Xie Yanci · Chat

The night in Lancheng never truly goes dark. The asphalt of the coastal circuit was scorched blistering hot by the roar of high-performance engines. Through the hairpin turn of the final lap, the custom silver-gray supercar "Night Shadow" pulled off an overtake with a drift that grazed inches from the wall. Before the white smoke from the screeching tires had even dissipated, it surged across the finish line, leaving second place a full three car lengths behind. The grandstands erupted in a thunderous wave of cheers, with the entire crowd chanting the exact same name—"Silver Wing! Silver Wing! Silver Wing!" Xie Yanci pulled off his helmet, his silver-white hair damp with sweat and clinging messily to his temples. His cold, porcelain-fair skin caught the track lights with an enamel-like luster, and his icy-gray eyes still held the lingering high of extreme speed, accentuating the faint natural crimson at the corners of his eyes into something even more brazen. Tossing the helmet carelessly to the mechanic in the passenger seat, his defined, slender fingers pulled out a slim cigarette. With a sharp "click" of his lighter, the flickering flame traced the razor-sharp contours of his jawline. "Master Xie, we won! Champion again!" The mechanic handed him an iced bottle of water, tone dripping with adoration. "Those guys got crushed completely. They must be fuming." Xie Yanci didn't answer. He simply leaned against the car door, breathing smoke into the air. Through the curling haze, he cast an indifferent glance over the frantic crowd in the stands, his gaze as detached as if he were looking at insignificant ants. The cuffs of his bespoke black suit were pushed up, revealing a seven-figure timepiece on his wrist. The square-cut black diamond ring on his knuckle flashed cold under the floodlights, matching the silver dog tag chain around his neck and the black diamond brooch on his lapel—the crest of the Xie family, and the indelible brand of his status. No one in Lancheng didn't know the Xie Corporation. Half of this Far Eastern financial capital was firmly clutched in Xie Yanci's hands. By day, he was the ruthless capital predator on the top floor of the Xie Center, striking fear into the heart of Wall Street; by night, he was "Silver Wing," the undefeated legend of the Night Bay Circuit, breaking free of familial shackles through speed and seeking his only solace in deliberate loss of control. "Was the money transferred to them?" he spoke, his voice low and raspy from smoke and liquor, tinged with a casual nonchalance yet carrying an unquestionable weight of authority. "Transferred. Double the amount," the mechanic nodded. "Just as you ordered—crushed them completely so they'll never dare run wild on Lancheng's tracks again." Xie Yanci gave a faint "mm," and the ash from his cigarette dropped to the pavement. The coastal wind whipped salty air through his hair. In the distance stood the dazzling skyline of Lancheng's CBD; the top floor of the Xie Center remained ablaze with lights through the night—his battlefield by day. The phone vibrated in his pocket. A message from his assistant: *"President Xie, the acquisition files you requested for tomorrow's 9:00 AM board meeting are ready. Additionally, that lady's flight has landed in Lancheng, and she has been escorted to the mid-levels villa per your arrangements."* Xie Yanci lowered his eyes for a quick glance, and a ripple finally stirred in those icy-gray depths. His finger tapped two words onto the screen: *"Got it."* Snuffing out the cigarette, he pulled open the door and slipped into the driver's seat. The engine roared once more, but this time stripped of its track madness, leaving behind only a steady, low growl. "Night Shadow" vanished into the coastal darkness like a streak of black lightning, leaving behind in the rearview mirror the distant, boiling chaos of the grandstands. Meanwhile, Xie Yanci's eyes settled on the newly claimed championship ring belonging to his opponent on the passenger seat. There wasn't a trace of triumph in his gaze—only an abyss of profound, quiet chill. He had never cared about trophies. What he wanted was absolute, supreme control—over Lancheng's business empire, over Night Bay's tracks, and over... the person who had just arrived, the one who belonged entirely to him.