"Alright."

Zhou Yang slowly wiped his hands. "All the money I win is mine?"

Du Zhe's eyes lit up when he heard there was hope, and he nodded like a chick pecking at rice.

"It's all yours! All yours! As long as I can beat that bastard and vent my anger, I don't want a single penny! You're my master!"

Zhou Yang clicked his tongue, thinking to himself that he hadn't lost out by taking on this cheap apprentice.

When Xu Yao learned that Zhou Yang was going to race cars, her eyebrows furrowed immediately. She grabbed his arm, her voice full of worry.

"Zhou Yang, speeding is too dangerous! What if..."

Zhou Yang took her small hand in his own, feeling its softness and warmth, and smiled confidently: "Don't worry, Yao Yao."

"My physical abilities are so good that I could easily drive a fighter jet, let alone race a car. That Chen Lun is no match for me."

His body has been enhanced multiple times by the system, and his reaction speed, dynamic vision, and physical coordination are far beyond those of ordinary people. Driving a car is simply a matter of overwhelming him.

Looking at Zhou Yang's confident eyes, Xu Yao's worries lessened slightly, but she still couldn't help scratching her head.

"Then you must be careful, safety first."

"Yes, sir!"

Zhou Yang gave a funny salute.

Night falls and the city lights come on.

In the western suburbs of Jindu, an abandoned industrial area is now brightly lit, with the roar of engines echoing everywhere, resembling a temporary underground racetrack.

When Zhou Yang and Xu Yao arrived in Du Zhe's Rolls-Royce Phantom, a number of wealthy young men and hot girls had already gathered at the sidelines to watch the spectacle.

Du Zhe had already made arrangements; a black Bugatti Veyron Super Sport, like a beast poised to pounce, was quietly parked beside the starting line.

Several young men dressed in a smart outfit surrounded the car. When they saw Du Zhe and Zhou Yang get out, they immediately greeted them respectfully, "Brother Zhe! Master!"

Zhou Yang neither agreed nor disagreed with these titles, his gaze fixed on the distance.

On the other side, next to a McLaren Senna with an even more aggressive and exaggerated design, a tall and imposing young man was surrounded by a group of beautiful women, like a star being fawned over.

The man was wearing a well-tailored casual suit, with a limited-edition Patek Philippe on his wrist, and a faint, arrogant smile playing on his lips.

It was Chen Lun.

Zhou Yang's eyes narrowed slightly. Chen Lun's temples were bulging, his eyes were sharp, his breathing was long and steady, and his lower body was stable.

He was clearly a trained fighter, and judging by his appearance, he was quite skilled.

That's interesting.

Zhou Yang thought to himself.

Seemingly noticing Zhou Yang's gaze, Chen Lun also looked over.

When he saw Zhou Yang's calm yet all-seeing eyes, he felt a chill run down his spine.

Is this the helper that good-for-nothing Du Zhe found? He doesn't seem like a simple character.

He runs the family business in Jindu and has a keen eye; he immediately noticed the unique and composed aura emanating from Zhou Yang.

Chen Lun pushed away a glamorous woman who was clinging to him, and strode towards Zhou Yang, a highly aggressive smile playing on his lips.

"You're Zhou Yang? The reinforcements that good-for-nothing Du Zhe found?"

Zhou Yang smiled calmly: "I wouldn't call them reinforcements, they're just here to have some fun with my apprentice."

Chen Lun sized Zhou Yang up and down, his eyes scrutinizing him: "Judging from your appearance, you don't seem like a race car driver. My name is Chen Lun, from the Chen family in Beijing."

"Before we race, why don't we stretch our muscles a bit? I haven't met a decent opponent in a long time. You seem to have some training."

As soon as he said this, the surroundings fell silent, and everyone's eyes were focused on the two of them.

Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow: "Oh? A fist and foot sparring session?"

He glanced at Chen Lun with amusement. "Sure, but I'm afraid you won't be able to drive after you've warmed up."

"Ha, how arrogant!"

A flash of anger crossed Chen Lun's eyes. He had practiced his family's martial arts since childhood and rarely encountered an opponent among his peers. He had never been looked down upon like this before.

One of his lackeys immediately jumped out and pointed at Zhou Yang's nose, scolding him.

"Kid, do you know who you're talking to? Our Young Master Chen is a successor of the Bajiquan style of martial arts from Beijing! He could crush you with a single finger!"

Seeing this, Du Zhe also got angry and rolled up his sleeves, ready to step forward.

"Chen Lun! Don't be so arrogant! If you've got the guts, spar with my master! Master, beat him! Beat him hard! Let him know why flowers are so red!"

Zhou Yang waved his hand, signaling Du Zhe to calm down.

He looked at Chen Lun with a calm yet undeniably authoritative gaze: "Since Young Master Chen is so interested, let's spar a few moves."

Seeing Zhou Yang's composure, Chen Lun became even more wary, but having already spoken, he could not back down.

He snorted coldly and assumed a Bajiquan starting stance: "Then please give me your guidance!"

Before he finished speaking, Chen Lun stomped his foot and pounced on Zhou Yang like a tiger descending a mountain.

A powerful and unparalleled "mountain lean" strike slammed into Zhou Yang's chest, bringing with it a sharp gust of wind!

His move was indeed highly skilled; even three or five strong men couldn't withstand it.

However, Zhou Yang merely shifted his feet slightly, his figure gliding to the left like a ghost, perfectly avoiding Chen Lun's attack.

At the same time, his right hand transformed from a palm into fingers, striking Chen Lun's ribs with lightning speed.

Chen Lun missed his move and immediately sensed something was wrong. He quickly changed his stance, sweeping his left fist horizontally in an attempt to force Zhou Yang back.

Instead of retreating, Zhou Yang advanced, deftly parrying Chen Lun's fist with a flick of his wrist.

His other hand, however, was already like a leech, closing in on Chen Lun's center and seemingly lightly striking his chest with a palm strike.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Chen Lun felt an overwhelming, unstoppable force penetrate his body, causing a sharp pain in his chest.

He stumbled back seven or eight steps as if he had been hit by a speeding train, falling to the ground with a thud, his face turning deathly pale.

The whole process happened in the blink of an eye, a total of five moves!

Zhou Yang's moves are simple and direct, without any fancy moves, yet each move hits the mark, full of the charm of simplicity.

"You...you..."

Chen Lun clutched his chest, shocked and angry, but mostly incredulous.

His family's martial arts, which he was so proud of, were so easily defeated in front of this seemingly ordinary young man!

"Who exactly are you? This kind of technique... which school or sect did you follow?"

Zhou Yang stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent: "No sect or school, just practicing blindly."

"Just practicing blindly?" Chen Lun almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

If this is just haphazard practice, then what about all the hard training he's had since childhood?

The surroundings were deathly silent; everyone was stunned by the swift and unexpected exchange.

Du Zhe's mouth dropped open in astonishment. His master was too formidable! That was Chen Lun!

Zhou Yang glanced at Chen Lun, who was slumped on the ground, and said calmly, "Young Master Chen, are you still going to go all out?"

Chen Lun's face turned pale and then red, and the sharp pain in his chest made it almost impossible for him to speak.

But how could he back down in front of so many people?