Lan Xiping saw through the rearview mirror that not far behind their car, a van was tailing them, always maintaining the same distance.
Shen You'an said lazily, "Let's see what you're made of."
The driver was a young man, dressed very stylishly. Just how stylish? He had four or five silver rings on his ears, just looking at them made your own ears ache. His blue-gray hair was streaked with cherry blossom pink highlights, looking more vibrant than a color palette.
The young man had a rather attractive face, with bronzed skin, sharp eyebrows, and a cool demeanor. He exuded a rogue yet handsome charm—the kind girls loved most.
Upon hearing Shen You'an's words, the young man laughed heartily, moving the bangs that covered half of one eye with his right hand on the wheel. "Me, Brother Shanbao, am the undisputed number one god of racing in the circle. Who dares to race me? Isn't that just seeking death?"
