Chapter 21
Chapter 21: Yan Ting Feng: She’s Mine
Before tonight, everyone believed Blade Pass was just theory—something that only existed in scripts and editing rooms.
No one did it in real life. One mistake, and it was metal and blood, car and corpse.
But Ye Wan Lan did it anyway.
And she didn’t stop there. She drove straight into first place.
Fang Qing Ye only felt a violent gust tear past his ear. He froze.
When his brain finally caught up, a car ahead of him was tilted sideways, half on the road and half on the cliff wall.
His mouth fell open. “What the hell…?”
Three seconds later, reality slammed into him.
That was Yan Ting Feng’s car.
“Is she sick?!” Fang Qing Ye cursed, veins bulging at his temples. “That woman doesn’t value her life at all!”
What did she think this was—filming an action movie?
Instinct screamed at him to accelerate.
Fear strangled the impulse.
This was Death Curve. The bend that ate people.
He could only watch as that old car vanished into the dark as if it owned the mountain.
“Damn it!” Fang Qing Ye slammed his fist into the steering wheel, his face twisting.
It wasn’t that his car was worse.
He just wasn’t willing to drive like her—betting everything on a single heartbeat, paying for speed with his life.
That girl was a madwoman. She didn’t care whether she lived or died.
Vrrrm—boom!
Ye Wan Lan accelerated again, and this time she left every other vehicle far behind.
As Yan Ting Feng’s shadow guards, Bing He and Tie Ma had survived gunfire, ambushes, and nights where death came from a sniper’s scope. Their hearts had never pounded like this.
Ye Wan Lan looked quiet. Gentle, even.
How was she someone who drove like a lunatic?
A lunatic plus a fast car was a beast with broken chains—unstoppable.
But Yan Ting Feng wasn’t afraid.
He looked almost… delighted.
One hand propped under his chin, he watched the girl behind the wheel. The smile in his eyes brightened, like a fire that could burn through darkness itself.
They looped the mountain and blasted across the finish line at the base.
Then Ye Wan Lan hit the brakes—perfect timing, perfect control—and the car stopped so neatly it looked as though she’d placed it there by hand.
“Sir!”
“Ahhh, Sister Lan!”
Cheng Qing Li sprinted over, with Bing He and Tie Ma right behind her.
The doors opened. The two of them stepped out.
Yan Ting Feng coughed once, like he’d forgotten how to speak. “Miss Ye’s racing skill—”
“It’s terrifying,” Bing He blurted, awe slipping through despite himself.
Tie Ma nodded hard. “Makes your blood run cold.”
Cheng Qing Li stared at them. “You two have read too many fantasy novels.”
Ye Wan Lan tipped her head. “Regret getting in my car?”
She still hadn’t removed her helmet, so no one could read her expression.
But when she leaned back against the car, hair streaming in the wind, she looked like something torn out of a painting—unreasonably beautiful, impossibly distant.
Yan Ting Feng flicked dust from his sleeve with lazy precision. “Why would I? If I didn’t dare get into Miss Ye’s car, what would be the point of living?”
Bing He muttered under his breath, “Isn’t getting in the part that feels like dying?”
“First place!” Cheng Qing Li practically bounced on her toes. “Sister Lan, you’re first! That was insane!”
Ye Wan Lan gave a soft “Mm.” “Average.”
She walked forward.
People stepped back without thinking.
Still wearing her helmet, Ye Wan Lan addressed the young man at the referee’s table. “I want to see Jiang Xu Lin.”
The entire crowd fell silent.
Then, as if guided by instinct, all eyes turned to Yan Ting Feng.
The message in those looks was blunt and shameless: You’ve been cheated on.
Yan Ting Feng’s eyes narrowed.
The referee’s assistant hesitated, then nodded quickly. “W-wait a moment.”
He bolted toward the lounge behind the track, shouting as he ran, “Brother Jiang! Brother Jiang—the winner wants to see you!”
A hoarse voice snapped back from inside. “Not seeing her. Get lost.”
The assistant rushed his words out, desperate. “Uh—well, a girl took first place, and she even showed Blade Pass. That’s kind of unbelievable, but for you, Brother Jiang, it’s probably nothing—”
“Wait.” The voice changed. Footsteps. A pause. “A woman?”
“Yes!”
“And Blade Pass?”
“Yes!”
“I’ll see her. Bring her in.”
In full view of everyone, Ye Wan Lan was respectfully ushered into the lounge.
The door shut behind her, cutting off the noise of the mountain.
Fang Qing Ye’s Bugatti didn’t roll over the finish line until then.
He climbed out fast, scanning the crowd. “Where’s that woman? Did she run?”
She’d crushed him, stolen first place, and shown off like a maniac—wasn’t it all to get his attention?
And she didn’t even wait for him?
Someone answered, stammering, “B-been… been taken by Brother Jiang.”
“Jiang Xu Lin?” Fang Qing Ye’s eyes narrowed. He gave a cold laugh. “Fine. I’ll come back another day.”
He shot Yan Ting Feng a dark look and walked off.
“Brother Yan!” A young man sidled up, grinning. “If you don’t mind, can you give me that young lady who was driving? Let me have some fun with her—”
He didn’t finish.
A strangled scream burst out of him.
Yan Ting Feng had one hand locked around his throat. Blood seeped between his fingers, and yet his voice was soft—soft to the point of tenderness.
“She’s mine,” he said. “Understand?”
His phoenix eyes shimmered with flowing light, curving slightly like a crescent moon—beautiful, cold, and merciless.
The young man’s pupils shook. Fear wrapped around his heart like an icy snake.
He couldn’t understand how this man had turned violent in the space of a breath.
Yan Ting Feng let the smile fall away. “Get lost.”
The young man scrambled backward, then ran.
Yan Ting Feng leaned against a tree. Moonlight washed over his white hair until it blended into the mountain’s shadows.
He wiped the blood from his hands slowly, saying nothing at all.
—
Inside the lounge, Ye Wan Lan finally took off her helmet.
Jiang Xu Lin recognized her face at once. Surprise flickered across his expression.
Ye Wan Lan sat down across from him and gave a polite nod. “Hello.”
“Ye Wan Lan?” Jiang Xu Lin leaned back, a half-smile on his lips. “I know you. Sheng Yun Yi’s stand-in. Everyone in Jiang’s circle has heard the gossip. Let me guess—you’re here because Zhou He Chen wants me to help him?”
Ye Wan Lan’s expression didn’t shift. “I’m here to talk business with you.”
“You?” Jiang Xu Lin crossed one leg over the other, amused. “What makes you worth cooperating with?”
He lifted a brow. “Because you took first place tonight? Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know women racers who are better than you. They’re ranked internationally.”
Ye Wan Lan spoke evenly, each word measured. “Jiang Xu Lin. Twenty-six years old. From South City. You came to River City to study at fifteen. Your parents were both inheritors of Su Embroidery, an intangible cultural heritage.”
Jiang Xu Lin’s smile tightened. He still looked casual, but his eyes sharpened. “Not bad. You looked me up. But do you think any of this is secret? Anyone who knows me knows that.”
“Five years ago, your parents died in a car accident.” Ye Wan Lan’s tone stayed calm. “It was confirmed to be deliberate, but the police still haven’t found the killer.”
Jiang Xu Lin’s posture shifted slightly, almost too subtle to notice.
“You were embroidering when you received the news.” Ye Wan Lan watched him without blinking. “You had a severe stress reaction. From then on, you haven’t been able to touch a needle.”
The smile vanished from Jiang Xu Lin’s face.
“You came to River City because the trail broke here,” Ye Wan Lan continued. “You’ve been searching for five years. You found nothing.”
Then she reached out and tapped the table lightly, like a gavel.
“I’ll cure you,” she said. “I’ll help you find the person who killed your parents. You join my company. That’s the deal.”
Jiang Xu Lin’s eyes turned sharp and dangerous. “Who are you?!”