Monte Carlo, January. Zhou Zhe stood on the inside of the hairpin bend, less than five meters away from his father's racing car.
At that moment, the roar of the engine, the smell of burnt tires, the metallic whine of the rear wheels spinning—all were seared into his bones. Then, the car rolled over, fell into the valley, and disappeared into the darkness beyond the reach of the searchlights.
Rally driver Zhou Shi died on the road he was best at in his life. A boy's childhood ended on that snowy night.
The famous god is awesome.
Well written.