Chapter Seventy-Nine: Hair Turns White Overnight

After Mo Shu called out “Senior,” he inexplicably drifted into sleep.

When he woke again, it was already dawn the next day. The room was clean and tidy, as if nothing had happened the night before.

Mo Shu twisted his back a few times; after sleeping on the floor all night, his whole body felt stiff and uncomfortable. He hadn’t changed his clothes either. Lifting his arm, he sniffed himself.

Ugh—unpleasant. It felt like he’d spent the night drunk.

He rubbed his eyes a few times, suddenly remembering not to miss the start of the race. Fortunately, the clock showed there was plenty of time before the competition began.

He rolled onto the sofa, trying to recall anything from last night.

But his memory had completely blanked out after he’d shouted “Senior.” Nothing remained in his mind but emptiness.

He tried calling out to the system girl a few times, but it was useless. Ever since the system had detected their enemy’s presence, it rarely appeared.

Mo Shu could only rub the Supreme Spirit Ring on his finger, pondering last night’s encounter that had felt so vividly real.

Guanjue—the female “Venerable” from the system world who referred to herself as “this old one”—what exactly had she done to him?

Could it be…?

Mo Shu hurriedly spat twice, his clothes still neat—how could it have been… that would be too indecent.

Though he was handsome and dashing, the other party, after all, claimed to be a higher-intelligence being from “five-dimensional space”—how could she be as mundane as a human?

“Splash…”

Mo Shu turned on the shower; the steaming water was wonderfully refreshing.

“Knock knock knock…”

The sound of someone at the door interrupted his cleaning ritual.

No doubt—it had to be Wang Yu. Having lived together so long, Mo Shu knew that Old Wang followed the same routine every day.

“Ha~ Our Mo God is up early today.” Wang Yu was both surprised and delighted; Mo Shu’s room door had never opened so quickly.

Mo Shu was bare-chested, wearing only sleep pants, a toothbrush between his lips, and both hands rubbing a towel vigorously through his wet hair.

“What’s this? Relaxing with a hot shower before the race?” Wang Yu smiled as he entered, admiring the neatly made bed.

“Old Wang, do you think I can win today?” Mo Shu tossed the towel into a corner and opened the cabinet under the sink, searching for the hairdryer.

“You… you…” Suddenly, Wang Yu stuttered, his eyes filled with astonishment.

“What do you mean, ‘you’? I’m asking what strategy I should use for today’s race.” Mo Shu was still troubled by Ai Chixiang’s “dual skills.”

“You dyed your hair without consulting me—have you considered how the fans will react?” Wang Yu finally found his voice, reproaching him.

“Dyed my hair? Old Wang, what are you talking about? Me? You think I’m your sister…”

Mo Shu bantered with Wang Yu while picking up the hairdryer, about to dry his hair, when the reflection in the mirror left him utterly speechless.

“My goodness! How did my hair turn this color?”

Staring at his “aggressive” silver-grey hair, Mo Shu struggled to accept it.

“Haha, just imagine you worried about the championship so much you turned gray overnight.” Wang Yu chuckled, grabbed his jacket, and went downstairs for breakfast.

...

“Oh wow, Mo Shu, you’re so stylish!” The first person Mo Shu encountered in the dining room was Wang Qing. As his fangirl, a few words of praise were expected, but there seemed to be a deeper meaning behind her comment.

“Gao Fei, you… sigh… impressive,” Geng Hua hesitated, using a tone as if sizing him up, worried he’d say something wrong.

“Hey, Mo God, have you changed your ‘cut for resolve’ to ‘dye for resolve’?” Most passing team members covered their mouths, snickering.

“Cough cough... cough cough cough…” The older team members could only cough as if choking.

Mo Shu felt utterly hopeless; it seemed nobody liked his gray-white hair.

If Wang Yining saw him, she’d definitely scold him. Back when Black Mirror had a head of golden hair, Wang Yining never stopped complaining to Mo Shu, once saying, “I hate guys who dye their hair most of all.”

Mo Shu timidly slipped behind Wang Yining, who was eating, and nervously tapped her shoulder with a finger. “Look… at my hair…”

Hearing Mo Shu’s voice, Wang Yining quickly put down her glass, cheeks puffed as she turned around excitedly. She never expected the lazy pig Mo Shu would be up so early today.

But—

“Pfft…”

A large splash of white liquid sprayed all over Mo Shu’s face and body.

He grabbed some tissues to wipe himself, thankful it was just milk.

“You? Copying my brother?” Wang Yining eyed Mo Shu with a strange smile.

“No, no, you… you know.” Mo Shu desperately signaled with his eyes. He couldn’t possibly tell everyone it was the system’s doing.

“You… feel sorry for my brother?” Wang Yining still didn’t get it.

“No, no, it’s this…” Mo Shu pointed to his head.

“Oh…? Worried?” Why did Wang Yining suddenly have Wang Yu’s IQ?

“Sigh, forget it. Anyway, you’re not angry, right?” Mo Shu decided to explain later when they were alone.

“I’m not. It looks good,” Wang Yining replied crisply, evidently not just trying to comfort him.

“That’s not like you. Didn’t you say you hate men who dye their hair?” Mo Shu remembered her words about the golden hair vividly.

“Hmm…” Wang Yining looked up, thought for a moment, and smiled gently. “Because you’re my man.”

Mo Shu’s heart trembled at her words. It was as if he’d made up his mind about something, nodding firmly. The disappointment in his eyes transformed into confidence.

Look at my wife…

So assertive! So protective!

Let them laugh! Let them be jealous!

I, Mo Shu, will walk my own path—leave others with none!

But reality was cruel...

When Mo Shu arrived at the race site, everyone who saw his hair color exchanged whispers and burst into laughter, leaving him flustered.

Voices of judgment rose and fell—few were complimentary, most quietly disparaging.

“He must be worried about not beating Driver A, his hair’s gone white with anxiety.”

“Is it that serious? It’s just the first stage. There are sixteen stages this year; results won’t be clear so soon.”

“I thought he was unbeatable. Who’d have guessed, after losing yesterday, he’d end up like this today.”

“Such a petty person, too competitive, can’t handle losing. What a shame.”

“Don’t say that. I think the gray-white looks nice—just doesn’t really suit Eastern skin tones.”

That was the only not-so-unpleasant comment Mo Shu heard. He quickly looked up to express his gratitude, only to find the woman had silver hair herself.

Sigh… tragic—worst of all, it made him look older! Mo Shu lamented.

System, Guanjue, Supreme Spirit Ring—is this the kind of surprise you bring me? Really not cool!

Who would have thought things could get even worse?

Yesterday’s poor results had broken his heart, but today, Mo Shu was assigned one of the front starting positions; when the order was announced, he nearly coughed up blood.

Was the ERC official doing this on purpose?

If his results were good, he started in order; if bad, he started in reverse. Were they trying to mess with him?

Nothing could be done—they were the officials, after all. Mo Shu and Wang Yining said nothing and drove into the starting area.

Yesterday he was fifth from last; today, fifth to start. At least he wasn’t the “sweeper car”—he’d just have to give it a try.

The red light lit up, and Mo Shu’s start was decent.

Wang Yining’s condition had improved as well. Though Mo Shu didn’t require her to read the pace notes, whenever they reached a crucial corner, she’d at least say a few words about the road.

His sense of speed seemed to return, and Mo Shu began to find his rhythm in the race.

“Whoosh…”

Before long, Mo Shu overtook the fourth starter.

“Whoosh, whoosh…”

A bit later, both the third and second starters were left behind.

Since today’s SS stage wasn’t televised, spectators at the start and finish had no idea how Mo Shu was performing on the course.

But the race officials in the helicopters, responsible for supervision and rescue, were dumbfounded.

Who was this driver? In a long-distance rally, overtaking is normal, but how could someone manage it in the short-stage ERC rally? Was he about to defy the odds?