Ming Zhi Rou's expression twisted slightly.
Soon, she lowered her gaze, her voice soft, unwilling to break her persona. "Sister… I… I don't understand what you're saying…"
"No, you do."
Ming Zheng's eyes were light and lazy, exuding a refined nobility as she looked down at Ming Zhi Rou, who was like an ant before her. "Or rather, isn't this exactly what you implied to Young Master Song?"
Ming Zhi Rou's pupils seized.
She leaned against the wall, the coldness sending shivers down her spine.
But this cold…
Was nothing compared to the chilling terror in Ming Zheng's eyes…
"I wonder what Ming Yan Lun will think when he knows you've been actively making advances to Young Master Song behind his back."
Ming Zheng nonchalantly took out her phone, her fingertips lightly dancing across the screen.
She made a show of calling Ming Yan Lun.
Ming Zhi Rou's eyes widened in panic, her face contorted in sheer terror. She lunged forward, "You can't! Ming Zheng, you bitch! If you dare tell Fifth Brother, I will absolutely not let you off!"
Her movement was swift.
After all, she was a cultivator who had managed to break through to the Houtian realm.
What right did Ming Zheng, a mere good-for-nothing, have to suppress her?
Ming Zhi Rou's face contorted into a snarl. She channeled all the spiritual energy within her body, lunging straight at Ming Zheng!
There was no one else here anyway.
She couldn't be bothered to maintain her persona in front of Ming Zheng, a soon-to-be dead person.
However…
Her attack did not elicit any trace of fear or begging for mercy from Ming Zheng's face.
Instead, that face, dazzlingly beautiful to an extreme, revealed a hint of a cold, almost mocking sneer.
"Ah!!!"
Ming Zhi Rou's hand did not even touch Ming Zheng's phone.
A piercing pain shot through her wrist.
She was in so much pain, sweat poured down her forehead.
At this moment, Ming Zhi Rou finally understood…
The powerlessness her Third Brother had felt when facing Ming Zheng.
No!
Ming Zheng was just a good-for-nothing!
How could a good-for-nothing make Third Brother unable to cope?
Even…
She, a cultivator in the Houtian realm, was utterly helpless against Ming Zheng?
Was Ming Zheng truly… just a good-for-nothing?
Ming Zhi Rou's heart was in turmoil.
A nameless dread welled up from the depths of her heart.
It made her heart pound uncontrollably, accelerating its beat.
"Bang!"
The next second, she was tossed aside like trash into a corner of the wall.
This was, after all, at the foot of the mountain.
The loose stones on the ground pricked Ming Zhi Rou as she convulsed on the ground.
Even her meticulously styled hair was disheveled and scattered.
She looked utterly disheveled.
Ming Zheng, however, casually wiped her fingers, then got into the garish purple sports car and sped away.
She didn't even spare Ming Zhi Rou a glance.
As if she had no interest in Ming Zhi Rou's pathetic state, like a stray dog.
Her demeanor was indifferent and calm.
As if she were treating a stranger.
But the more she acted like this…
The more humiliated and embarrassed Ming Zhi Rou felt.
Ming Zhi Rou, who was lying on the ground, curled up in pain, trembled slightly.
Hate!
Such hate!
She would definitely make Ming Zheng pay for the humiliation just now!
Absolutely!
Ming Zhi Rou's face twisted in a grotesque snarl.
Trembling, she staggered to her feet.
Suddenly, she heard rustling sounds.
"Hurry up! The race is about to start, and he could come to pick up the car at any moment!"
"Don't say 'any moment,' he's already here."
"Quick, quick, quick! If we fail again this time, Young Master Song will kill us!"
Then, there was a sound of tires screeching.
Ming Zhi Rou dared not move.
Soon, the noise subsided, and she dimly saw a few figures with a tool bag hurrying away.
-
Fifteen minutes before the race began.
Ming Zheng's garish purple sports car arrived at the racetrack.
A blue sports car followed closely behind.
The car door opened.
Song Zhe Kun, dressed in a professional racing suit, stepped out of the car.
He rested a hand on the car door and raised an eyebrow towards Ming Zheng.
Instantly, the entire venue erupted in cheers and applause for Song Zhe Kun.
Ming Zheng also alighted from the car.
The news of the Song family's young master racing against the Ming family's true daughter, and betting an arm, had already spread throughout Yin Yang Mountain.
Now that Young Master Song himself was personally participating in the race,
It was enough to show that Young Master Song was determined to teach the Ming family's true daughter a lesson.
Upon seeing the girl who had made the bet with Young Master Song,
The crowd couldn't help but whistle.
Had this young lady reached adulthood yet? Did she even have a driver's license?
It seemed that the outcome of tonight's race…
Was already very clear!
At this moment, the betting arena was buzzing with activity.
All bets were placed on Young Master Song and his team.
The stakes had already reached sixty million!
On the other hand, Ming Zheng's side…
Received no attention.
"True daughter, I've always been very protective of ladies. You still have a chance to regret it now." Song Zhe Kun's sinister eyes roamed over Ming Zheng.
The malice in his gaze was evident. "Serve me well tonight, and in the future… you'll have good days ahead, and you won't have to curry favor with the Ming family anymore."
Ming Zheng's eyes were cool and indifferent, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "Young Master Song is resorting to such unsavory tactics against me. Aren't you the one who should be afraid?"
Song Zhe Kun's expression stiffened, and his eyes darkened.
He naturally couldn't admit to tampering with Ming Zheng's car.
If he admitted it…
Where would he hide his face?
He spat, his eyes growing even more sinister. "I'd like to see how long you can keep up this tough talk!"
Saying that, he pulled open the car door.
Just as he was about to get in,
A gasp erupted from the crowd. "Holy shit! Someone bet a hundred million on Ming Zheng! Did they click the wrong button?"
Those playing the betting game quickly took out their electronic devices, opened their betting apps, and looked at the real-time data.
As expected.
Young Master Song, whose bet of sixty million was still climbing, had been completely overshadowed by the bets on Ming Zheng's side.
One hundred million.
A full hundred million!
"Who made that bet? Are they insane? They know that young girl is bound to lose, yet they bet a hundred million. Isn't that just throwing money away?"
"Could it be that the young lady herself placed that hundred million bet?"
"Are you stupid? That's a hundred million, not ten yuan or a hundred yuan! If she had a hundred million, would she even bother racing with Young Master Song?"
"Which idiot bet a hundred million on the young lady?"
The entire venue was in an uproar.
Everyone was discussing it animatedly.
After all, for their racing bets…
The highest peak bet, and the total bet, had only reached seventy million!
Like Song Zhe Kun's bet of sixty million today.
Excluding the fact that everyone knew he was guaranteed to win and had increased his stake,
He personally contributed at least thirty million.
This hundred million bet…
Made Song Zhe Kun freeze, his face turning ashen.
His sinister eyes glared fiercely at Ming Zheng.
Ming Zheng, however, did not look at him.
Her gaze swept across the audience seats on either side of the racetrack.
She saw Mo Qi Yu standing at the front in a prominent position, his face dark as he stared at his phone.
His fingers were flying across the screen, typing furiously.
He looked thoroughly annoyed.
Ming Zheng: "…"
It seemed it wasn't this fool.
Then, who placed the hundred million bet?