Chapter Twenty-Seven: Extreme Overtaking (Third Update—Vote Requested)

Xiao Cheng gazed at the two cars ahead, a cold sneer curling at his lips. He had to admit, in such a situation, anyone else would find it impossible to break through. But by sheer coincidence, the one caught in this predicament was himself. Facing this blockade, he had three ways to overtake them.

The first was the most forceful: destroy the two cars. The second, slip through sideways. The third, overtake at the next bend. He chose the third—the most moderate approach, unlikely to attract undue attention.

On a straight track, two cars could run side by side, but not in a curve. At a bend, he’d have his chance to pass. Of course, anyone who’s ever driven knows that overtaking on a curve is extremely dangerous, especially at high speeds. Even a minor slip could send one off the track or even flip the car, ending in disaster.

That’s in ordinary circumstances. But this was a race, and each driver was nearly as skilled as the next. They maintained their speed at the very edge of what the curve allowed—just below the threshold for flipping or flying off the course. To overtake, one would have to surpass that critical speed, risking a rollover.

Yet, why was Xiao Cheng willing to attempt it? A man of the mountains always has his own tricks.

He kept tailing the two cars, maintaining a ten-meter distance. Suddenly, the two drivers stretched their hands out the windows, making a thumbs-down gesture of contempt. Xiao Cheng merely curled his lip and paid it no mind. With his temperament, such petty provocations weren’t worth his anger.

Inside the Bentley, Qiao Yifeng watched the Lamborghini in his rearview mirror, a mocking smile on his lips as he muttered, “You think you’re so great? Come on, try to pass us if you dare!”

At that moment, his phone rang. He quickly answered, and Tang Qianfan’s voice came through: “How’s the matter I assigned you?”

“No problem. Huzi and I have boxed him in. There’s no way he’s getting past us—rest easy, Young Master Tang!” Qiao Yifeng promised earnestly.

“By the way, I heard you scored a stunning beauty recently. Bring her over for me to enjoy sometime,” Tang Qianfan said with a laugh, though his tone left no room for negotiation.

Qiao Yifeng’s expression darkened. He hadn’t expected even Tang Qianfan to know about that. But Xiao Cheng had ruined his plans last time, and he’d failed completely.

Not only had he failed, but he’d nearly gotten himself in trouble after he got home, thanks to the drug Xiao Cheng had slipped him that night. He’d barely been conscious and almost ended up doing something unforgivable to his own sister.

“I didn’t succeed last time.”

...

The road from the She Mountain Clock Tower to the Catholic Church was nearly a straight line, with no major bends. Xiao Cheng hadn’t had a chance to overtake, but he wasn’t anxious. After the church came nine harrowing curves—just passing on any one of them would do.

As the slope grew steeper, the two cars ahead gradually slowed down. They were approaching the “Jesus Falls Three Times,” a series of three consecutive, treacherous bends, each with a minimum curve of 270 degrees. Speeds could not exceed 150 kilometers per hour, or a rollover—or worse—was certain.

Just as Xiao Cheng anticipated, the two cars slowly opened up a gap, offsetting by one car’s length, preparing to take the bends in turn.

Inside, Qiao Yifeng didn’t believe Xiao Cheng could squeeze through such a narrow space. And if he tried to overtake, his speed would have to be higher than theirs, which meant he’d surely flip or fly off the track—either outcome was exactly what he wanted to see.

Xiao Cheng had been waiting for this moment. Suddenly, he floored the accelerator. The speedometer needle shot up, reaching two hundred kilometers per hour in an instant. Zhuo Qinglian, watching the rapidly climbing speed, felt her heart pounding—this was sheer madness.

“Slow down! There’s a big curve ahead—I’m still young, you know!” Zhuo Qinglian thought Xiao Cheng hadn’t noticed the bend and kindly reminded him.

“Don’t worry!” Xiao Cheng flashed her a reassuring smile, his foot never easing off the gas until the speedometer hit its three-hundred-kilometer peak. Only then did he slowly let up.

“You lunatic! Slow down!” Zhuo Qinglian scolded with a laugh, gripping her seatbelt tightly. At this speed, a rollover seemed inevitable. She didn’t believe Xiao Cheng had some miraculous skill.

He paid her no mind. As he accelerated, he closed in on the two cars ahead, expertly slipping into the gap between them.

Seeing this, Zhuo Qinglian’s heart leapt to her throat. With the bend so close, it was too late to slow down.

In the Bentley, Qiao Yifeng, maintaining his speed, saw through his rearview that Xiao Cheng had inserted himself between the two cars. He snickered—Xiao Cheng, as always, was just a reckless fool with a little skill.

At this speed, Xiao Cheng might overtake him, but with the bend so close, the centrifugal force would be enormous. If he tried to turn, he’d surely flip.

Xiao Cheng ignored what others thought. As he slipped between the two cars, he eased off the gas just slightly, maintaining about 220 kilometers per hour. Zhuo Qinglian’s face paled at the speed. Even as an experienced street racer, she found Xiao Cheng’s recklessness hard to stomach—no, this was more than reckless, it was courting death.

“Slow down, now! Slow down!” she urged.

“Don’t worry! Haha!” It was the first time Xiao Cheng had seen Zhuo Qinglian look so genuinely frightened.

At this moment, Qiao Yifeng was on the outer lane, Xiao Cheng on the inner, with the other car also in the inner lane. With his speed, Xiao Cheng gradually pulled ahead of Qiao Yifeng as the nearly three-hundred-degree bend came into view.

Without slowing, Xiao Cheng charged straight in.

Zhuo Qinglian clung tightly to her seatbelt, praying the airbags would work. In the car beside them, Qiao Yifeng’s laughter grew wild.

As the bend loomed, Xiao Cheng silently recited an incantation, forming a hand seal with his left hand. Instantly, he felt his body become several times heavier.

This was a rarely used earth spell—“Mount Tai Presses Down”—usually paired with the Earth Escape technique. By using both together, one could sink into the ground.

When mastered, this art could increase one’s weight by hundreds of times. Xiao Cheng’s current energy only allowed him to multiply his weight a few times, but that was enough. As his weight increased, the Lamborghini’s left side suddenly dipped.

It was a leftward curve, and he was on the left side; the extra weight held the car down, preventing a rollover, and increased the car’s grip, stopping it from drifting out due to centrifugal force.

In the darkness, the deep yellow Lamborghini traced a beautiful arc, passing through a three-hundred-degree curve at over two hundred kilometers per hour, steady as could be—a feat so miraculous it seemed impossible. Yet Xiao Cheng had done it.

Zhuo Qinglian stared at him in disbelief, seeing a stranger at the wheel. When had Xiao Cheng become capable of this? It was a miracle—not even world-class racers could manage such a thing. It defied all reason.

Qiao Yifeng, who had been so smug, was frozen with shock, his eyes wide and his smile stiff. He had never imagined someone could take such a curve at that speed.

“Impossible!”

But regardless of what others thought, Xiao Cheng had done it.

The secret was simple, really—just adding weight to keep the car from flipping. But only he could do it; the Five Elements Escape Arts had been lost for centuries. Only by inheriting the jade slip had he gained such skills.

“You scoundrel, how did you do that? You scared your big sister half to death! You’d better make it up to me,” Zhuo Qinglian huffed.

After all, she was the infamous Black Widow of the underworld—she’d seen all kinds of things and was not easily shaken. She was aware of certain supernatural abilities, so though astonished, she quickly regained her composure.

At first, she hadn’t believed Xiao Cheng could win the race, but now, she was truly looking forward to his performance. Perhaps he really could turn the tables.

Still, she wondered—was this really the Xiao Cheng she’d known for six years? In her mind, he’d always been a scoundrel with no redeeming skills, but today, he’d opened her eyes. His driving was extraordinary.

“Want to know how? I’ll let you experience it yourself in a bit!” Xiao Cheng replied mysteriously.

“Mount Tai Presses Down” could be cast on others with lower cultivation than the caster. Although Zhuo Qinglian was stronger than him, she wasn’t a cultivator, so the spell would still work—though not as effectively as on himself.

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[Third chapter update—please vote! Xiaodao will be writing all day Saturday. Support is much appreciated!]