Chapter Ninety-Six: Not an Isolated Case

“Haha, brother, congratulations!” a motorsport fan greeted Mo Shu in French.

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” Mo Shu replied in English, spreading his hands.

“Oh, hello. My family lives not far from here, down the mountain. I never expected that when I came up to watch the race, I would witness the first rollover of the year with my own eyes. I’m truly lucky.” The French fan switched to English and chatted with Mo Shu in obvious excitement.

“Lucky? For me, this is a terrible day.” Mo Shu shot him a look. Was that supposed to be schadenfreude? Damn it.

Wang Yining, hearing this, also curled her lip. How could this French fan talk like that? Someone had just crashed, and he called it lucky.

Mo Shu looked at the cluster of photojournalists lifting their cameras and hammering away at the shutters with sharp clicks, and his mood darkened even further. He waved a hand and said, “Everyone, could you please let us have a little peace?”

He never imagined that this one remark to the photographers would one day cost him dearly again.

The French fan from before, seeing Mo Shu’s displeasure, spoke up once more. “Sir, you may have misunderstood. For us spectators, witnessing a thrilling and exciting race in person is indeed very lucky. Of course, that is only if we know the two of you are safe and sound. Perhaps my earlier words failed to consider your feelings, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

Those words left Mo Shu feeling awkward. Different positions, different perspectives on the race, and of course, different outcomes.

He thought he might have misunderstood this Frenchman after all.

Before Mo Shu could even apologize, the Frenchman, still brimming with enthusiasm, turned to the crowd and said, “Our village has a little tradition. If we see a driver roll over and help them out of trouble, it brings the whole village good fortune for the entire year. So, everyone, lend a hand.”

It seemed Mo Shu had completely misunderstood these French villagers. He had not expected their cheerful rush over to have been, in the end, to help him lift the car. How shameful.

“Get more people over here! This is more than just lifting it back onto the track. We need to flip it over again!” It was still that Frenchman, energetically assigning every person a place to push.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Oh, this thing is heavy!”

After everyone struggled for quite a while, the race car had only been lifted halfway. A few local French children even ran over to help, naughty as could be, and the women hurriedly pulled them back and hugged them close.

“Could the reporters lend a hand too?” the Frenchman called out again, trying to gather even more people.

“Tch. He wouldn’t even let us take photos just now. Why should I help?” one reporter said unhappily.

“Come on. If you rolled your car, you’d be panicking too. Sometimes you’ve got to think from someone else’s point of view!” The Frenchman went over to negotiate, and Mo Shu saw that he really was quick to apply what he had just learned from Mo Shu to other people.

“...”

The reporter still refused.

“Oh, forget it. Let’s help out. My daughter is a fan of Mo Shu’s, after all,” said a middle-aged man with a round face and a somewhat stout build, setting aside his earlier prejudice.

“If that’s the case, count me in too!” Another giant of a man, immensely built, handed his camera to a companion.

The Frenchman smiled. With a body like that, it would be a terrible waste not to lend a hand.

Once someone had taken the lead, more and more people stepped forward, until even the reporter who had opposed the idea earlier quietly slipped into the line.

“Everyone, let’s try again! Three... two... one... heave!”

With half again as many people, the effect was obviously very different.

Mo Shu’s race car began to creak and shift. The snow and dead leaves trapped under the chassis and tires fell away in rustling showers, drifting over people’s hair and shoulders.

A few especially mischievous leaves even floated onto the faces or into the gaping mouths of some of them, but everyone was concentrating on exerting force and did not care at all.

“Give it everything you’ve got! It’s almost over!” Wang Yining encouraged the group of men with excitement, while Mo Shu was nearly at the limit of his strength, his face flushed a deep crimson.

Crash!

Success! The race car was saved!

It really had been hard on everyone.

“Wooo!”

“Success!”

“We are incredible!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. People high-fived and bumped fists in celebration, and Mo Shu happily found himself in the middle of it all.

“Thank you, everyone! I may have been a little too emotional earlier. My apologies to all of you.” Mo Shu was usually deeply moved by scenes of united effort; his eyes grew faintly red, and he bowed deeply to the crowd.

“Hey, we’re all people of feeling! No need to be so polite!”

“Right! Hurry up and finish the race. We’re still waiting to see your next live broadcast!”

“Haha, whatever happens, our village is going to have a year of good luck!”

Looking at the people who were smiling like children, Mo Shu could not help feeling moved.

He hoped that when he reached their age, he too would still have a child’s heart, unspoiled and alive. How wonderful that would be.

But happiness was always fleeting.

Everyone soon realized that although the car had been flipped upright, it was still in the ditch.

Directly in front of the hood was a slope so steep it was almost vertical. Even a god would likely struggle to get it up there.

Even Mo Shu, who usually worked miracles, was stumped this time. At that angle, even an off-road vehicle would be useless.

“Should we try lifting the car again?” someone suggested.

Mo Shu quickly shook his head. The difficulty was far too great; the slope was far too steep.

If these people were made to lift the car into the air again and somehow carry it up that sheer incline, they might literally work themselves to death.

“We’ll have to withdraw from the race. Let’s call the official rescue crane. Only that can solve this,” Mo Shu said with a sigh, his face full of regret.

“Ah... what a pity...”

“Tsk, tsk. I thought we were finally out of the frying pan.”

The people who had just helped also looked disappointed, sighing again and again.

“Oh, there’s a car coming! Everyone, move to the side and get to a safe place!” In his gloom, Mo Shu suddenly heard an engine roar echoing through the valley, and he hurriedly called for everyone to step back and clear the way.

ERC had caused fatalities many years ago, and the spectators and reporters all knew it very well. In fact, they moved even faster than Mo Shu did.

The engine’s roar grew closer and closer, and everyone craned their necks toward the far end of the bend.

“It should be Ai Chixiang. He’s right behind us,” Mo Shu said to Wang Yining.

“Yes. Let’s just hope he doesn’t make the same mistake we did.” Although they were rivals, sworn enemies in fact, both of them would rather win the race in a proper way.

Crackle, crackle...

Everyone heard the tires rolling over the ice.

May this second car pass through safely. Everyone silently prayed.

Then the car entered the corner. It really was Ai Chixiang, and Mo Shu could already see his miserable face through the windshield.

To be fair, Ai Chixiang had not had an easy run today either; it was much the same experience as Mo Shu’s. As for the Swiss round, he was the only driver with the strength to contend with Mo Shu for the championship.

With this new rule in place, it affected his driving in exactly the same way.

“Turn through the hairpin, get on the throttle, and power up the straight!” Ai Chixiang’s co-driver was calling out the next strategy.

“Damn it! Slow down!” The co-driver noticed that the car’s sideways drift was becoming too fast.

“Slow down, slow down, slow down!” The co-driver seemed so shocked he was almost incoherent. Why wasn’t Ai Chixiang following common sense?

The problem was that he had no way of knowing. Ai Chixiang now felt as if he had drawn a hand of scattered cards, powerless and helpless.

Crash——

Crash!!!

Everyone fell silent. It seemed Ai Chixiang had not escaped this “death hairpin” either.

Help him again, then. It looked like today was going to be plenty busy. The spectators and reporters gathered around once more, and Mo Shu told Wang Yining to wait where she was while he went ahead to check the situation.

However, something rather interesting happened.

Ai Chixiang had ended up almost in the very same place as Mo Shu, but this impact actually shoved Mo Shu’s car back onto the track.

“What the hell!” Ai Chixiang roared again, slapping the steering wheel in fury.