Spring Night Kiss.

Song Qingjia slept until 2 p.m.

When I woke up, there were three missed calls on my phone screen, all from Cheng Yizhen.

The two haven't been in contact for more than two months since their last unpleasant encounter.

She stared at the three records for two seconds, then flipped her phone face down on the bedside table, pretending she hadn't seen them.

My head is a little sore and my throat is also uncomfortable. I don't know if it's from internal heat or a cold.

She threw back the covers and got out of bed, pouring herself a glass of hot water. The hot water eased the discomfort in her throat considerably.

In the Canadian Grand Prix, predictions were almost unanimous, both domestically and internationally: Xu Zhouye would pole to win, securing his first Grand Prix victory of the season.

Song Qingjia naturally thought so too.

His starting technique is excellent, and he has only fainted at the start a handful of times in his career. Therefore, it is highly likely that he will maintain his first position and take the lead.

Going forward, as long as his strategy remains sound and no unforeseen events occur, he will reach the top of the podium.

But sometimes luck is the key factor in determining the outcome of a match, and an unexpected event really did occur.

In the footage transmitted from the scene, Xu Zhouye's race car suddenly slowed down without warning.

There was no white smoke, no collision, nothing happened.

But it's slow.

The car's speed dropped sharply from over 300 to just over 100, and one car after another passed by him.

His voice came through the TR, deep and calm, with a suppressed fire: "I've lost my motivation."

Then came the engineer's voice, intermittent, which Song Qingjia couldn't make out. She only saw his race car slowly leave the lanes and stop on the grass beside the track.

Xu Zhouye removed the steering wheel and headrest, and struggled to get out of the cockpit. He stood by the race car for a while until Matthew came to help him leave.

The commentator's voice came through the television, filled with regret: "Xu Zhouye has withdrawn from the race due to a power unit malfunction. He should have been the champion this weekend."

Song Qingjia stared at the screen, not moving for a long time.

The atmosphere within the team was tense; the team's withdrawal from the race due to a malfunction and the loss of the championship was an outcome that no one could accept.

Team leader Lucas immediately transported the faulty power unit back to his country that evening to analyze the specific cause of the failure and prevent further problems.

But in any case, this weekend was completely ruined for Xu Zhouye.

Song Qingjia lay in bed, turning over and over as he read the post-match interviews several times.

In front of the backdrop, Xu Zhouye had already taken off his racing suit, wearing only a T-shirt with the team logo printed on it, and his brows were full of fatigue.

The reporter asked him, "It's a real shame. You had a huge advantage today, so can you tell us what went wrong with the race car?"

Xu Zhouye pursed his lips: "It's a problem with the power unit."

Could you elaborate?

"We need to investigate further; there's nothing to say right now."

The reporter also expressed regret for him, offering a few words of comfort before asking, "Originally, after this game, your win count would have reached 30. What were your thoughts when this unexpected event occurred?"

"I don't have any particular thoughts, that's just how it is." He paused, "It's just a bit of a pity."

"What a pity we lost our first title of the season?"

"No, it's a pity I couldn't keep my promise to my girlfriend."

After saying that, he nodded to the reporter and strode away.

I didn't keep my promise to my girlfriend.

Song Qingjia put down her phone, lay back on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

Song Ergou jumped onto the bed and lay on her stomach, pressing down on her so much that she could hardly breathe, but she didn't push him away. His fingers slowly stroked the cat's back, one stroke at a time.

His face in the interview area kept replaying in my mind, and the words he said kept replaying in my mind.

He scratched his hair in frustration.

We agreed it was just for fun, so why am I getting more and more concerned?

Seeing his dejected look stirred up a strange emotion within me.

Its name is Heartache.

This is wrong; she was determined to be a heartless woman.

"Ahhhhh..." She couldn't help but scream randomly to vent her frustration.

Song Ergou was startled and quickly got off her, running out of the room in a few steps.

Song Qingjia: "..."

-

Song Qingjia left work early at 5 p.m. on Tuesday.

A day passed, and the sore throat showed no signs of improvement; in fact, it became so painful that even drinking water hurt. My head was spinning, my body felt weak, and my forehead was burning hot.

Song Qingjia was now certain that it wasn't a case of internal heat, but rather a cold.

She was too scared to drive herself in that situation, so she took a taxi home.

As I walked into the elevator lobby, my phone rang again; it was Cheng Yizhen.

Song Qingjia pursed her lips and answered, "Feed?"

"Qingjia," Cheng Yizhen said, "you finally answered the phone. Have you been very busy with work lately?"

Song Qingjia gave a soft "hmm".

"No matter how busy you are with work, you must take care of your health. If you don't take care of yourself when you're young, it will be too late to regret it when you're old."

Song Qingjia listened expressionlessly without responding.

"I'll find you a housekeeper. She can cook and take care of you."

"No need, I'm not that precious."

Cheng Yizhen pinched the bridge of her nose. She had never quite understood why her daughter was so hostile towards her.

Although she did neglect her in her early years due to work, she tried her best to make up for it later. Especially after Song Mingqian passed away, she shifted her focus from work back to her family.

She brought her daughter to live with her and took care of her personally, but she...

Cheng Yizhen sighed: "Qingjia, Mom is just worried about you, and your father certainly doesn't want this either—"

"Get to the point," Song Qingjia interrupted her.

She didn't want to hear a single word about Song Mingqian from Cheng Yizhen.

On the other end of the phone, Cheng Yizhen was silent for a moment.

She knew that what she was about to say would make Song Qingjia uncomfortable, but she still had to say it.

"Are you and Xu Zhouye... together?"

"How did you know? Did Nie Yuhuai tell you?"

Cheng Yizhen was taken aback: "Yu Huai knows too?"

Song Qingjia remained silent.

Cheng Yizhen softened her tone: "Qingjia, I'm not trying to interfere with you. But, Mom thinks his profession is too dangerous. There are so many accidents in racing, if..."

She paused for a moment: "I'm not cursing him, I'm just saying what if. What if something happens? What will you do then?"

Song Qingjia couldn't help but roll her eyes. She and Nie Yuhuai were truly birds of a feather; even their thought processes were the same.

"Those are all extremely low probability events."

"But once it happens, it's 100%. Back then, your father suddenly passed away, and I—"

"Stop talking."

Cheng Yizhen was stunned by her cold voice and momentarily forgot what she was going to say next.

Before she could speak, Song Qingjia coldly retorted, "I'm twenty-five, not five. I have my own judgment and my own choices. I don't need you to tell me these things."

Cheng Yizhen wanted to persuade her further: "But..."

Song Qingjia didn't give her a chance, using the same words she used to gamble on Nie Yuhuai that day to gamble on Cheng Yizhen.

"Besides, if he dies, I'll commit suicide for him. I won't be as heartless as you."

Cheng Yizhen frowned. What did she mean by being as heartless as her?

But in the blink of an eye, the call had already been disconnected.

Song Qingjia had a terrible headache, and her already bad mood plummeted even further because of this phone call.

She touched her forehead, looked up, and froze instantly.

A familiar figure was reflected on the smooth, mirror-like elevator door, standing not far behind her.

Footsteps sounded.

The man stepped behind her, leaned down, and whispered in her ear, his voice tinged with amusement: "Song Qingjia, so you love me this much, huh?"

If it's not Xu Zhouye, then who is it?