"Brother Jie, did Shine Hui lose just like that?"
On the mountaintop platform, Tao looked at the Mercedes AMG, which had been overtaken and then stopped abruptly, and felt the scene of the Corolla overtaking and heading downhill without stopping was somewhat unbelievable.
It had only taken two corners, less than a minute, for the Corolla to overtake the AMG in the bend. Even if Shine Hui was a subpar driver, the problem was that his opponent was also a high school classmate. How could the gap be this large?
"Tao, drive down the mountain. Let’s catch up to that kid in the Corolla."
Qin Lianjie called out to Tao, then turned around and pulled open the door of the parked Civic Type-R on the roadside. He had grown very interested in Chen Xiangbei, a fellow high school student, and wanted to meet him.
On the other hand, Wang Yidong remained in shock over the overtaking until the AMG’s taillights disappeared from view. His first instinct was not to celebrate with Chen Xiangbei, but rather to quickly lower the window and stick his head out, vomiting loudly.
"Who gets car sick and vomits like that～～"
Chen Xiangbei said helplessly, then pulled out some tissues and handed them over.
After a few minutes of vomiting, Wang Yidong finally pulled his head back inside, wiping his mouth and breathing heavily, saying, "Uncle Liang wasn’t lying; you really can run down Nanyun Mountain in five minutes!"
"Not bad, just basic skills."
"You call that ’not bad’?"
Wang Yidong turned and stared with wide eyes at Chen Xiangbei. Completing the descent in five minutes is not too much to call him the South Cloud Mountain Car God!
However, at this moment, Wang Yidong couldn’t focus on whether Chen Xiangbei was being modest or showing off, because he just remembered something important and hurriedly spoke, "Why did we just head downhill? We haven’t properly mocked that loser Shine Hui to vent our anger!"
"What’s there to mock? Beating such an opponent gives no sense of achievement."
In truth, Wang Yidong wanted to impress Xu Yali, but he swallowed his words.
So what if they won? Xu Yali was still sitting in Shine Hui’s Mercedes, while he could only ride down with the Corolla.
Moreover, it was Chen Xiangbei who won this race.
Seeing Fatty Wang slightly upset, Chen Xiangbei reached over and patted his shoulder, comforting him, "It’s okay; it’s just one less chance to impress Xu Yali. Consider it a learning experience."
"Wait until we’re back at school, flatter a few more girls. By then, you can choose whoever you want, and when they’re used to your attention, they’ll feel lost when you don’t give it. At that moment, you will have the upper hand!"
Chen Xiangbei’s "King of Sycophants" theory left Wang Yidong dumbfounded. Since when did this kid have such life wisdom?
Before Wang Yidong could process it, the car suddenly brightened up as a vehicle behind them flashed its high beams at the Corolla.
Seeing this, Wang Yidong turned his head to look back. The lights blurred other details, but the red Honda badge was particularly prominent, indicating it was a performance car.
"Xiangbei, it’s a red-badge Honda. Could someone be challenging you to a spontaneous race?"
Many automotive brands distinguish their performance line from regular production models with significant identifiers.
For example, Audi’s high-performance RS models use silver side mirrors, commonly known as the "silver ears Audi." Volkswagen’s high-performance R series uses blue indicator needles on the dashboard, nicknamed "blue needle VW."
As for Honda, they make it even easier to identify. Their high-performance Type-R models paint the H badge in sporty red, earning the nickname "red-badge Honda."
According to street racing rules, when two drivers meet and want to race, the trailing car flashes its lights at the leading car. If the leading car accepts, both drivers will floor the gas to accelerate.
If the leading car has no intention or concedes, they slow down and signal to let the trailing car pass.
Being a professional driver in his previous life, Chen Xiangbei found street racing uninteresting. Furthermore, after pushing the Toyota Corolla hard earlier, he suspected something was wrong with the car as the brakes felt increasingly stiff.
Really racing again on Nanyun Mountain Road might require a tow back. Although Fatty Wang was carefree, even his heavy fatherly love might not withstand it.
Without much thought, Chen Xiangbei signaled and moved aside to let the red-badge Honda pass.
However, after overtaking the Corolla, the red-badge Honda did not speed away but slowed down with its signal lights on, parking in front.
"Damn, that’s Qin Lianjie’s Civic Type-R!"
Recognizing the model, Wang Yidong exclaimed, his face showing admiration.
The car was the third-generation Civic Type-R, equipped with the legendary red-head K20A engine, a 2.0L naturally aspirated four-cylinder, with a peak horsepower of 225P and peak torque of 215Nm.
This model and engine were Honda’s top performance imports into the domestic market. Not because of absolute performance—after all, above the Type-R series was the "Japanese Ferrari," the Honda NSX, among the four great Japanese supercars.
But because this model, at a relatively affordable price, boasted an incredibly reliable engine and a sentiment for being the last of its kind capable of reaching ten thousand RPM with red-head mods, elevating the third-generation Civic Type-R to its peak.
Subsequently, ordinary Civics and Jazz often felt embarrassed to not paint their badges red when out on the streets, as red-badge Hondas became ubiquitous...
Wang Yidong’s Dream Car was this third-generation Civic Type-R in front of him. He’d always admired Qin Lianjie from the Guangshen Light Point Team, believing him to be the rightful South Cloud Mountain Car God. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱
Of course, that title might need to change now. If Chen Xiangbei had a performance car and raced down Nanyun Mountain, he would likely break the five-minute downhill record!
At this moment, the Civic Type-R driver’s door opened, and a young man who resembled a low-budget version of Lin Jiadong stepped out. He walked straight to Chen Xiangbei’s window, extending his hand, "Nice to meet you. I’m Qin Lianjie, a driver with the Guangshen Light Point Team."
"Hello, I’m Chen Xiangbei."
Chen Xiangbei shook his hand, giving a brief self-introduction.
"I watched from the mountaintop; you drove very fast. I want to race you. Do you have time?"
Chen Xiangbei shook his head—not only was he busy, but he also didn’t even own a car...
Qin Lianjie seemed indifferent to Chen Xiangbei’s refusal, smiling as he spread his hands, "If you race and win, I’ll give you thirty thousand."
"I can’t pay if I lose."
Chen Xiangbei replied with a smile, he didn’t even have three hundred on him, let alone play in underground races.
"It’s fine if you lose, I won’t ask for any money, just join the Light Point Team."
Faced with Qin Lianjie’s offer, Chen Xiangbei remained silent without immediately responding.
He didn’t believe he would lose, and he really needed the money.
Even though he’d died in a racing accident in his last life, with the engine roaring, Chen Xiangbei still felt his blood boil, as racing had become a part of his life in some sense.
But racing was an extremely costly sport, even the so-called affordable JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) tuning required significant time and financial investment.
There were times he’d dream, wishing that if he’d just had a bit more sponsorship in his past life, he might have secured a full-time F1 driver seat—how different would life have been then?
Sadly, there’s no "what if" in life. Besides being a sport, racing is a commercial competition, and "money power" is indeed a form of capability.
Hesitation often signals interest.
Qin Lianjie didn’t push further; instead, confidently announcing, "If you want to race, I’ll wait for you at Nanyun Mountain this Saturday night."
Having said his piece, Qin Lianjie turned back to his Civic Type-R. With the engine roar, he gradually drove away.
PS: All my brothers, please keep reading and voting to support this niche racing story by a newbie writer.