Chapter Eighty-Three: Return to the Homeland

Ai Chixiang’s race car was paralyzed for at least a full minute, and his rage nearly drove him to rip the steering wheel from its column. It happened almost every time—just as victory seemed within his grasp, that Mo Shu would always pull some incomprehensible trick out of nowhere. Was this truly his destined stumbling block, the nemesis that would haunt his racing career? Ai Chixiang ground his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.

After several attempts, his car finally sputtered back to life. Ai Chixiang slapped the steering wheel in relief and rejoined the race. But what about Mo Shu? He was already approaching the finish line! Ai Chixiang realized there was no hope of turning the tide. This race would end in yet another bitter disappointment.

No, he wouldn’t let it go. As soon as he was back in the pit, he would thoroughly study Mo Shu, determined to copy whatever new skill he had just displayed. Even if this championship was lost, there were fifteen rounds ahead—plenty of chances to threaten the Divine team again.

Ironically, all those fans who had just been mocking Mo Shu online had now fallen conspicuously silent. The “Disciples of the Divine” were once more celebrating with wild abandon, flooding the chat with triumphant messages and victory emojis. Some even captured Ai Chixiang’s furious, unhinged expression, pairing the images with biting captions to ridicule all who had doubted their Mo God.

At the final stretch of the last SSS stage, the ERC’s official president and a host of high-level executives were already in position, waiting to present the trophy to the champion driver. The commentators and hosts in the live broadcast room were fans of Mo Shu themselves, and they had already begun their premature celebration.

“Congratulations to the Divine team, and congratulations to Mo Shu! They’ve once again set multiple world records in the ERC: fastest average speed, highest top speed, fastest rookie team to win a station, fastest individual to claim a station championship—the honors are too many to count. I’m so excited I can barely contain myself! Now, let’s have our special guest commentator continue with the coverage.” With that, the host placed a Divine team cap upon his head, so elated he seemed ready to abandon all professionalism.

The guest commentator looked awkwardly at the camera, then took up the thread. “After this first race, I’ve come to understand Mo Shu a bit more. He’s a contradiction—a reserved man in life, yet wild and uninhibited on the track. Such an intriguing personality makes me all the more interested in him, and the champion’s trophy he’s about to receive fills me with hope and anticipation for his future.”

“Yes! Mo Shu has won the championship!” As Mo Shu’s car crossed the finish line, the host’s emotions finally escaped control, and two streams of tears burst from his eyes.

At the award ceremony, Ai Chixiang was absent—a result Mo Shu had fully anticipated, though it brought considerable embarrassment to the Carbon Black Gold team. With the absence of that terrifying, grim-faced rival, Mo Shu found it easier to forget the many frustrations of the ERC Swiss round, and a rare, genuine smile broke across his face.

The ERC president handed the champion’s trophy to Mo Shu and announced the date for the next race in Monte Carlo, just about a week and a half away. Mo Shu clicked his tongue; the schedule was certainly tight. The Divine team’s advance party would probably set out for Monte Carlo that very night. Fortunately, European countries weren’t large, so the journey wouldn’t take long.

But Mo Shu wanted to return home first. He had asked Wang Yu well in advance to book him a flight. He longed to see his parents in Nanshan City and to visit his benefactor, Uncle Zhang Aimin. After enduring the grueling ERC race and the unexpected events with Rusline and Black Mirror, Mo Shu had so much he wished to share with his mentor.

He also couldn’t stop thinking about the vision he had once discussed with Wang Yining—if he could create an automotive event in Nanshan City, one that belonged to his own people yet welcomed teams from around the world, it would be a truly wonderful and extraordinary accomplishment. The idea had long since set his heart racing.

“Brother Mo Shu, be sure to report back to the team as soon as you can. We really need you for the reconnaissance run.” Since Mo Shu and Wang Yining had become a couple, Wang Qing no longer mentioned their relationship, but every time she saw Mo Shu, her eyes seemed to shimmer with emotion, betraying a lingering reluctance to let go.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. It won’t take long.” Mo Shu’s plan for this trip was simple: travel light, visit quickly, and return. His thoughts were never far from his teammates, and even more so, from Wang Yining, for whom every day apart felt like an eternity.

The dozen or so hours on the plane marked a rare moment of solitude for Mo Shu. Though the post-race journey was exhausting, he felt that for the sake of his cherished dreams and his passion for racing, all this hardship was nothing.

Mid-flight, Mo Shu suddenly thought of someone else—someone he almost never remembered, yet could never truly forget: Black Mirror. Once they had been fierce rivals, and now, not only had they come together on the ERC circuit, but the race had transformed them from adversaries to friends. Yet, with Black Mirror’s legs lost, this saga of brotherly rivalry seemed destined to end.

Mo Shu couldn’t help but wonder—would there ever come a day when he could find a way to bring Black Mirror back to the track? Though the racing world was still overshadowed by the Wilmin family’s machinations, compared to other fields, its reliance on speed rendered it fundamentally pure and stirring. If a genius like Black Mirror could once again compete in the very event Mo Shu hoped to organize, who was to say he couldn’t reclaim even greater glory?

But Mo Shu’s ambitions didn’t end with hosting a single event. After so many races, he had developed a complex love-hate relationship with the major manufacturers and teams—resenting their arrogance and technical barriers, yet envying their vast enterprises and deep pockets. The partnership between Black Gold Oil and Carbon Motors had once seemed unattainable.

Now, however, the situation had changed. He possessed Rusline’s “alien car” technology, as well as the game-breaking “Supreme Racing System.” A new idea took root in Mo Shu’s mind: why not build his own factory and make his own cars? That way, the Divine team would never again be at the mercy of any manufacturer.

He was confident that with the support and help of his teammates, and the backing of his former boss Zhang Aimin, this freshly born dream was no longer out of reach. Perhaps before long, their own mighty factory team would once again sweep the world.