The roar of engines and simulator data occupied most of Feng Miwan’s time as she prepared fully for the Shangdu Station in mid-August.
On the points leaderboard, she and Song Zhe were neck and neck, neither daring to slack off even slightly.
Xiong Yibai also adjusted her work schedule to ensure that warm lights and simple companionship always awaited Feng Miwan when she returned from training.
Time flew by, and mid-August arrived in the blink of an eye.
That evening, Xiong Yibai and Feng Miwan nestled on the sofa. The TV was playing a racing special program.
The host analyzed the Shangdu Station situation in an exaggerated tone.
Clips of Feng Miwan and Song Zhe’s races flashed continuously on the screen, with subtitles like “Battle for the Top Spot.”
Feng Miwan only glanced at it a few times before losing interest.
She leaned sideways into Xiong Yibai’s embrace, resting her head on her shoulder and nuzzling to find the most comfortable position.
“So noisy.”
She muttered softly, reached for the remote, and directly muted it.
Xiong Yibai was reading a medical paper on her phone. Feeling the weight on her shoulder and the added warmth in her arms,
she simply adjusted her sitting position to make it more comfortable for her, wrapping her free hand around Feng Miwan’s waist.
“Not listening anymore?”
“Nothing worth hearing,”
Feng Miwan shook her head in the hollow of her shoulder,
“it’s all the same old stuff—pressure, crucial moments, arch-rivals…”
She tilted her face up to look at Xiong Yibai.
“Anyway, like you said, what they say doesn’t define me. What happens on the track depends on this,”—she tapped her temple—”and this.” She pressed her chest.
Only then did Xiong Yibai look away from her phone screen, lowering her gaze to the person sprawled in her arms.
She ruffled Feng Miwan’s hair. “Good mindset. Keep it up.”
“Of course!”
“Yibai, you’re… really taking time off to come watch my race in Shangdu? Won’t it delay your work too much?”
Though she knew the answer, Feng Miwan still wanted to hear it again.
Xiong Yibai set her phone aside and wrapped both arms around her.
“Mm, the leave is already approved. I want to be there in person for all your important races.”
Feng Miwan beamed. “Great!”
The night before departing for Shangdu, the two packed their luggage in the bedroom.
Xiong Yibai checked Feng Miwan’s already-packed suitcase for anything missing.
Her gaze swept over the contents, and she suddenly asked,
“What about the Little Fortune Bag I gave you? Did you pack it?”
“Packed it, packed it!”
Feng Miwan pulled a Little Fortune Bag from the side pocket of her backpack.
“See, it’s been with me the whole time.”
Xiong Yibai took the bag and looked up at her. “And… your Destiny Coin?”
Feng Miwan fished it out from another hidden pocket in her backpack.
“Here it is. But I hardly use it anymore, really!”
She quickly clarified.
Ever since Xiong Yibai had pointed it out to her, she had indeed relied more on her own judgment and efforts, rather than treating the coin like a god.
Xiong Yibai extended her hand. “Give me the coin.”
Though puzzled, Feng Miwan obediently placed it in her palm.
Xiong Yibai untied the drawstring of the Little Fortune Bag, slipped the coin inside, retied it, and handed it back to Feng Miwan.
“Yibai, what…” Feng Miwan didn’t quite understand.
Xiong Yibai looked at Feng Miwan.
“Before, you treated it like a die to decide your path, handing your choices over to luck.”
“Now, put it inside the Little Fortune Bag.”
“Let it stay quietly in there. Not to choose your path for you, but to let this bag—and me—guard your destiny for you.”
“The road ahead, you choose yourself, drive it yourself. We’ll just make sure you’re blessed with happiness and safety.”
Feng Miwan clutched the bag tightly and nodded vigorously. “Mm! I get it!”
Xiong Yibai ruffled her hair. “Good. Hurry and finish packing; we’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”
Feng Miwan tucked the Little Fortune Bag back into the innermost compartment of her backpack, zipped it up, and continued packing with renewed energy.
The next day, the group arrived in Shangdu.
In addition to the fully prepared Maple Grove Racing Team, there were two extra unofficial members.
While checking in at the hotel lobby, Zhao Shutong watched as Ren Queyue insisted on booking the room next to hers, her forehead vein throbbing.
“Ren Queyue, are you bound to me or something? Like a system attached to a web novel protagonist—I go where you have to follow?!”
Ren Queyue looked utterly righteous.
“Zhao Shutong, don’t put it that way. I’m just concerned about my friend’s personal safety. Besides, is this hotel yours? If you can stay, why can’t I?”
Zhao Shutong gripped her room key so hard it creaked. “I’m here to cheer for Wanwan, not play some ‘she runs, she chases’ game with you!”
Ren Queyue remained unfazed and headed to the elevator with her luggage.
“What a coincidence, I’m here to cheer for Little Wan too. We’re just both here by chance.”
Feng Miwan and Xiong Yibai stood nearby, watching the two start their usual bickering, and exchanged helpless glances.
Feng Miwan whispered to Xiong Yibai,
“I think with those two around, half the race tension is gone. Just watching them snipe at each other is entertaining enough.”
Xiong Yibai nodded. “Exactly.”
Meanwhile, Feng Yuxiao had arrived at the circuit ahead of time with the Maple Grove Racing Team’s technicians, busily fine-tuning the cars and analyzing data.
During the pre-race interview segment in the media area,
Feng Miwan, dressed in her team uniform, faced the cameras and microphones with flawless responses.
“The Shangdu Station track is very challenging; I’m looking forward to it. I’ll do my best to find my rhythm, and let the results fall where they may.”
She even cracked a little joke. “Hoping the weather shows some mercy and doesn’t get too hot.”
When it was Song Zhe’s turn, he maintained his usual stern demeanor.
“The points are close, but that doesn’t mean much. True strength will be tested on the toughest tracks.”
“I hope my opponents bring 100% effort, leaving no excuses.”
Just then, Jiang Chengfeng popped up out of nowhere, grinning as he squeezed to the mic and slung an arm around Song Zhe’s shoulders.
“Hey, hey, hey! My turn, my turn!”
Jiang Chengfeng flashed a brilliant smile at the camera.
“Media folks, thanks for waiting! For Shangdu Station, Jiang Chengfeng has just one goal—fight for a podium spot, ideally by bumping my Zhe-ge and Sister Wan for first place!”
His words drew laughs even from the reporters.
Song Zhe frowned beside him and muttered, “Shut it.”
Jiang Chengfeng didn’t care, leaning closer.
“Zhe-ge, don’t stress so much. Smile for the camera!”
The interviews wrapped up amid Jiang Chengfeng’s playful antics.
