Chapter 122: Are You Tired of Living

His friend knew to keep things light and immediately took a group away.

Han Qi leaned against the car smoking, not approaching immediately.

From his angle, Nan Jiaojiao was sideways to him.

The sharp mountain breeze funnelled through her blouse collar, puffing it out like a small sail.

Her ponytail was tied high, a few strands of hair by her temples fluttered about, some naively flying towards her eyes.

She squinted slightly, and under the faint play of light and shadow, her face was stunningly beautiful.

Han Qi took a deep drag of his cigarette, snuffed it out, and walked over with a leather jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

“The mountain wind is chilly, don’t catch a cold on the way back.”

Nan Jiaojiao gave him a faint look, always feeling like a weasel greeting a chicken for the New Year.

“Want to have a go?

I’ll take you?”

Han Qi tilted his chin forward just as two racing cars sped by, the gust they kicked up rushing towards them.

He instinctively stood in front of her to block the wind, turned back, and flashed her a wildly carefree smile, “If you’re scared, just call me ‘brother,’ and I’ll let you sit on my lap.”

Nan Jiaojiao tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her foot lifted; Han Qi immediately dodged to the side, “Don’t kick, I was just talking big.”

“Drive one.”

Han Qi paused for a moment, then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

He snapped his fingers to summon someone, “Bring two sets of racing gear.

Get a pink helmet for my ancestor here.”

He ordered, and soon someone brought the complete gear.

Han Qi dressed in front of her, pulling the racing suit over his sweater and forcefully stretched the collar, turning his head to see that she was still standing, her eyes slightly disdainful.

“What’s wrong, ancestor?”

“Troublesome, don’t feel like wearing it.”

Nan Jiaojiao tucked her hands into the sleeves of the leather jacket, intending to just get in the car like that.

Han Qi quickly grabbed her back and hurriedly dressed her in knee pads, elbow pads, and gloves.

“Alright, you don’t have to wear it, but you need to wear these things, they save lives.”

Nan Jiaojiao didn’t refuse, and after getting the armor on, she picked a car and got in.

“Ancestor, wait for me…”

Han Qi chased after her, his words cut off by a mouthful of dust, staring dumbfounded as the car sped away.

He cursed, “Fuck,” and quickly jumped into another car to chase after her.

Nan Jiaojiao had the car window wide open, her eyes behind the helmet dark and intense like a hawk’s, her hands steady on the steering wheel.

Even on the most narrow and tricky turns, she could swing the car around smoothly, quickly leaving Han Qi and the others behind.

After one lap, her mind felt clearer, and her mood was less stifled.

During the second lap, she began to think of Bo Yanching, her heart aching for him.

On the third lap, her speed doubled, and after getting completely in control, she lost her interest.

To her, these toys were no different from kids’ toy cars.

At the finish line, she found a parking spot and parked swiftly.

The surrounding bursts into thunderous cheers after a few seconds of silence.

Han Qi had driven two laps, finally spotting Nan Jiaojiao.

As he got out of the car, he was stopped by people, glowing with excitement, asking him, “Brother Qi, where did this deity come from?

A true deity, such impeccable driving skills.

No wonder even you have to call her ‘ancestor.’ We’d willingly call her ‘great ancestor.'”

“Get lost.”

Han Qi, carrying his helmet, strode towards Nan Jiaojiao, knocked on the window, and as it slowly rolled down, Nan Jiaojiao’s frosty face became visible.

She removed her helmet, glanced at him, her brows coldly furrowed, her face full of impatience.

“Not fun?

Or didn’t get enough fun?” Han Qi asked her, his expression suddenly turning cold: “Are you fucking trying to get yourself killed?

I specially had someone design these bends, and a moment’s carelessness could send you flying off with the car.

I brought you here to relax, not to throw your life away.

If you die, who the hell am I supposed to cry to!”