Did It Feel Good?
Bo Yun said he would accompany Jiang Zhuoye to the racing club next week, but he had to go on a sudden business trip.
After he returned, the company was also facing a major merger, so he was extremely busy for half a month straight.
By the time he finally found time to go on a date with Jiang Zhuoye again, it was already October.
Jiang Zhuoye had changed into a loose light-gray sweater with a white shirt underneath. The cuffs were slightly rolled up, revealing his fair wrists and a brown watch. He wore matching loose dark-gray trousers.
His red hair was eye-catching no matter where he went.
In October, the ginkgo trees on campus had gradually turned yellow, and a thin layer of leaves had piled up on the ground.
He stood by the roadside looking at his phone, a bag slung over his shoulder, looking completely unconcerned about his surroundings. Yet everyone who passed by subconsciously glanced at his face.
Bo Yun slowly pulled his Phantom to a stop in front of Jiang Zhuoye.
Jiang Zhuoye was too focused on his phone, so Bo Yun had to roll down the window and call out, “Zhuoye.”
Only then did Jiang Zhuoye lazily look up.
When he saw Bo Yun, Jiang Zhuoye raised an eyebrow, walked around the car, and sat in the passenger seat.
As soon as he got in, he complained, “You’re so slow.”
Bo Yun restarted the car. “Sorry, the traffic was bad.”
Jiang Zhuoye didn’t press it further. He picked up the milk tea in the car and popped in the straw.
He had just messaged Bo Yun saying he wanted the salted cream milk tea from that shop in the city center—three-tenths sugar, with ice.
Bo Yun hadn’t replied, but sure enough, it was there when he got in.
“How long will it take to get to that racing club?” he asked.
He himself was actually a member of another racing club. What young person doesn’t love cars? Aside from Fang Chen, that oddball who only liked playing monkey in deep mountains, he and Gu Qiangyun and the others all owned garages full of luxury cars.
But for Jiang Zhuoye, the Gu Yi Club was still too refined. He’d joined at Gu Qiangyun’s invitation. That place placed heavy emphasis on history, culture, and taste. Most of the time, it wasn’t about speed, but about the owner’s taste, maintenance, and condition of the car.
So sometimes, sitting among those polite, cultured people bored him to death, and he’d already planned to switch clubs.
The place Bo Yun was taking him to that day was a newly opened one called Apex Club, owned by Bo Yun’s friend, with a professional track designed by top masters.
The owner of this club not only had an impressive business empire but was also a retired race car driver. He had spent a fortune building this racing playground, focusing heavily on the members’ driving experience.
Bo Yun was just bringing him to try it out. If Jiang Zhuoye liked it, he could come often in the future. With either Bo Yun’s or Jiang Zhuoye’s status, the club would always welcome them.
Jiang Zhuoye drank his milk tea, and in just a few minutes, more than half of it was gone. He glanced at Bo Yun, finding it hard to imagine him racing. Bo Yun was always too rational and calm. Jiang Zhuoye knew he was athletic and had seen his horse riding and sailing competitions, but Bo Yun’s everyday driving was steady and restrained. Even in heavy traffic, he rarely showed impatience—just like an old man, with no sense of urgency at all.
It was hard to imagine him enjoying an adrenaline-pumping sport like racing.
Thinking of this, Jiang Zhuoye laughed to himself.
What iceberg would like intense collisions?
An iceberg should silently float on the surface of the water—reserved, cold, and boring.
Soon, Bo Yun brought Jiang Zhuoye to their destination.
That day, the owner of Apex Club was also there. He sat outside drinking coffee, wearing sunglasses. Although he was nearly forty, he still looked young, with skin tanned to a beautiful wheat color.
When he saw Bo Yun, he smiled, removed his sunglasses, and came over to greet him. Then he looked at Jiang Zhuoye behind him and asked, “A new face, Bo Yun. Is this your friend?”
Jiang Zhuoye nodded slightly. “Hello.”
Bo Yun glanced at Jiang Zhuoye, stepped slightly to the side so Jiang Zhuoye stood closer to the front, and introduced him in a low voice, “No. This is my partner, Jiang Zhuoye.”
“Oh—”
The owner’s gaze shifted to Jiang Zhuoye’s face. He hadn’t attended Bo Yun’s wedding and had only seen photos. Back then, Jiang Zhuoye had black hair and wore a well-fitted, elegant suit, holding a champagne glass while standing with Bo Yun and his family, smiling politely and gently. Now, Jiang Zhuoye had dazzling red hair, little expression, and casual clothes, with a kind of careless arrogance in his demeanor. The owner hadn’t recognized him at first.
In fact, he’d been rather rudely guessing Jiang Zhuoye’s identity earlier.
The way Jiang Zhuoye casually swept his eyes over him carried an unconscious allure. He even suspected Jiang Zhuoye might be some yet-to-debut celebrity and couldn’t understand why he was with Bo Yun.
“Hello, nice to meet you,” the owner said with a smile, very formally extending his hand. “I’m Zhao Kong, the owner of this club.”
Jiang Zhuoye smiled back and shook his hand but didn’t say much. Although he was outgoing, he didn’t always feel like socializing with unfamiliar people and could come off as aloof.
Bo Yun knew this. After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Zhao Kong, he led Jiang Zhuoye to his private garage.
“I just got a LaFerrari Aperta,” he said. “You can try it first.”
Jiang Zhuoye had been a bit indifferent, casually observing the club’s grounds and lounge area, but when he heard that, he snapped his head around and stared at Bo Yun in disbelief.
Especially when he saw the dark silver top-tier sports car with his own eyes—the sleek body, aggressive design, like a leopard poised to strike, parked in Bo Yun’s garage, ready to roar onto the track—he could hardly tear his gaze away.
“This is brand new, right? You’re really letting me test-drive it?” Jiang Zhuoye asked incredulously.
Of course, he knew Bo Yun wasn’t stingy.
But what driver could resist a LaFerrari Aperta?
Jiang Zhuoye owned a garage full of luxury cars, but he happened to be missing this one, because his brother had thought it’d been too extravagant at the time and refused to buy it for him.
This car was a limited edition released by Ferrari. Its engine output reached 789 horsepower, with 700 Nm of torque, and a top speed exceeding 350 km/h. It was a pure performance monster, not to mention its extremely high collectible value. Enthusiasts all over the world were willing to pay for it.
Honestly, Jiang Zhuoye asked himself—if he were Bo Yun, he wouldn’t be able to lend it out before enjoying it himself.
It was a brand-new car. Who wouldn’t want first dibs?
He’d probably live in it.
But Bo Yun simply looked at him calmly. “Don’t you want to try it?”
Of course he did!
Jiang Zhuoye’s eyes lit up.
Still, he glanced back at Bo Yun and warned him, “Don’t regret it. I really know how to drive, you know that. But on the track, some damage is normal. Don’t end up heartbroken later.”
Seeing a beloved race car covered in scars could shatter someone in an instant. And for a car of this level, even minor repairs were a huge ordeal.
Bo Yun looked at him with mild curiosity. “Do you think I’m you?”
Heh.
Jiang Zhuoye immediately felt he’d wasted his concern. He didn’t bother arguing, pulled open the door, and got in.
He drove the LaFerrari Aperta onto the track.
And very quickly, he went completely wild and didn’t want to get out.
The track truly lived up to being designed by a retired racer and renowned designer Hermann. It had nineteen turns, dramatic elevation changes, and many stretches where you could floor the accelerator.
The thrill of driving a top-tier supercar like a LaFerrari on such a track was something ordinary sports cars simply couldn’t compare to. It felt like dancing with the most dangerous and passionate beauty in the world.
This was a completely different experience from his previous club.
As the wind blasted against Jiang Zhuoye’s face and his red hair streamed back, he had to admit that Bo Yun’s taste in clubs was indeed better than his.
While Jiang Zhuoye was having the time of his life, Bo Yun sat in the lounge nearby drinking tea with the owner.
Bo Yun looked oddly out of place in such a passionate club. Dressed in black, sitting under the sunlight, holding a pale celadon teacup in his fair hand, he looked overly refined and calm.
But if one looked a little further inside, they’d notice the lap record leaderboard hanging in the deeper lounge area. Apart from the owner Zhao Kong in first place, the name right below was unmistakably Bo Yun.
“I haven’t raced against you in quite a while,” Zhao Kong said with a smile. Their lounge was the closest viewing point to the track—a special design of the club, extremely thrilling. From the screens, he could also tell that Jiang Zhuoye’s driving skills were very good, just slightly behind Bo Yun.
Which was normal. After all, Jiang Zhuoye was still young and treated racing as entertainment.
Zhao Kong said, “We’re hosting a race next month. You can bring him along.”
At this, he smiled even wider. “Your partner is way cuter than you. The way his eyes lit up when he looked at the track just now—much more likable than you.”
Bo Yun let out a soft laugh.
He didn’t deny Zhao Kong’s comment. Instead, after a short pause, he replied vaguely, “He’s only cute once in a while.”
Zhao Kong laughed even louder. He looked toward the mountain slope across from them, then said to Bo Yun, “Speaking of which, you don’t seem as obsessed with racing as you used to be. When I first met you, you came to my club almost every week. Back then Apex hadn’t even been built yet—we were still at the previous club. You were really crazy, like you wouldn’t be satisfied unless you died on the track. You even blew an engine from racing too hard.”
He shook his head. “I actually wanted to suggest you try becoming a professional racer back then. But with how insane you were, I always felt you might actually die young on the track. If that happened, the guilt would’ve been huge.”
The corner of Bo Yun’s mouth curved slightly, but he didn’t argue.
He knew very well what he had been like when he first met Zhao Kong.
He wasn’t as technically perfect as professional racers, but the moment he truly pushed a car to its limits, he really did tend to forget about life and death.
“But after you got married, you really do look a lot calmer,” Zhao Kong said, openly sizing Bo Yun up. “I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but that anxiety and madness you used to have seems much more restrained now. Is this the charm of marriage and family?”
Bo Yun raised an eyebrow and glanced at him noncommittally. “Is that so?”
He didn’t feel that much of a difference himself.
Still, he joked back, “If that’s the case, I’d advise you to get married too.”
Zhao Kong burst out laughing.
“I’ll pass. I’m a firm believer in staying single. I plan to fool around my whole life.”
As he spoke, he lifted his teacup and lightly clinked it with Bo Yun’s. “Let tea stand in for alcohol. Bring your little wife over more often in the future.”
Wife.
That word made a barely noticeable smile flicker in Bo Yun’s eyes.
He thought that if Jiang Zhuoye heard that, no amount of top-tier racing experience would save Zhao Kong. Jiang Zhuoye would probably flip the table on the spot.
While the two of them chatted idly, Jiang Zhuoye finally decided to come down from the car.
Just a few laps had sent his heart rate and blood pressure soaring. His neck, arms, and leg muscles had been under constant strain, his nerves tightly wound. Now that he was out of the car, he finally felt tired—but his eyes were extremely bright, and even the way he looked at Zhao Kong was noticeably warmer than before.
Bo Yun handed him a sports drink and asked, “How was it?”
“Very good,” Jiang Zhuoye said without hesitation. He looked at Zhao Kong with clear admiration. “Mr. Zhao, your track really is top-tier. It’s a pity—I should’ve come to your club earlier.”
That look made Bo Yun raise an eyebrow and glance at Zhao Kong.
Zhao Kong laughed boldly. “Then it’s not too late now. You’re Bo Yun’s partner—my club is always open to you.”
In reality, their club had a very strict membership process, but since Bo Yun was also one of the investors, Jiang Zhuoye joining would be as easy as drinking water.
Jiang Zhuoye took small sips of his drink, then looked at Bo Yun. “Aren’t you going out on the track today? You’ve just been sitting here the whole time.”
He sized up Bo Yun’s neat, refined appearance and smiled provocatively. “What, can’t keep up physically anymore? Afraid your old bones will fall apart once you hit the track?”
Before Bo Yun could respond, Zhao Kong choked on his tea and started coughing. He stared at Jiang Zhuoye in disbelief, then laughed. “What, you’ve never seen Bo Yun race?”
Calling Bo Yun physically weak.
“No,” Jiang Zhuoye said flatly. “I’ve ridden in his car plenty of times, but he always drives slowly, like an old man’s car.”
“An old man’s car?” Zhao Kong practically lost it laughing.
“How did you manage to leave that kind of impression on your partner?” he asked Bo Yun incredulously, then turned back to Jiang Zhuoye, amused. “You’ve misjudged him badly, Mr. Jiang. This guy is a complete lunatic.”
Jiang Zhuoye held the straw in his mouth, clearly unconvinced—until Zhao Kong gestured for him to look at the single-lap timing leaderboard hanging in the hall. Second place was Bo Yun’s name, followed by a terrifying speed.
“…Seriously?” Jiang Zhuoye was stunned. He looked at the board, then at Bo Yun.
“You really should let him see what you’re like on the track,” Zhao Kong joked, giving Bo Yun a meaningful, teasing glance. “How could an ‘old man’ satisfy someone? Even I wouldn’t tolerate that title. Trust me—men who go wild on the track are the most attractive.”
Bo Yun shot him a flat look.
Zhao Kong, however, took it upon himself to place a hand on Jiang Zhuoye’s shoulder. “How about this—let Bo Yun take you for a lap. Not the T16 track you were just on. We’ll go to the T3 test track instead. Maybe you’ll be willing to be Bo Yun’s commander.”
Jiang Zhuoye looked at Bo Yun.
Bo Yun frowned, clearly thinking it was a bad idea.
“Zhao Kong, that’s against the rules,” he warned calmly.
But Jiang Zhuoye was very interested. His gaze shifted from the leaderboard back to Bo Yun’s face.
Compared to racing, he’d always thought Bo Yun looked more suited to sitting tall on a fine horse—old-fashioned, restrained, like a gentleman who was extremely disciplined and serious.
But the leaderboard had sparked his curiosity.
He really wanted to see what Bo Yun looked like when he went crazy.
He stared at Bo Yun, curved his full lips into a smile, and laughed softly. His eyes shone with strong interest. “Sure. I’d be happy to be your commander.”
….
Because Jiang Zhuoye insisted, he eventually ended up sitting in Bo Yun’s passenger seat.
At Bo Yun’s request, he put on a helmet.
Although the leaderboard had given him some understanding of Bo Yun’s driving skills, years of rivalry still made Jiang Zhuoye unwilling to fully accept it.
Maybe that record was just Bo Yun having an unusually good day.
He rested the helmet on his knees and calmly looked Bo Yun over. “I want something exciting. If you still drive slowly like an old man’s car, I’ll be very disappointed.”
He smiled at Bo Yun in an openly provocative way.
Bo Yun quietly looked at him, watching as Jiang Zhuoye put on the helmet and the HANS system.
He wasn’t as childish as Jiang Zhuoye—he wouldn’t lose his reason just because of that kind of provocation and insist on competing.
But his eyes lingered on Jiang Zhuoye’s long, pale fingers. The wedding ring had been removed briefly earlier, leaving a pale mark behind.
For some reason, that mark felt painfully obvious to him.
In that instant, it was as if he had returned to the days when he raced madly on the track.
Driving different top-tier supercars up slopes, pushing speeds to the limits the cars could endure, wheels nearly throwing sparks—there were moments when he truly hoped that beyond the track was a cliff.
He would plunge straight down.
His long-standing desires, his suppressed madness, this false mask he wore—all of it would burn away with a thunderous crash, turning to ash.
Zhao Kong had joked that after marriage, he seemed more stable, less crazed than before.
But Bo Yun thought Zhao Kong had misjudged him.
“Hold tight, commander,” Bo Yun said softly.
The engine roared like a wild beast, and the car shot forward like lightning.
The massive force slammed Jiang Zhuoye back into the seat.
The scenery on both sides twisted and blurred at extreme speed. Even with a professional helmet on, he could feel the rushing air.
What the hell—
Jiang Zhuoye couldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t believe Bo Yun’s instant acceleration.
With difficulty, he glanced at the speedometer. The number was terrifying.
At that moment, he finally understood what Zhao Kong meant when he casually said that Bo Yun was a lunatic.
The LaFerrari Aperta really was a world-class supercar, with top-tier speed and design, capable of igniting the wildness inside a driver.
But it couldn’t take this kind of abuse either!
Jiang Zhuoye’s heart was pounding. He was one of the better drivers among amateurs and had watched many world-class races up close.
But sitting in the stands was completely different from sitting in Bo Yun’s car.
It felt like being in a completely out-of-control death machine, with violent wind screaming past.
Everything around him became strangely quiet, even though the wind was roaring in his ears.
His mind went blank. Only his heartbeat was clear.
For a moment, he even felt as if he were on a professional race track, and the person beside him wasn’t the Bo Yun he knew, but some racer who had kidnapped him and invited him on a tour of death.
Meanwhile, Bo Yun remained extremely calm the entire time, both hands gripping the steering wheel.
It was as if he had driven this track thousands of times, completely unaffected by his surroundings.
He drove the top-tier supercar the same way he drove his steady business car.
But on closer look, beneath that calm, there was something completely different—his eyes were slowly filling with a kind of wild joy.
He was still accelerating, as if he didn’t feel the air slicing across his face like blades.
Faster.
Fast enough to outrun time, outrun wind, outrun light, outrun everything in the world—until the end of the universe.
With a single thunderous crash, reduced to nothing.
Maybe only there could he obtain everything he dreamed of.
Bo Yun narrowed his eyes slightly and slammed the accelerator down. Just as the front wheels passed the apex of the turn, he instantly pulled the speed to its limit under Jiang Zhuoye’s stunned gaze, controlling the steering wheel with extreme precision and flowing smoothly as the LaFerrari nearly exploded into the next straight.
Completely unconcerned with how badly the “commander” in the passenger seat wanted to strangle him.
It wasn’t until the third lap that Bo Yun finally began to slow down.
Only then did he spare a glance at Jiang Zhuoye beside him.
Jiang Zhuoye was wearing a helmet, so only the upper half of his face was visible.
He didn’t say a word, but from his stiff posture, Bo Yun could tell he’d probably scared his beloved partner.
Bo Yun gradually reduced speed and drove into the service bay.
After parking steadily, he turned to Jiang Zhuoye and asked with a hint of careless amusement in his voice, “Still feel like an old man’s car?”
Jiang Zhuoye didn’t respond immediately. He took off his helmet instead.
Bo Yun was the one who had been driving, yet Jiang Zhuoye looked like the one who’d been dragged out of water.
He was breathing hard, staring at Bo Yun, still unable to recover from the thrill.
Dazed, he thought, is this driving?
This is basically suicide.
When they went through the turns, the force had dragged at his body, his insides feeling twisted together. There really had been a moment when he thought he’d lose his life right there.
Luckily, he’d trained on tracks for a long time. If it had been anyone else sitting there, they’d probably be vomiting by now.
Jiang Zhuoye stared at Bo Yun, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. He really wanted to curse at him, but even now his heart still hadn’t stopped pounding violently.
All he could do was look at him in exhaustion—look at Bo Yun’s hateful, pale face, at those eyes as dark as misty rain, and at his light red lips.
He thought, this really was unfair.
They had clearly been driving the same speeding car along a mountain road, yet Bo Yun remained calm the whole time, as if he were born without knowing what panic was. That burst of extreme speeding had barely affected him.
So much so that Bo Yun could now look down on him and calmly watch his disheveled state.
Seeing that Jiang Zhuoye still hadn’t answered his question,
Bo Yun’s red lips curved slightly upward.
He clearly had no intention of letting Jiang Zhuoye off. Instead, he stared at him without blinking.
The high-speed driving just now hadn’t had no effect on him either. The rush of adrenaline made his entire body stir with restless irritation, awakening a vicious excitement and desire to destroy deep in his bones.
He fixed his gaze on Jiang Zhuoye—his skin pale, yet his cheeks lightly flushed, damp bangs sticking to the side of his face, lips red to an almost unbelievable degree, carrying a rare sense of vulnerability.
Someone who was usually wild and arrogant like a lion now looked at him like an innocent, dazed little deer. It was enough to ignite the hidden desires of any man.
He let out a soft laugh, his eyes filled with undisguised malice, and asked Jiang Zhuoye again:
“Did it feel good, Jiang Zhuoye?”
Jiang Zhuoye.
He bit out the last two characters with deliberate clarity. His voice was cool and clean, like jade striking jade, yet in the quiet maintenance room it sounded unusually ambiguous.
Boom.
All the blood in Jiang Zhuoye’s body rushed to his face.
His adrenaline surged even more fiercely than it had on the sharp mountain curves.
His whole body burned hot, yet his heart felt weak, his tongue stiff, unable to say a single word in protest.
After a long moment, he finally forced out a word:
“Crazy.”
After saying that, without caring about Bo Yun’s reaction, he got out of the car first. But perhaps because he was too tense, his legs even went a little weak.
Jiang Zhuoye walked straight toward the rest area without looking back, completely unconcerned with whether Bo Yun followed or not.
Yet the heat on his face never went down, even though the maintenance room had air conditioning.
Irritably, he tugged at his collar.
He thought, this was really deadly.
No wonder people said the suspension bridge effect was terrifying—it could make hormones spiral out of control in an instant, mistaking tension and fear for signals of love.
Just moments ago, after a drive that could be described as brushing against death, Bo Yun had looked at him calmly. His black, half-long hair was tied behind his head, a bit of sweat on his pale face, his eyes fixed directly on him.
And he had actually…
For a brief moment…
Faced with Bo Yun’s face, he had felt something close to his heart skipping a beat.
This was insane.
Jiang Zhuoye cursed himself in his mind and went to look for a calming drink as soon as he entered the lounge.
Only when the icy liquid slid down his throat did he finally feel a bit better.
[1]Author’s Note:
Although today’s chapter title looks a bit suggestive, the incident that makes Zhuoye regret everything hasn’t happened yet.
Seeing everyone so excited makes me really sorry, … Continue reading jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_1478126_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_1478126_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });
References[+]
Author’s Note:
Although today’s chapter title looks a bit suggestive, the incident that makes Zhuoye regret everything hasn’t happened yet.
Seeing everyone so excited makes me really sorry, QWQ function footnote_expand_reference_container_1478126_1() { jQuery('#footnote_references_container_1478126_1').show(); jQuery('#footnote_reference_container_collapse_button_1478126_1').text('−'); } function footnote_collapse_reference_container_1478126_1() { jQuery('#footnote_references_container_1478126_1').hide(); jQuery('#footnote_reference_container_collapse_button_1478126_1').text('+'); } function footnote_expand_collapse_reference_container_1478126_1() { if (jQuery('#footnote_references_container_1478126_1').is(':hidden')) { footnote_expand_reference_container_1478126_1(); } else { footnote_collapse_reference_container_1478126_1(); } } function footnote_moveToReference_1478126_1(p_str_TargetID) { footnote_expand_reference_container_1478126_1(); var l_obj_Target = jQuery('#' + p_str_TargetID); if (l_obj_Target.length) { jQuery( 'html, body' ).delay( 0 ); jQuery('html, body').animate({ scrollTop: l_obj_Target.offset().top - window.innerHeight * 0.2 }, 380); } } function footnote_moveToAnchor_1478126_1(p_str_TargetID) { footnote_expand_reference_container_1478126_1(); var l_obj_Target = jQuery('#' + p_str_TargetID); if (l_obj_Target.length) { jQuery( 'html, body' ).delay( 0 ); jQuery('html, body').animate({ scrollTop: l_obj_Target.offset().top - window.innerHeight * 0.2 }, 380); } }
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