This chase, where the odds were heavily against each other, had officially begun.

The mountain road winds its way through the landscape, with steep mountain walls on one side and bottomless cliffs on the other. This kind of road condition is a hellish test of driving skills.

Sitting in the Ferrari, Wang Shao slammed his foot on the accelerator, staring at the black lightning bolt ahead, and cursed through gritted teeth, "A piece of junk dares to challenge my V8 engine? Watch how I annihilate you on the straightaway!"

However, reality soon gave him a resounding slap in the face.

The Kawasaki H2R's acceleration performance is simply unmatched by these civilian supercars. On a straight stretch of just a few hundred meters, Jiang Ye twisted the accelerator to the floor, instantly pushing the speed past 200 km/h. The Ferrari and Porsche, even at their absolute best, could only barely keep up and leave in the dust.

"There's a series of hairpin bends ahead! Motorcycles have to slow down when going around bends. I'm going to overtake him on the bend, I'm going to kill him!" Wang Shao looked at the sharp bend ahead, a sinister glint in his eyes.

He slammed on the brakes, the Ferrari's carbon ceramic brake discs emitted a sharp screeching sound, and the car lurched toward the bend with tremendous inertia.

Just when he thought Jiang Ye had to slow down, a scene that made him question his life unfolded.

Jiang Ye didn't apply the brakes at all!

At the moment of entering the corner, Jiang Ye's body leaned sharply inward, almost touching the fuel tank. The motorcycle cut into the corner at an incredible angle, and the titanium alloy sliders on Jiang Ye's knees scraped fiercely against the rough asphalt, sending up a long string of dazzling sparks!

Perfect wiring! Flying close to the ground!

Jiang Ye was like an emotionless driving machine, bringing the unity of man and machine to its peak. Utilizing the motorcycle's light weight and terrifying grip, he drew a perfect arc in the bend, his speed not only not slowing down, but also carrying a ferocious momentum that tore through the air, instantly cutting through the apex of the bend.

"Holy crap! Is this even human?!" Young Master Wang's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and he was so scared that he broke out in a cold sweat.

To catch up with Jiang Ye, Wang Shao suddenly accelerated through the bend. The Ferrari's rear wheels instantly lost traction, the car spun wildly, and it veered off course, sliding directly towards the outer guardrail!

"Ah—help!" The internet celebrity-looking girl in the passenger seat was terrified and let out a pig-like scream.

Wang Shao frantically swerved the steering wheel, causing the Ferrari to twitch wildly on the road, its tires emitting a mournful scream, finally coming to a stop less than ten centimeters from the guardrail. Wang Shao slumped in the driver's seat, panting heavily, his legs trembling like leaves, and even feeling a warm dampness in his crotch.

He was so scared he peed his pants.

Li Shao, who was following behind, fared even worse. His Porsche 911 understeered while cornering and crashed head-on into the inner mountainside. The front bumper shattered, the hood was torn up, and the car was completely totaled.

Jiang Ye coldly glanced at the two battered sports cars in the rearview mirror, a haughty sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

"With such meager skills, you dare to come out and embarrass yourself?"

Without even turning his head, he twisted the throttle again. The Kawasaki H2R let out a high-pitched roar, turning into a black shooting star and disappearing completely at the end of the winding mountain road, leaving only a trail of violent exhaust fumes, making those rich kids completely question their existence in the wind.

This is incredibly satisfying!

Jiang Ye felt a great deal of relief finally released from the pent-up frustration in his chest. He didn't need anyone's approval, nor did he need any woman's company; all he wanted was the absolute power to trample everything underfoot!

I cycled for two days and two nights straight.

Jiang Ye traversed countless mountains and rivers, finally stopping in a desolate Gobi Desert.

The scenery here is completely different from that of a bustling city. There are no skyscrapers, no traffic jams, only endless yellow sand, weathered gravel, and howling winds.

It was dusk.

A huge, blood-red sun was slowly sinking below the horizon. The evening glow, like burning flames, dyed the entire Gobi Desert a magnificent dark red. The world was eerily quiet, with only the rustling of the wind blowing through the sand and stones.

Jiang Ye parked his motorcycle on the side of the road, removed the key, and took off his helmet.

He walked to a huge weathered rock, sat down, and lit a cigarette. The pale blue smoke dissipated quickly in the wind.

Gazing at the magnificent yet desolate sunset before him, Jiang Ye was suddenly overwhelmed by a profound sense of loneliness. This loneliness was not due to the loss of anyone, but rather the emptiness of standing between heaven and earth, feeling as insignificant as an ant, with nowhere to place his soul.

He suddenly felt a strong urge to record his feelings at this moment.

He took out his phone, instinctively wanting to open his WeChat Moments. But looking at the list of hypocritical business partners, casual acquaintances who liked his posts, and those who had hurt him in the past, he felt a surge of nausea. He didn't want to expose his soul to this garbage.

He opened his phone's app store and randomly typed "niche social networking" into the search bar.

The page refreshed, and a bunch of flashy apps popped up. Jiang Ye impatiently scrolled down, when suddenly, an app with a very clean icon caught his attention.

The software is called "SKY".

There are no messy promotional slogans, no suggestive covers featuring beautiful women; the introduction page simply states: "Here, find solace for your unspoken soul."

Jiang Ye raised an eyebrow and clicked download.

The software installs very quickly. Once opened, the interface is a pure black and white color scheme, without any unnecessary pop-ups or errors, making it surprisingly clean.

Jiang Ye didn't browse other people's posts; he directly clicked the post button.

He raised his phone, pointing it at the Kawasaki H2R parked not far away. The black carbon fiber body reflected a cold metallic sheen in the blood-red sunset, against the backdrop of the boundless, desolate Gobi Desert. This photo, without any filters, is full of strong visual impact and a profound sense of story.

Jiang Ye looked at the photo on the screen and typed a line of text rapidly on the keyboard.

"To hell with love, the soul is on the road."

There are no locations, no labels, and even the punctuation marks exude a cold, unapproachable aura.

Click to send.

After doing all this, Jiang Ye locked his phone screen and casually stuffed it into his leather jacket pocket. He stood up, flicked the cigarette butt into the sandstorm, and strode towards his motorcycle.

Put on the helmet, straddle the seat, and turn the key.

"boom--"

The engine roared once more. Facing the last rays of the setting sun, Jiang Ye rode his motorcycle into the vast darkness, continuing his aimless wandering.

He had no idea that in the short few minutes after he turned off his phone, that photo, full of tension and a sense of story, began to quietly ferment like a depth charge on SKY, a niche app frequented by artsy types and lonely individuals, triggering an unprecedented resonance of the soul.

. . .