Chapter Two: The Dead Man's Wheel

A new sense unfolded in Lu Xiao's mind. Every lane marking extended into a pale blue trajectory. He saw where every moving vehicle would be three seconds from now. Even with his eyes closed, the curve remained visible. Line prediction. The price arrived with it. He could no longer remember whether his first kiss with Su Wan had happened in winter or summer. In its place came the taste of Han Che's death: gasoline, blood, and gardenia in the passenger's hair. “Finish a harder stunt and inherit the last driver's gift,” Shen Mo said over the radio. “You may also choose one keepsake from the discarded footage. Keep driving, and you can assemble her again.”