Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Going for a drive is supposed to be fun.

That was what I thought at first, too.

Until Li Xinghe drove his R8 straight onto the highway.

Yes. The highway.

Before I could properly savor the luxurious push of the engine pressing me back into my seat, the R8 was already accelerating at terrifying speed.

I watched with my own eyes as the needle shot up to 120 in the span of three short seconds. Every hair on my body stood on end, screaming to launch itself through the roof of the car, and I couldn’t help grabbing the handle and shrieking into the howling wind.

“Do you always drive this fast-st-st-”

The man beside me curved his lips. The smile was gone in an instant, but it was enough to topple a city.

“Yeah.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah-”

Because the beltway was close to the suburbs, the entire stretch of road was dim and empty. But every time we came up on a car ahead, Li Xinghe would press his lips together, slam down on the accelerator, and overtake without mercy, leaving behind only wave after wave of burning engine roar in the wind-

and wave after wave of my out-of-control screaming.

Sigh. How utterly embarrassing.

After an unforgettable half hour, it was finally over.

When I got out of the car, both my legs had gone as limp as twisted pretzels.

The man in the driver’s seat got out as well. With tender consideration, he opened the passenger door for me and even offered an arm, letting me lean on him as I half-deadly gasped for air. “Jiejie, did you have fun tonight?

“If you liked it, want to go again?”

“………”

Go again, my ass.

I had to admit, if his goal was to flirt, this behavior was clearly more effective at scaring women off.

Both physically and mentally wounded, I weakly declined his insincere invitation. After that, I sat alone on a bench in the garden for a long time, recovering. Only when the night wind had chilled me all over did I slowly come back to myself.

Not far away, a swath of snow-white fabric drifted through the silent, desolate night. Its movements were ghostly, landing without a sound, and it scared me so badly I nearly screamed.

The figure moved, and a familiar voice came from it.

“It’s me.”

“What are you doing, dressing up like a ghost in the middle of the night?”

At that moment, Li Xinglan was wearing a white shirt and black pants, standing beneath the pitch-black doorway. He really was frightening. In the face of my irritated scolding, he did not respond, merely inclined his head coldly at me.

“You went out with Xinghe?”

“Mm-hmm.”

After a long silence, he adjusted his glasses, his eyes glinting with a cool light beneath the lenses. “If you choose Li Xinghe, I won’t stop you. But I do feel the need to remind you that when his personality is reflected in art, it becomes an extremely acute and superior sense of aesthetics. But in daily life…”

“It is a kind of pathological sensitivity.”

“Pathological?”

That word was already vicious enough. It was basically no different from outright saying he was sick.

Without noticing my expression darken, Li Xinglan handed me a book. “You can read this. Afterward, you’ll have a better understanding of this type of person.”

Noncommittal, I took the book. By the moonlight, the title was clearly visible.

On Highly Sensitive People

Author: Pearl S. Buck

Unable to tell whether he meant well or was being malicious, I accepted the book.