Chapter 38: The Second-Generation Circle
“Mr. Zhuang, here is your new car. Please inspect it!”
Zhuang Chen gazed at the blazing red, striking LaFerrari before him. It truly lived up to its name as the limited-edition Red Demon—utterly dazzling!
“LaFerrari appears larger than the Enzo, but their dimensions are nearly identical. This one, however, is lighter—the new car weighs just 1,255 kilograms…”
“It’s the first model to feature a hybrid power system, incorporating numerous F1 racing technologies. It boasts a 6.3L naturally aspirated V12 engine with 788 horsepower, and the electric motor adds another 161, bringing the total output to 949 horsepower…”
“From the front and side, you’ll notice the aggressively descending nose cone design, which makes the lines even sharper. If all the wings and diffusers are working at full capacity, its theoretical top speed can reach 322 kph.”
The sales director looked at Zhuang Chen with pride, saying, “In other words, this car generates immense aerodynamic downforce—even capable of driving upside down!”
“Choosing this car is a testament to your discerning taste!”
“Only 499 units exist worldwide—rarer even than the F40. If you can, cherish it.”
Zhuang Chen nodded. The paperwork had already been completed, and after swiping his card for 26 million, he moved to the dedicated test track. Under the personal guidance of an expert for over two hours, he finally took the car onto the road.
Xia Hu sat in the passenger seat, while Xia Long followed in the Bentley behind. Zhuang Chen was a bit nervous—it was his first time driving a supercar, and he was unfamiliar with many features. He carefully controlled the accelerator, constantly watching the road.
Fortunately, it was the capital city, and traffic was as dependable as ever—stop-and-go, but the globally limited LaFerrari never exceeded sixty miles per hour. Amidst the streams of cars, he caught frequent glimpses of admiration, envy, and resentment; at red lights, drivers beside him even snapped photos with their phones.
Zhuang Chen wore sunglasses, feeling thoroughly pleased. You get what you pay for—Ferrari is simply magnificent!
He drove home and parked in the garage. Now he owned a Bentley and a LaFerrari, with one space still empty. The Bentley was comfortable; the supercar thrilling. All he needed now was a domineering off-road vehicle—he’d find a chance to get one.
He took out his phone. Wang Kuan’s social media announced a gathering this afternoon at Jinhai Racetrack; SCC members were expected to attend if they were in the capital.
Zhuang Chen smiled faintly. It was time to make an impression. He messaged to confirm the time and place, ready to show that kid what real guts looked like!
Suddenly, he remembered something. He had the luxury car, but what about the beautiful companion? Two bodyguards in black hardly fit the image…
He pondered for a moment, then dialed Song Qiao. The other party was delighted to hear from him, and upon learning he needed a car model, immediately sent over a portfolio—slender and curvy, with plenty to choose from.
“So many!”
Zhuang Chen looked through a roster of over a hundred names—all professional car models, all with barefaced photos in three-piece swimsuits, their figures fully displayed.
Gazing at the array of beauties, especially noting their regular blood tests and health checks, he had to admit the industry was specialized. He selected a girl named Kiki—innocent, adorable, long-legged, and—her chest, especially formidable!
Perhaps due to a lack of maternal affection growing up, Zhuang Chen had no interest in skinny types; voluptuous women were his favorite. He called back and arranged a meeting for two in the afternoon—thirty thousand for the day.
The saying goes: when men have money, they stray; when women stray, they get money.
With nothing to do, he practiced driving around the neighborhood, so he wouldn’t embarrass himself later. Xia Hu coached him, and gradually he got used to it, finally feeling the thrill of the supercar.
In the afternoon, he set out, driving the LaFerrari himself, with Xia Long and Xia Hu following in the Bentley. They picked up the car model en route and arrived at the designated location.
“Wow, you’re driving the legendary Ferrari LaFerrari!”
“Only 499 units worldwide—no more than twenty in the country!”
“How much is it new…? Twenty-two and a half million?”
“Second-hand prices have soared to forty-two million… Even with money, you might not get one!”
Zhuang Chen watched as Kiki, energized as if she’d just had a shot of adrenaline, looked even fresher and cuter than her photos thanks to her makeup. Eight heads tall, long legs, and her chest—at least a D+.
The girl gently caressed the leather sports seat, then discreetly took out her phone, whispering to Zhuang Chen, “Handsome, can I take a few pictures?”
Zhuang Chen was surprised. “You like cars that much? Are you really a car model?”
“Of course!” Kiki pouted, puffing her cheeks and widening her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Though I haven’t represented Ferrari or Lamborghini, I’m still considered a top car model in the country. I’ve been on stage for Mercedes, BMW, Porsche, and many others…”
“Supercar brands never use domestic models—they always hire foreigners. I don’t see the appeal, just because their noses are a bit higher?”
The more Kiki spoke, the more passionate she became. Afraid Zhuang Chen wouldn’t believe her, she opened her phone and played a video. “Don’t believe me? Here’s last month’s auto show in the capital—see if I was at the BMW booth!”
The light turned red, so Zhuang Chen glanced at her screen. Sure enough, she was standing glamorously next to a BMW X6, surrounded by spectators snapping photos. He mused privately, “Song Qiao really plays this game seriously!”
Kiki finally calmed down, gazing at Zhuang Chen with a pitiful expression and sweetly asked, “Handsome, I still don’t know your name?”
“Zhuang? Brother Zhuang, it’s just that this is my first time seeing such an expensive supercar, so I’m a little excited. You’re really handsome—are you a CEO?”
Zhuang Chen chuckled. She was cheerful, as long as she didn’t act out. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the Bentley closely following, he said, “We’re heading to a supercar gathering. Just follow my lead and say little.”
“Supercar club?” Kiki’s eyes widened, gripping Zhuang Chen’s hand on the steering wheel in excitement. “Is it the legendary SCC?”
When Zhuang Chen frowned, she quickly let go and pleaded, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll calm down, immediately!”
She slapped her face and muttered something under her breath. Zhuang Chen couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head and focusing on driving. They reached the agreed destination—Jinhai Racetrack, one of the capital’s four professional circuits.
Arriving at the parking lot, they saw rows of supercars—the “worst” was a Porsche, along with two Ferrari 488s, a Lamborghini, and an Aston Martin One77. Many people gathered, smoking and chatting.
“Wow, am I seeing things?”
“No way, LaFerrari—is this for real?”
“Impressive—whose car is it?”
Zhuang Chen parked. Instantly, people surrounded him, none familiar. He could only call Wang Kuan to come out and greet him.
“Brother Zhuang?”
“You got a LaFerrari in less than three days?”
“Awesome!”
Wang Kuan watched Zhuang Chen emerge from the driver’s seat, accompanied by a stunning beauty and followed by bodyguards. He gave a thumbs-up and said, “I admit defeat—you’re the real tough guy!”
Surrounded by admirers, they circled the LaFerrari several times. Wang Kuan slid into the driver’s seat, stroking the steering wheel in fascination. “Damn, the strongest Ferrari—only 499 worldwide, worth over forty million!”
Standing by Zhuang Chen’s side, Kiki tightly hugged his muscular arm, basking in the attention, feeling both nervous and excited. This was the capital’s most exclusive supercar club—SCC!
“Brother Kuan, this gentleman’s new to us!”
“That’s right—aren’t you going to introduce him?”
“Yeah, SCC’s first LaFerrari—our dazzling treasure.”
Wang Kuan snapped back to reality, quickly stepped forward, and clapped his hands loudly. “This is Brother Zhuang, a senior member of Chang’an, a tycoon worth billions!”
“He often invests abroad and has just returned. In three days, he snagged this gem. He’s my brother—how about joining us at SCC?”
“Great, Brother Zhuang is mighty!”
“A senior member under Sister Chen? That’s incredible!”
“Haha, SCC just got another champion—let’s crush those knockoff losers from Shanghai!”
Wang Kuan hugged Zhuang Chen’s shoulders affectionately and whispered, “These are small fry—just socialize a bit. I’ll introduce you to the real friends soon.”
Zhuang Chen nodded, exchanged a few words, then tossed the keys to Xia Hu for the crowd to admire. He followed Wang Kuan into the VIP lounge, where five or six people sat smoking, each accompanied by a long-legged beauty.
“Guys, this is Brother Zhuang—a successful powerhouse. Let’s get acquainted.”
Wang Kuan pointed to a blond-haired man. “Li Fu, nicknamed Cola, one of the club’s original founders. He built his fortune from scratch, contracted the National Games venues—he’s the most inspirational among us.”
“FFF Song Yang and FFF Little Fatty—cousins, known as the Tangshan Crew. Their family runs a steel mill, and now they own a company specializing in supercars.”
“All SCC cars worth over ten million are theirs. Don’t let Song Yang’s burly looks fool you—he’s a connoisseur of fine watches. His limited-edition Vacheron Constantin collection could buy ten Lamborghinis!”
“That braggart over there is Prince Ting, Aston Martin’s chief distributor. He just spent forty-seven million on a One77. His family deals in gold, and he’s got connections—whenever we need help, we turn to him.”
“The weathered face belongs to Old Tan—a rich heir from the south who plays in private equity. He’s amiable, especially toward women. He changes models at least seven or eight times a month and loves to flaunt it, right?”
“One more—Brother Quan, a true aristocrat. He’s usually busy, but he’s loyal and helpful. All good friends.”
Everyone stood and greeted Zhuang Chen, then sat down. Old Tan casually asked, “Brother, you seem impressive—do you have connections in Europe?”
Zhuang Chen crossed his legs, lit a cigarette, and replied nonchalantly, “Pretty good. Mainly invested in a few companies—have some minor shares.”
“Move over, make room!” The chubby cousin squeezed next to Zhuang Chen, lit his cigarette and said eagerly, “Bro, if you get tired of the LaFerrari in a few days, how about selling it to your brother for fifty million?”