"Exactly, Anning, the car still makes a huge difference." Seeing someone speak up, another guy chimed in.
The rest muttered, clearly unconvinced.
"Had enough? Then go buy a 918 like he did. Besides, is Qi Yuan's skill worse than mine? Yet he still got left in the dust. If it were you in that seat, could you even drift through the chicane? Admitting someone else's excellence is basic if you want to get anywhere in life; otherwise the road only narrows."
With that, Han Anning spun around in irritation and stalked off.
She'd never liked these simps, and their petty minds annoyed her even more now.
After Han Anning flung her parting shot and left, the young men behind her opened their mouths but found no words, shame creeping across their faces.
They knew she was right—just being able to afford a 918 put the guy in a league they couldn't touch.
And none of them could pull off a chicane drift anyway.
They weren't brain-dead rich kids; jealousy had simply clouded their heads for a moment.
Han Anning's words sobered them up completely.
Their expressions shifted back to flattering smiles as they headed toward the assembly point.
When Jiang Cheng returned to the stands, Qiao Yinyin dashed over and hugged him excitedly.
"Honey, you were amazing! You have no idea how pumped I got watching you."
Jiang Cheng pecked her flushed cheek and whispered, "Thrilled, huh? So… how's your sister doing?"
At that, Qiao Yinyin squeaked, face scarlet, and slipped out of his arms.
He had good reason to ask—every time Qiao Yinyin got excited, it turned into a carbonated-spray show.
She was a fizzy-drink kind of girl.
Like Coke or Sprite: shake hard, pop the cap, and boom—eruption.
It was the first time in Jiang Cheng's life he'd witnessed the spectacle.
Which was why his patience with her was sky-high.
Very few guys would turn down that kind of fun.
Wang Congcong stepped up, offering a high-five. "Nice driving. Too bad I'm not into street racing. Hey, you game at all?"
"You mean the one where you stream yourself yelling, 'Lin Xin, cover me, you mother******!'—that game?" Jiang Cheng teased.
Everyone knew Wang Congcong loved PUBG and League of Legends.
He'd even founded a team that won the world championship back in 2018.
Jiang Cheng had stayed up to watch their victory in his past life, though he'd never been great at the game itself.
Online clips showed Wang cursing out celebrity teammates the instant they slipped up.
Wang Congcong only laughed. "Not that one. And I'd never yell at you—you're not them."
"I'm not great at it. I mostly play mobile games; when I do hop on, I hire Streamers to camp the bushes for me," Jiang Cheng admitted.
Wang Congcong grinned. "No worries, we'll duo sometime. I'll have my squad play bush-dogs for you—guaranteed fun."
"Heh, deal. Honestly, I've got high hopes for your team."
"You actually know my team?" Wang asked, surprised.
Jiang Cheng nodded. "A bit. I'm lousy at gaming, but I keep tabs on the scene."
Finding shared ground, Wang Congcong grew animated. "What do you think of my esports project? Public opinion's mixed, and while I don't really care, we've hit a wall—local talent's mediocre, and foreign stars are nearly impossible to poach."
Everyone knew that in the 2016 LPL Spring Split, iG reached the playoffs.
They were knocked out 0-3 by Snake in the quarterfinals.
That summer, iG kept swapping bot-laners and barely scraped into the postseason again.
They fell 0-3 to IM in the first round, still quarterfinals.
Later, at the 2016 National Electronic Sports Tournament, iG beat LGD 2-0 and took the title.
Decent results, but still a long way from a world championship.