eurekapd Chapter 498. Known in the martial arts world as "Scrap Hairy Wave"!
Chapter 498. Known in the martial arts world as "Scrap Hairy Wave"!
Upon hearing this, Wu Shaojie immediately put on a mournful face and began to pour out his grievances:
"Oh! Don't even mention it! I've squandered all the money my buddies at the shop had! Now they avoid me like the plague! My cronies? Humph, they're even more strapped for cash than I am, and even less reliable than me! It's true what they say, 'Mountains crumble, people run away!'"
As he spoke, his eyes darted around, and suddenly he looked at Ye Fan with a sly grin:
"Hey! Old Ye! You seem like a steady and reliable guy, not the type to recklessly speed and get points deducted! Maybe I'll need to borrow your license sometime when I'm short on points? Hehe..."
Ye Fan's face immediately fell into a dark expression: Good grief, they were waiting for me here.
Before he could even complain, Wu Shaojie, whether out of habit or because he saw that there were few cars ahead, couldn't help but step on the gas pedal again.
The car jerked suddenly, and the sudden push made Ye Fan reflexively grip the handrail tightly again. A strong suspicion arose in his mind: Could this guy's driver's license really have been bought with money?
This driving style is really putting passengers' hearts and backs to the test.
The fiery red Ferrari was like a moving magnet, attracting countless admiring, envious, and even jealous glances from passersby.
Ye Fan watched the street scenes rushing past the window. The bustling city center was gradually left behind, replaced by sparser buildings and a wide-open view.
He frowned slightly, looked up, and asked:
"Old Wu, we're going the wrong way! We're almost out of Jinling city limits, aren't we? Where are we going?"
As Wu Shaojie skillfully maneuvered the steering wheel through the corner, he smiled and kept everyone in suspense:
"What's the rush! The best is yet to come! By the way, Lao Ye, have you ever raced at a racetrack before? You know, a professional one?"
Memories of the Wanchi racetrack immediately flashed through Ye Fan's mind: the deafening roar of engines, the acrid smell of tires rubbing against the track, and...
He nodded, his tone flat: "Yes, I've been there once."
"ah?!"
Wu Shaojie let out an exaggerated shout, his face showing a look of utter disappointment that his "plan had failed," and he almost lost his grip on the steering wheel.
"Damn! I thought you'd never been before! I was thinking of taking you, this young master who'd just been released from your family, to broaden your horizons, let you experience speed and passion! Turns out you've been before? Turns out I've been excited for nothing, and I'm the one who's been the clown all this time!"
His tone was full of "heartache and indignation".
Seeing his silly antics, Ye Fan couldn't help but smile: "I've only been there once, and I didn't really have enough fun last time, I didn't really let loose. Just pretend I never went, and make arrangements however you like."
He omitted the unpleasant details of his conflict with Yan Jun and the crash of the McLaren P1.
"Oh! I see!"
Wu Shaojie's face immediately lit up with a smile, as if he had found new motivation: "Alright! I've got your back, brother! I guarantee you'll have a blast this time!"
He stepped on the gas, and the car continued speeding in the familiar direction.
As Ye Fan gazed out the window at the increasingly familiar road and the faintly visible mountain outlines in the distance, he became completely certain.
This road leads directly to the Wanchi International Circuit!
The scene of Gu Yuejia bringing him here to "clear his head" is still vivid in his mind, and he can't forget that reckless simp Yan Jun, and that thrilling collision—his brand-new McLaren P1 is probably still "healing" in some top-notch repair shop right now...
If Lao Wu knew that the person who drove his P here and caused such a ruckus last time was sitting in his passenger seat, what kind of expression would he have?
Ye Fan's lips curled into a playful smile as he looked toward the end of the road, where the clamor of the racetrack could be faintly heard.
......
Under Wu Shaojie's somewhat rough control, the fiery red Ferrari 458 drifted, accompanied by the screeching of tires screeching against the ground, and precisely turned into the entrance tunnel of the Wanchi Circuit.
The air was thick with the smell of burning tires and the deep rumble of engines in the distance, creating a restless atmosphere.
As soon as the car entered the parking area, a series of urgent car horns blared.
"Beep beep beep! Beep beep beep!"
Looking in the direction of the sound, they saw a striking young man standing next to a brightly modified Golf GTI, waving vigorously at them.
The person had a head of hair that looked like a color palette—fluorescent green, bright purple, and garish pink were mixed together haphazardly.
His ripped denim jacket and equally man-made holes in his black leggings made him look like he had just crawled out of a disaster site.
This was Zhang Lang, the "misfit" Wu Shaojie had mentioned.
"Young Master Wu! Over here! Over here!" Zhang Lang shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice particularly loud in the empty parking lot.
Wu Shaojie slammed the car right in front of Zhang Lang, then braked abruptly, albeit not very smoothly. The two got out of the car.
Ye Fan could barely stand up by holding onto the car door, and couldn't help but gasp, rubbing his sore lower back.
Sitting in the passenger seat of a sports car, especially one driven by Wu Shaojie, is practically torture for your back!
At least you can control the pace and experience the joy of driving if you drive yourself, but sitting next to someone else is just asking for trouble!
He was internally ranting and raving.
Wu Shaojie, on the other hand, was in high spirits, as if his previous high-speed drive had been a massage.
He pointed at Ye Fan and introduced him to Zhang Lang, who was coming up to him, in a very casual manner: "Langzi, let me introduce you to someone special! This is my best friend, Ye Fan! Young Master Ye!"
Then, he turned to Ye Fan, pointing his finger unceremoniously at Zhang Lang's multicolored head, a mischievous grin on his face:
"Old Ye, this guy... cough cough, this walking neon sign, known in the underworld as 'Scraphead Lang,' his real name is Zhang Lang! Just call him 'Scraphead'!"
Zhang Lang's enthusiastic smile froze instantly, his lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes dramatically.
"Damn it! Wu Shaojie! You can't say anything nice! Is that how you introduce your brothers?"
He angrily punched Wu Shaojie, then immediately put on a bright (though slightly comical with his unkempt hair) smile and extended his hand to Ye Fan:
"Young Master Ye, don't listen to his nonsense! Just call me Zhang Lang! Nice to meet you!"
Ye Fan suppressed a laugh and reached out to shake his hand.
Perhaps influenced by Wu Shaojie's preconceived notion of him being a "spoiled brat," he blurted out, "Brother Spoiled Brat..."
He'd barely uttered two words when he realized his mistake, quickly slammed on the brakes, coughed awkwardly, and forced himself to change his words: "Ahem... Hello, Brother Zhang! Nice to meet you!"
To ease the slight awkwardness, Ye Fan's gaze sincerely fell on Zhang Lang's visually striking hair, and he exclaimed with genuine admiration and a touch of curiosity:
"Brother Zhang, your hair color...it's really unique! It's eye-catching and quite cool!"