Genius Club

Chapter 120: The Leap Over Donghai



BOOM!

The $700,000 Bentley Continental GT landed with a heavy thud!

Despite its advanced suspension system, the harsh impact sent a shock through Lin Xian’s tailbone. He slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel sharply, causing the car to fishtail under the intense pressure.

Screech! Screech! Screech!

Unidentified parts scraped against the concrete, sending fierce sparks flying. Lin Xian gripped the steering wheel tightly, adjusting swiftly to keep the car from flipping. Once stable, he utilized the side friction of the tires to decelerate—a technique he had mastered in his dreams over a decade; it felt almost instinctual.

Finally, the once roaring blue beast now lay silent, having skidded out a dramatic semi-circle before coming to a halt.

“Phew…”

Lin Xian exhaled deeply, his palms slightly sweaty as he released the steering wheel. He turned to check the back seat.

Empty.

The thug had clearly been ejected during the chaos. Only a crumpled bouquet of roses remained, hanging from the back door and swaying gently against the metal. The colorful wrapping was torn, and multicolored ribbons fluttered in the breeze.

Lin Xian glanced at Zhao Ying Jun. She was breathing heavily, eyes closed, clutching her chest.

“You… alright?”

Zhao Ying Jun didn’t respond immediately. Her face showed a mix of relief and disbelief, her breaths quick and shallow. After a moment, she slowly raised her head, staring at the overpass thirty meters away…

They had just soared over it.

The road was initially a spiraling downhill exit, gradually descending. But Lin Xian had propelled the Bentley up the guardrail and sound barrier of the overpass at over 200 kilometers per hour, launching them through the air.

Zhao Ying Jun’s eyes widened. She couldn’t recall the leap over the thirty-meter gap. All she remembered was the car landing with a crash and spinning wildly before stopping.

“You…” Her breathing steadied, and she bit her lower lip, turning to Lin Xian: “You said you weren’t good at driving?”

“I might have exaggerated a bit.”

“This is a bit?” She chuckled weakly, clearly not amused. “How could you? Are you crazy? Do you realize what you just did?”

“Of course, I do…” Lin Xian shifted to ease his sore tailbone and shrugged: “But we had no choice. That thug was desperate. He wasn’t going to let us go easily.”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore. I feel a bit nauseous. I need to get out and walk.” Zhao Ying Jun looked pale, clutching her chest. She tried to open the car door, but it was jammed. She turned to Lin Xian: “Open the door.”

Lin Xian attempted his door, but it wouldn’t budge. He pointed to the damaged dashboard: “Maybe something malfunctioned, or the door is damaged.”

“So how do we get out?”

“We’ll have to climb out. Luckily, it’s a convertible. That’s probably the only advantage of this car—you can never get trapped inside.”

“That’s a useful fact.” Zhao Ying Jun wiped sweat from her forehead, unbuckling her seatbelt. “You climb out first, then come over and help me.”

Getting out was easy for Lin Xian, but more challenging for Zhao Ying Jun in her evening gown. Once outside, Lin Xian felt his muscles ache, likely strained from the ordeal.

The $700,000 Bentley Continental GT was clearly a total loss, its axles shattered. He circled to the other side, helping Zhao Ying Jun over the stuck door. Glass shards littered the ground, and Lin Xian cleared a path for Zhao Ying Jun’s bare high heels.

“Where’s the thug?” Zhao Ying Jun seemed more composed after stretching her legs.

“He must have fallen off mid-air.” Lin Xian pointed to the dark forest between the two overpasses: “Probably down there.”

They examined the rear seat area, which wasn’t very spacious but larger than typical convertibles, explaining how the man managed to hide there. The parking lot was chaotic and dark, and in their rush to leave the ball, they hadn’t checked the back seat.

Now, it was empty. The thief had vanished, leaving only the crushed roses hanging on the damaged car, swaying weakly in the evening breeze—a silent testament to his escape.

“Lin Xian, call the police.”

“Got it.”

Lin Xian dialed the emergency line, providing a detailed account of the incident and their location. The police promised to arrive quickly and advised them to stay put.

The cool night breeze picked up. Zhao Ying Jun leaned against the overpass guardrail, looking at Lin Xian: “Lin Xian.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me.” Zhao Ying Jun regained her composure, looking at the wrecked Bentley: “I’ve thanked you a lot recently, but thank you again for saving my life.”

“It’s nothing. I was saving myself too.”

Zhao Ying Jun looked into Lin Xian’s eyes, the neon lights from across the river reflecting in them: “You always surprise me. These past few days, I’ve seen a different side of you, and I like it. But I can tell you’re feeling lost, like an ant caught in a whirlpool.”

She glanced down at her high heels scuffing the cold road: “You’ve been through a lot recently, and it’s weighing on you. That’s why you’re striving for success, to be extraordinary. But Lin Xian, I know how you feel. I’ve been there too. If there’s any advice I can offer, it’s this.”

She looked up, her eyes catching the moonlight and city lights, creating a dazzling effect: “Don’t chase success just to be successful. Don’t strive to be extraordinary just for the sake of it. I’ve never told anyone at the company about my family…”

Lin Xian listened quietly, standing beside her. The night breeze lifted Zhao Ying Jun’s hair, its soft strands brushing against Lin Xian’s cheek, like a fleeting touch of time.

“My parents are influential in the capital. They’ve always opposed what I do and tried to stop me many times. That’s why I came to Donghai alone. They’re waiting for me to fail. My dad thinks I’ll go back to them to fix my problems. He doesn’t believe I can succeed. But in their eyes, no success is enough. I don’t live for their approval. I do what I love because I love it, not to prove anything to them. This is what I want to tell you, Lin Xian.”

Zhao Ying Jun smiled, a rare relaxed expression since their leap: “Do what you love, something you’re willing to risk everything for, not to prove anything, but because it’s what you want. Even if you haven’t found it yet, don’t rush. You don’t have to force yourself to be extraordinary. I believe in you.”

Their eyes met, reflecting the vibrant cityscape, “You’re destined to be extraordinary.”

Lin Xian said nothing, just looked into her eyes.

“It’s nothing special,” Zhao Ying Jun laughed softly, as the flashing red and blue lights of police cars and ambulances approached from the other side of the overpass. “Just sharing some life lessons…”

Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo.

Police cars and ambulances arrived, their lights bright against the night sky. Zhao Ying Jun turned around, leaning on the guardrail, looking up at the moon.

January 14, 2023.

Eight days until the Lunar New Year.

Seven days until New Year’s Eve.

Five days until the Donghai Business Association’s New Year Gala.

An ordinary day. A day with a beautiful moon.

“Tonight’s moon is beautiful,” Zhao Ying Jun said softly.

Lin Xian stood behind her, looking at the bright moon.

“Yes,” he sighed sincerely, “this kind of moon is indeed beautiful.”

Beep beep.

His digital watch beeped twice, marking the hour. Lin Xian checked it.

00:00

He breathed a sigh of relief. Midnight had passed. It was now January 15, 2023.

Zhao Ying Jun had safely made it through January 14, past her 23rd birthday, avoiding the recorded accidental death. She might still face accidents in the future…

But for now, history had changed. She would no longer be remembered in a biography 600 years later with the words “died at 23.”

Today was the start of Zhao Ying Jun’s new destiny. And the first day of her 24th year.

Lin Xian stepped toward the wrecked Bentley, picked up the bouquet of roses left by the thug, and tidied it up.

Making the wrinkled, leafless roses look more presentable, the crooked paper and ribbons at least resembling a gift.

“Though it’s not quite appropriate, but…” Lin Xian handed the tidied bouquet to Zhao Ying Jun, smiling, “Happy birthday.”

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