entanglements and choices
On Saturday, November 27, 2010, the dim streetlights painted the streets a honey-colored hue as Wenqing's car pulled up at the school gates. Xiaofeng, backpack strapped to her back, trotted over, her ponytail swaying playfully in the evening breeze. Obediently, she fastened her seatbelt, spread her textbook across her lap, her pen scratching across the paper. Wenqing caught a glimpse of her profile, biting the pen—a look he loved.
On Sunday, November 28, 2010, the morning sun filtered through the gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on the sofa. Wenqing's fingers were running through Xiaofeng's hair, gently brushing through the curls. A few crumbs of toast lay scattered on the sofa, and the sweet scent of honey lingered in the air.
"Want to sleep again?" Wen Qing's voice was as soft as melted butter.
Xiaofeng shifted in his arms, nuzzling against his shirt and purring with contentment.
Wenqing raised his wrist, looked at his watch, and said, "Then take a nap. We'll be leaving at 9:30."
"What are your plans for today?"
"Today...I'm going to look at cars..."
When the words "buy you a car" popped out, Xiaofeng was like a hedgehog awakened by the morning dew. The morning light shattered into panicked stars in her eyes: "I don't want it!"
"Don't you like it?"
"That's not what I like. I like racing motorcycles."
Hearing this, Wenqing's eyes suddenly widened, and the corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably. He reached out and pulled Xiaofeng back into his arms, his voice as low as if he were petting a kitten: "That's even easier."
"I didn't ask you to buy me a racing motorcycle."
"Just do what you like and don't worry too much. Leave this matter to me, okay?" Wen Qing's voice was firm and unyielding.
Xiaofeng nodded gently. With her confirmation, Wenqing immediately made a phone call. A waiting tone echoed through the receiver, and after a moment, the line was picked up. A deep male voice, tinged with impatience, said, "Have your parents found you?"
"Found it." Wen Qing answered concisely.
"Do you have something to talk to me about? I'm busy." The other person's tone revealed the depression of being interrupted.
"Fourth Uncle, I want to buy a car."
"Just go by yourself."
"I plan to go to the store near the club," Wen Qing added, his voice rising slightly.
"You want to buy a motorcycle?" There was a hint of inquiry in the other party's voice.
"My girlfriend wants to go see it."
"I'll be there in 30 minutes."
Before Wen Qing could respond, the only sound in the receiver was a busy tone, as if the conversation had been abruptly cut off, leaving no room for argument.
Wenqing started the car, the engine's thrum gradually synchronizing with Xiaofeng's heartbeat. Her fingers tapped unconsciously on the passenger window, glancing at the navigation screen from time to time: fifty-seven minutes to the destination, forty-one minutes, twenty-nine minutes, fifteen minutes...
Wenqing pushed open the metal sliding door of the club, and Xiaofeng's pupils shrank into two dancing sparks under the searchlight.
Exposed steel beams cut diagonally into the rugged geometric space, while the racing simulator seats are covered in non-slip suede. In the center of the gym, an "Engine Sound Rhythm Trainer" transforms exhaust rumble into drum beats, while the crisp clink of dumbbells resembles the metallic symphony of pistons and connecting rods.
The tin foil packaging of the "Turbo Duck" burger was wrinkled, and the pattern of a cartoon duck holding a screw in its beak looked particularly rebellious in the greasy atmosphere.
In the modification workshop, technicians in uniform work clothes are like precision gears - some use 3D scanners to reconstruct the worn surface of the crankshaft, and some cut smooth arcs out of carbon fiber plates.
"Wow, there is such an interesting place, so cool..." Xiaofeng exclaimed excitedly.
"It's an hour's drive, is it worth it?"
"It's totally worth it," Xiaofeng nodded vigorously. "Where do we start?"
"Wait for me to call." Wen Qing took out his cell phone and was about to dial when he heard a familiar voice calling from a distance, "Wen Qing..."
They both looked in the direction of the sound. Wenqing saw who was coming and immediately put his arm around Xiaofeng's shoulders, and they both walked quickly forward to meet him.
"Fourth Uncle." Wen Qing greeted him with a smile, his tone carrying a hint of homecoming.
A warm smile broke out on Fourth Uncle's face, and he raised his chin slightly.
"Fourth Uncle, my girlfriend is Rao Xiaofeng." Wen Qing looked at Xiaofeng with stars in his eyes and introduced her to his fourth uncle.
Xiaofeng grabbed Wenqing's arm, first looked up at Wenqing, smiled sweetly, then looked at Fourth Uncle and called out sweetly, "Hello, Fourth Uncle!"
Fourth Uncle patted Wenqing's arm and said, "You have good taste." He looked at Xiaofeng again and said, "Hello, Xiaofeng! What kind of motorcycle do you like? Do you know anything about it?" After that, he led them out.
“I haven’t understood it, I’ve just experienced it.”
"Do you have a driver's license?" Fourth Uncle asked, then glanced at Xiaofeng and asked again, "Are you an adult?"
Xiaofeng nodded, and Wenqing explained, "I just turned 18 a few days ago."
"Then you need to get a driver's license first. You can only drive a motorcycle after a year. As for the car, you don't need to rush."
Fourth Uncle Jiang Tao caught a glimpse of disappointment in Xiaofeng's eyes and said, "I'll take you to the motorcycle team's training ground."
Wenqing went to buy some drinks. When he found his uncle, he was the only one standing by the sidelines. He asked in confusion, "Where's Xiaofeng?"
Fourth Uncle raised his chin again and motioned him to look at the track.
Wenqing stood at the edge of the track, clutching the milk tea he'd bought for Xiaofeng, his gaze fixed on a speeding motorcycle. The rider lowered his body, splitting the air like a bolt of black lightning. His tires screeched as he rounded the corner, yet his grip seemed glued to the road.
His mouth dropped open—the driver's clothes were clearly...
"How's it going?" Fourth Uncle patted his shoulder, and he finally came to his senses. His heart was pounding, and his palms were sweaty. The figure had disappeared around the next bend. "Xiaofeng?"
"Don't you recognize your own girlfriend?" Fourth Uncle jokingly asked.
Wenqing was completely stunned, his expression frozen, unable to speak. He had never seen Xiaofeng like this before—the roar of the engine approached from afar, and the Ducati left a trail of smoke in the sunlight before slowly coming to a stop. Fourth Uncle stepped forward and steadily helped Xiaofeng off the bike.
The moment Xiaofeng removed her helmet, a few strands of hair clung to her sweaty neck, swaying gently with her movements. Her captivating eyes curved into crescents as she gazed at Wenqing, a bright smile radiating from them. Her cheeks flushed red from the helmet, a sassy, wild, and sexy air that made Wenqing's heart skip a beat.
"It's so satisfying!" Xiaofeng's crisp exclamation was like a stone, finally waking Wenqing from her panic. He quickly took the helmet from her hand, handed her the prepared milk tea, and carefully helped her untie the protective gear. When his fingertips touched her warm skin, his heartbeat slowly calmed down.
"Do you like it?" he asked softly.
"I love it! You should try it too." Xiaofeng took a sip of milk tea, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Fourth Uncle came over and overheard their conversation. He smiled and joked, "Xiao Feng is very talented!"
"Fourth Uncle, what kind of car is this?" Wen Qing wanted to know more information.
"This model isn't suitable for Xiaofeng." Fourth Uncle waved his hand. "Maybe in April, when the batch of bikes I ordered will arrive. There's a model in the Kawasaki Ninja series that would be suitable. I'll give it to Xiaofeng then."
"Thank you, Fourth Uncle." Wenqing hurriedly thanked him.
"Why thank me? Just consider it a gift, even though it's a little late." Fourth Uncle looked at Xiaofeng, "Xiaofeng, you won't mind, right?"
Xiaofeng was flattered and didn't know what to say for a moment. She just looked up at Wenqing, then lowered her head and whispered, "Thank you, Fourth Uncle."
"You're welcome!"
At lunch, Fourth Uncle helped Xiaofeng arrange her driver's license studies and suggested that after she finished her test, she join the team for training. Xiaofeng beamed, her face wide open. But Wenqing was distracted, his mind preoccupied with Xiaofeng's image as she cornered—the wind whipping up the corners of her clothes, the curve of the car's body revealing a freshness and boldness he had never seen before.
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