Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Master’s Driving Skills

“What guesthouse? Where we come from, this would be called a star-rated hotel. I want to share a king-size room with Wang Yining.”

The cultural differences between countries were now apparent. Mo Shu had thought that if they were staying at a guesthouse, the king-size bed would be out of the question, and simply getting a room with a private bathroom would be a blessing.

Who could have guessed that the seemingly ordinary building before him, lavishly decorated inside, was the guesthouse the German gentleman had mentioned.

After Mo Shu pestered shamelessly, he finally got his wish—a king-size room.

“Hey, where’s my Wang Yining?” Mo Shu’s eyes gleamed hungrily as he held the room card.

It turned out Wang Yining had already rushed to the elevator, ready to go upstairs. Mo Shu hurried after her, grinning and fluttering the room card at her, his eyes blinking expectantly.

“Congratulations, king-size bed,” Wang Yining sneered.

“What? Wang Yu didn’t arrange for us to be in the same room?”

“…”

It wasn’t until they went upstairs and entered their rooms that Mo Shu realized, to his shock, that his king-size room was for him alone. As for Wang Yining, she, like Wang Yu and Zhang Aimin, had her own suite.

“This is outrageous! Why must they separate these two star-crossed lovers…” Mo Shu wailed to the sky.

“You’re the one suffering; I’m perfectly happy…”

This wasn’t fun! He didn’t like sleeping alone!

Mo Shu felt the fun had vanished, his head drooping as he returned to his room, genuinely dejected as he stared at the king-size bed meant for just him.

“Knock knock knock…”

A steward noticed the door was open and knocked symbolically to alert Mo Shu.

The steward placed a bottle of wine and a pale blue card from the tray neatly on the small bar in Mo Shu’s room, then respectfully withdrew.

Mo Shu picked up the card, surprised to see a message printed on it.

“Dear Mr. Mo Shu, welcome to beautiful Stuttgart. Please accept this bottle of fine red wine as a gift for our first meeting. May you enjoy your stay!”

It was signed “Fernando Ken Russlein.”

A truly thoughtful gentleman, Mo Shu smiled, though he was not much of a wine connoisseur.

Still, it was a precious gift. Carefully placing the wine on the rack, Mo Shu grabbed his jacket from beside the bed and put it on, intending to explore the sprawling black-gold petroleum industry alone.

Although the refinery was only a kilometer away, the outdoor air still carried a faint scent of grass—clearly, German environmental technology was advanced.

Mo Shu kept his hands in his pockets, surprised by a slight chill in Stuttgart’s evening air.

As he walked, he suddenly stopped and listened intently. Was that the sound of engines?

Following the sound westward, he soon came upon a uniquely shaped, massive cylindrical building.

Wind tunnel testing center! Mo Shu was struck with awe.

How could a semi-professional internal racing team have such high-end equipment, widely used in aerospace technology?

Truth be told, Mo Shu had never seen a wind tunnel experiment in person; he had to go in and see for himself.

Unfortunately, the security at the entrance stopped him, apparently asking for credentials. The two struggled with gestures and guesses for ten minutes, finally hugging in mutual frustration, unable to communicate or proceed.

“Hey, let him in! This is a genius from China—Shu!” A robust voice called out from within.

Russlein? So it was him conducting the experiment.

Mo Shu was delighted; not only could he see inside the wind tunnel, he might witness the prowess of this master of six realms.

“Shu, can you speak English?” Russlein asked as he walked.

“Yes, I can speak a little.”

“Awesome! I watched your races in China. I greatly admire your spirit and courage in helping your teammate across the finish line!” Russlein’s English carried a heavy German accent.

“Oh… hi… thanks, yes… thank you very much.” Mo Shu was quickly overwhelmed, for the first time missing Li Xun a little.

They walked down a long corridor and arrived at the experimental site.

A full-scale wind tunnel! Although Mo Shu couldn’t read the German on the walls, the international 1:1 mark showed this place was big enough to test an airplane; cars were child’s play.

“Are you testing a new race car?” Mo Shu asked, seeing a red-and-black car parked before the tunnel.

Russlein replied humorously, “That’s confidential, not to be disclosed.”

Mo Shu nodded seriously, but Russlein burst out laughing, “We’re all friends, just kidding.”

“Want to see a real secret?” Russlein’s tone shifted, looking at Mo Shu with intrigue.

“If it’s convenient, of course!” Mo Shu was prepared; a master of six realms wouldn’t simply conduct an ordinary experiment and be done.

Russlein made a comical “watch closely” gesture, clapped his hands, and called out,

“Friends, begin phase three of the experiment!”

Clunk… clunk…

The large machinery in front of the wind tunnel automatically adjusted positions. The platform that allowed cars to drive in place descended into the ground.

In its place was a simulated gravel high-speed straight, ending in a ramp for a jump, and immediately followed by a sharp right hairpin turn.

Mo Shu rubbed his eyes in amazement.

“See the strange design atop my race car? That’s the latest lateral aerodynamic kit developed by my team and me.”

“Does it actually work?” Mo Shu was skeptical.

“For circuit racers, maybe not much, but for me—especially tailored to my driving style—this design might be very important.” Russlein spoke with precision; clearly, the design was still experimental. He then donned his helmet, ready to personally run the test.

The wind tunnel’s massive turbine blades began to spin, the wind moderate, not as wild as Mo Shu had imagined.

Meanwhile, Russlein’s car accelerated into the wind. In less than ten seconds, it reached a speed of 202 km/h.

Mo Shu understood—the wind tunnel was simulating typical natural wind speeds. In this third phase, Russlein’s car went from stationary to moving, so the wind couldn’t be too strong; after all, in real races, no committee would insist drivers compete in hurricane conditions.

Russlein’s car had already accelerated on the straight. Using the ramp, it suddenly soared high.

Unlike circuit racing, rally’s excitement often comes from those thrilling moments when cars leave the ground.

Other cars might merely bounce off such ramps, but Russlein’s absurd height could only be called a leap.

An astonishing sight unfolded in midair—the car twisted its body, drifting as if on the ground.

When it landed, it touched down precisely just before the apex of the turn; propelled by the powerful jump inertia, the car tilted into a drift, entering the corner and exiting at high speed with remarkable fluidity—truly perfect!

Mo Shu finally understood the purpose of the lateral aerodynamic kit: to stabilize the two-hundred-kilometer-an-hour drifting entry from both land and air. The world was indeed full of wonders.