Chapter 46: Ignoring the “Warning”

Having shared a hotel room with Jian Zhaowen twice without actually engaging in intimacy, Yu Zhimei wondered if he had some kind of dysfunction—except she remembered that they had done it once long ago. She knew him too well; Jian always stuck to his self-imposed rules of “safe distance,” and until she explicitly gave him permission, he would forever be bound by his own moral code. It sounded corny, but she wanted to keep this ambiguous relationship going indefinitely.

Boss Xing and Monkey Brother went out for dinner with the client, likely spending the night networking. Jian Zhaowen firmly refused to let Yu Zhimei accompany them for drinks, making an excuse to slip away after just fifteen minutes. Switching to the Ling Shuai, Yu Zhimei hadn’t decided on a destination yet and was aimlessly driving around Nanjing’s outskirts. Jian rolled down the window. The sun was setting, and the cool breeze felt refreshing.

“There’s a school nearby? Slow down so I can take a look—it’s Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics.”

Further south was a quiet villa area. Yu Zhimei took a tranquil internal road shortcut and spotted what looked like student dormitories. Jian opened the map app: “Hohai University.”

At this rate, their trip was turning into an overnight tour of Nanjing’s universities. Jian teased Yu Zhimei: “It’s only 5:30. We can find somewhere to eat and stroll around campus. The small hotels near universities are super cheap and have a certain vibe.”

“What vibe?”

Jian clicked his tongue: “The whole building is a tinderbox waiting to ignite.”

Disgusting. Yu Zhimei grimaced: “And here I thought you were a graduate of a prestigious university, yet you talk like Xiao Ma.”

“How can you compare me to him? Xiao Ma can’t go three sentences without being sleazy. I’m just indulging occasionally.” Jian cleared his throat: “By the way, your filming seems pretty interesting.”

“After enduring wind and sun for so long, it doesn’t feel special anymore. Besides, clients who pay for ads don’t cause trouble—it’s fun when things go smoothly. Most of the time, we’re just racking our brains over topics, and clients give endless revision requests, which makes us angry every day.”

“So why do you still enjoy it?”

“I love cars.”

“Do you ever feel like making these videos taints you with the sleaziness of the internet? Your scripts seem so worldly, filled with terms like ‘picking up chicks,’ ‘little sisters,’ and ‘long legs.’”

“No. Most of our audience is male—it’s impossible to avoid crude jokes. Should I act like an art-house director? My skills aren’t that high. Making educational content that brings in some income for the company is enough.”

“Hey, don’t drive so fast. Talk to me.”

“My driving mode is combat-ready—I focus only on the road, no chatting. Driving such a good car while chatting would be a waste.”

“This is just a Ling Shuai.”

“You really don’t know quality.”

“It’s not like I noticed before, but you look great in those jeans today.”

“I’m warning you—don’t try to seduce me with words. Bringing you along for work was just the boss’s idea to have you film with us. It doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you again.”

“Ignore the warning.”

“Huh?”

“When you tell programmers about a ‘warning,’ most will ignore it. It’s just a heads-up about potential issues, not an error. An error guarantees problems. But for someone like me—a high-end player—warnings and errors aren’t big deals. Besides, my engineers can handle them. So, since work is done, how about we visit a nearby city?”

“Where? Changzhou or Wuxi? Neither is as interesting as Nanjing.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just stay at a hotel—I’ll treat. Don’t overthink it. Two rooms. If I say I won’t touch you, I won’t.”

The car didn’t look new, and its paint job seemed hastily done, almost like a brush job. Sitting inside, Jian could smell the overwhelming gasoline fumes that even perfume couldn’t mask. With less than 30 centimeters between them, Jian thought he was getting the full experience of a compact car. Even slight bumps nearly caused their shoulders to collide. Yu Zhimei was playing old Utada Hikaru songs, letting the melodies drift through the car.

“How much do you love Utada Hikaru?”

“Because I didn’t understand when I was younger. Especially now, at 29 or 30, I realize how incredibly talented she was during her teenage years.”

“How can you be so cold now, acting like you have no feelings for me? We’ve been neighbors for so long, and you even confessed to me once. Why are you acting like this now?”

“Did I?”

“My senses are sharp. Ever since Douyu, you’ve been avoiding me. Things between us are more awkward than when we were just friends. When you’re uncomfortable, I get nervous too—and I even caught your instability. There’s no need for all this. We’ve moved beyond a romantic relationship. Believe me, Yu Zhimei, I’d give my life for you right now.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Should I rip out my heart and show it to you?”

Yu Zhimei paused thoughtfully for two seconds, then suddenly spoke: “Since you mentioned ignoring warnings earlier, let’s make a bet. If I can overtake that Lamborghini ahead within ten seconds, tonight I’ll take you somewhere, and you must come with me. If I fail, I’ll be your girlfriend as soon as we get out of the car.”

“Deal. What kind of junk heap is this car? Overtake a Lamborghini? You think this is F1 on a curve…”

Yu Zhimei floored the gas pedal. The car roared deafeningly, and Jian felt like the body might split apart. The vehicle swayed left and right, forcing him to grip the seatbelt tightly. The Lamborghini stayed alongside them, then gradually disappeared into the rearview mirror. Yu Zhimei eased off the gas. Jian was on the verge of tears: “What kind of car is this?”

“It’s a heavily modified Ling Shuai. The engine and exhaust system aren’t original anymore. This isn’t a Ling Shuai anymore—it’s a race car in disguise. Don’t judge it by its shabby interior; it’s the boss’s prized possession. That Lamborghini SUV may be an SUV, but this car has a racing engine under the hood. I suggest you never ignore warnings when you’re out of your depth—you’ll end up losing badly.”

Jian glared at Yu Zhimei, his eyes wide with anger: “If you drive this fast again, I’ll jump out of the car.”

“You lost. Take me somewhere. Are you coming or not?”

“Fine! I lost, didn’t I!”

The car quickly got on the highway. Though Yu Zhimei appeared calm, her words carried an undertone of excitement: “I’ve wanted to do this for years. I don’t have friends who like this kind of thing. If you hadn’t suggested it during this business trip, I’d have forgotten all about it.”

“Why does this sound so unsettling? Are you trying to get revenge on me for that time we played dominoes in the hotel?”

Ahead was an amusement park. Jian started sweating as he saw the steel arcs hanging in the air—one of Asia’s four scariest roller coasters, featuring 14 full 360-degree loops. The seats extended beyond the track, designed to rotate during operation—a so-called 4D experience. Friends had once tried to persuade him to come here, but he’d immediately refused. Yu Zhimei bought tickets, barely containing her excitement: “There won’t be many people in the night session. Who knows what scenery you’ll see with your eyes open.”

“Aren’t you afraid of detaching your retinas?”

“Are you this scared?”

The line moved faster than expected. The 4D roller coaster required all valuables to be locked in lockers, and even loose shoes weren’t allowed. Jian Zhaowen regretted his new Fear of God sneakers as he boarded the ride in just a pair of white socks. Once seated, the safety bar pressed him firmly into place, making it hard to breathe. Yu Zhimei held Jian’s hand tightly as they ascended to the highest point. The city’s night view stretched beneath them, followed by a near-90-degree vertical drop. Jian murmured weakly, “Yu Zhimei, this time I’m truly risking my life for you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jian felt himself upside down, his vision going black. The roller coaster plummeted at 200 kilometers per hour. Yu Zhimei’s screams turned into cheers, but there was no time to think about opening his eyes—everything was a blur of speed. For a full minute of weightlessness, Jian remained silent, spinning round and round with the seat. By the time they reached the final splash, which was about ten meters high, Jian stumbled off the ride and immediately ran to the restroom to vomit. Yu Zhimei waited anxiously at the locker area, then rushed to the restroom door, wishing she could barge in. When she finally saw Jian again, drool was still on his lips, and his eyes were bloodshot from vomiting.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I… I feel so dizzy…”

This didn’t seem like simple acrophobia. A frightened Yu Zhimei sped to the hospital with Jian in the car. On the way, Jian covered his ears: “Yu Zhimei, it’s just tinnitus. Let me rest in the hotel tonight—I’ll be fine by tomorrow…”

“It’s my fault for taking you on that ride. I need to make sure you’re safe…”

“It’s really nothing. This happens to me occasionally after intense physical activity. The last time was during my middle school swimming exam.”

“Don’t talk anymore. We’re almost at the hospital.”

The emergency room was bustling with patients late at night. Yu Zhimei craned her neck repeatedly outside the consultation room until their number was called. She squeezed in with Jian, worried he might be downplaying his condition. Jian was still dizzy and barely able to speak, but the experienced old doctor immediately recognized the issue. He helped Jian sit on the examination bed, tilted his head 45 degrees, and quickly laid him down with his head hanging off the edge. Jian suddenly began to exhibit nystagmus, and Yu Zhimei burst into tears. The doctor calmly reassured her: “Don’t worry—it’s benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV). This is the Dix-Hallpike test. Did you do any intense activities today?”

“The roller coaster…”

“Yes, I thought so. Repositioning treatment will fix it. You young people always chase thrills without realizing these kinds of issues can arise.”

“Doctor, will there be any long-term effects?”

“BPPV and Meniere’s disease are different. BPPV can be treated, but Meniere’s is more complicated. Reduce stress, work less overtime, and don’t push your body to its limits only to relax with extreme sports. It’s counterproductive.”

After a long night, Yu Zhimei sat on a stool in the hotel room, unable to sleep. Her phone, drained of battery from searching for medical information, lay useless. When Jian woke up, he saw her jump up abruptly and laughed. Yu Zhimei apologized over ten times, but Jian waved it off: “The repositioning is done, and I’m not dizzy anymore. Why keep apologizing?”

“It’s my fault. How could I not apologize?”

“I didn’t expect this either. But now that I know it’s not Meniere’s and the BPPV is cured, it’s a blessing in disguise.”

“You can’t justify it like that.” Yu Zhimei rubbed her face repeatedly, trying to stay alert. “Maybe you should take the high-speed train back. I don’t dare let you ride in my car again.”

“No. I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Yes, but…”

“That’s enough. What’s the use of blaming yourself? It’s not like it’s a heart attack or stroke. Instead of wasting time, let’s have breakfast and head back to Shanghai. Overtime pay cuts are expensive.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. In fact, I could probably eat the hotel’s breakfast buffet into bankruptcy. Plus, a friend told me today is the last day for Marriott’s famous noodle chef. If I don’t eat this bowl of noodles, I might actually get sick.”

“How do you know about this?”

“Platinum member perks.” Yu Zhimei stood up, her legs numb from sitting; her brain buzzed from staying awake all night. Jian pulled her onto the bed, sliding his hands out from under her like spreading out a mat. He twisted his neck to take off his clothes and prepared to shower. “Now do you believe I’d risk my life for you?”

Yu Zhimei, who had been pounding her knees absentmindedly, froze. Turning around, she saw Jian already brushing his teeth, foam covering his mouth. “It’s not some revolutionary era where bloodshed proves devotion. I’m not forcing myself on you, but anything you want me to do, I’ll gladly oblige. You haven’t slept all night, right? Take a thirty-minute nap, and I’ll wake you up.”

“Huh?”

“The chef’s noodles! If we don’t go today, we’ll never get another chance.”

Having shared a hotel room with Jian Zhaowen twice without engaging in intimacy, Yu Zhimei wondered if he had some kind of dysfunction—except she remembered that they had done it once long ago. She knew him too well; Jian always stuck to his self-imposed rules of “safe distance,” and until she explicitly gave him permission, he would forever be bound by his own moral code. It sounded corny, but she wanted to keep this ambiguous relationship going indefinitely. Wrapped in a blanket, her mind too exhausted to think, the word “okay” hovered on her lips but slowly retreated. Instead, she asked softly: “Are you really okay now?”

“Of course. But seeing how you are, I’ll drive us back. Driving after an all-nighter is asking for a car accident.”

“I’ll drive.” Yu Zhimei had already opened the door, one foot stepping outside. Jian sat up, puzzled: “Yu Zhimei, I didn’t fake being sick to force you into a romantic situation, nor am I unwilling to let you stay up all night. Why are you being so ungrateful? Besides, don’t underestimate my driving skills.”

The door closed. Yu Zhimei returned from around the corner, torn between laughter and exasperation: “It’s not about trust. It’s just that this is a modified race car. If you drive it, you’ll lose your mind.”

Jian sat in the driver’s seat while Yu Zhimei found a relatively empty cul-de-sac road. After carefully checking his ears, she agreed to let him drive for a short stretch. As soon as Jian gently pressed the accelerator, the car roared loudly. By the time he turned a corner, the rear wheels were already off the ground. Jian screamed in shock, experiencing his first unintentional drift. On the way back, Yu Zhimei kept the speed below 100 km/h on the highway, but Jian was genuinely terrified, his soul leaving his body. Once they exited the city, he fell asleep. Yu Zhimei counted the roadside billboards, silently marking key points in her mind: First, never underestimate Jian Zhaowen—he’s talented, has many friends, and radiates charisma everywhere. Second, though Jian recovered from BPPV, this counts as a debt owed to him. Third, cherish the person who’s willing to “ignore warnings” for you—even if they don’t want a romantic relationship, keeping them close as a neighbor is far better than letting them go to someone else…

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P.S.: The third segment has ended~ Chatting with everyone daily has been delightful, and updating daily hasn’t felt exhausting. Moving forward, Day and Night will enter its main storyline. The true second male lead is coming, and the second emotional thread, which has been brewing for a long time, will soon unfold. I’m excited!

Little Zhang has one request: if you enjoy reading, please leave a five-star review for The First Word . Votes and adding it to your bookshelf are also greatly appreciated. Waiting for everyone to chat today~ And see you tomorrow for the fourth segment!