Waiting for the Right Moment

Su Yang stared dumbfounded at the message Gu Xiaoman had sent him.

He muttered to himself, "Holy crap! That’s totally unexpected."

"Never thought, never thought she’d actually compliment me, hahaha, and even told me to be careful next time. That’s the key—there’s gonna be a next time! Nice~"

Su Yang grinned as he indulged in the fantasy, then relaxed and got dressed before heading to the bathroom for a quick wash.

A few minutes later, he walked to the sofa and picked up his bag, suddenly remembering that the system had rewarded him with an Aston Martin the night before.

‘The keys must be in here.’

He opened the bag, and aside from the Porsche key and his rental apartment key, there was now an additional black key.

Su Yang pulled it out and examined it—it was indeed the Aston Martin key.

"System, oh system, you really get me. Sending exactly what I love—you’re the best!"

With his bag in hand, Su Yang left the room, went downstairs to the hotel lobby, and checked out.

Once outside, he hesitated, unsure whether to go home or somewhere else.

His newly bought house wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow at the earliest, so he decided to head back to his rental place to change clothes first.

As he walked, Su Yang stopped by a nearby dumpling shop for a quick breakfast.

His Porsche was still parked near the bar from last night, while the Aston Martin was in the hotel’s underground garage not far away.

For a moment, Su Yang couldn’t decide which car to take.

"Too many cars, too many choices. Which one to drive? Ah, forget it—let’s try the new ride first. The Porsche can stay put for now; I’ll grab it tomorrow when I move."

With that thought, he turned back toward the hotel and headed to parking spot A-1213, as the system had mentioned.

There, a brand-new black "Black Ops" edition DBX707 sat imposingly in its spot.

"Damn, that’s insanely cool!"

Su Yang eagerly pulled out the key and unlocked it.

Settling into the driver’s seat, he ran his hands over the steering wheel, marveling at the high-end interior—completely different from his 911 Turbo S. A wide grin spread across his face.

"Alright, let’s go! Time to change clothes. Oh, and since I’ve got nothing else planned today, maybe I should swing by Yangcheng after that. Now that I’ve got money, it’s time for Mom and Dad to enjoy life a little."

"But I’ll take it slow—don’t wanna freak them out. Maybe start by sending them 100,000 each."

Su Yang took out his phone and transferred 100,000 yuan to each of his parents’ bank accounts. WeChat had a transfer limit of 20,000 per transaction, so he had to do it in batches.

Once the transfers went through, he immediately called his father, Su Dagang.

After a few rings, the call connected.

"Hey, Xiao Yang, what’s up so early in the morning?" came Su Dagang’s weary voice.

"Dad, listen—I just sent you and Mom 100,000 each..."

Before Su Yang could finish, Su Dagang gasped. "W-what? A hundred... thousand?"

He knew his son’s job—Su Yang had been working at an ad agency after graduation.

An ordinary designer couldn’t possibly have 200,000 to spare just like that.

Su Yang chuckled. "Dad, hear me out. I quit that job last year and never told you. Actually, I’ve been running a business with a friend, and it’s been doing really well these past few months."

He paused before continuing, "Let’s just say I’ve had some small success. Now that I’m making money, of course I’m gonna take care of you guys, right? Heh."

"Y-you... Xiao Yang, you’re not joking with me, are you?"

"Would I joke about something like this? Trust me, it’s all real. Your son’s doing well now!"

On the other end, Su Dagang fell completely silent. His eyes reddened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak.

At nearly fifty years old, his family had never had much.

There were times when they couldn’t even afford Su Yang’s tuition and had to borrow from relatives. Though no one said it outright, Su Dagang knew what they thought.

That kind of shame was something only those who’d been poor could understand.

For decades, he had never been able to hold his head up high.

Su Dagang blamed himself for not being capable enough to give his wife and son a better life. So for years, he’d wake up at 5 or 6 a.m. to drive his taxi, working until 1 or 2 a.m.

Was it because he didn’t try hard enough? No—he’d pushed himself to the absolute limit of his ability.

Now, hearing Su Yang confidently say he’d made money in business and had just sent them 200,000, Su Dagang sat in his car and silently wept.

Su Yang listened to his father’s quiet sobs and didn’t interrupt.

His heart ached too. His parents were simple, hardworking people who’d never known comfort. But from now on, their days of hardship were over.

After a moment, Su Yang spoke again. "Dad, quit the taxi job. I can support you now. You’ve suffered enough—it’s time to enjoy life."

"Y-yeah... okay, okay!" Su Dagang wiped his tears and managed three shaky words.

He trusted Su Yang unconditionally.

He’d never doubt whether the money was clean—no one knew Su Yang’s character better than him.

Growing up poor, Su Yang had never once complained.

Though he wasn’t a top student, he’d never caused trouble, always making life easier for his parents.

After graduation, he never asked them for money again—in fact, he often sent them small amounts to help out.

So if Su Yang said the money came from business, Su Dagang believed him without question.

"Dad, go resign today. I’ve got nothing else going on, so I’ll come home later. I’m craving Mom’s cooking."

Su Dagang immediately replied, "Yes, yes! I’ll call your mom right now. My son’s made it—I’ve gotta tell her! This is great, just great!"

Su Yang chuckled, his own eyes growing moist.

"Alright, Dad, I’ll hang up now."

...

After ending the call, Su Yang took a moment to steady his emotions before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Half an hour later, he arrived at his rental apartment.

He stepped into the bathroom, stripped off his alcohol-tainted clothes, and took a quick shower.

Once changed into fresh clothes, he walked straight out the door.

By 11 a.m., Su Yang was cruising down the highway from Haicheng to Yangcheng in his jaw-droppingly sleek Aston Martin.

Yangcheng was a relatively poor small city in Tianhai Province, about 170 kilometers from Haicheng.

Haicheng, the provincial capital, was where most students in Tianhai aimed for college—close to home, with several reputable universities making out-of-province schools unnecessary.

Su Yang himself had chosen a second-tier college in Haicheng for the same reason—staying near family.

Normally, the drive from Haicheng to Yangcheng took about two hours.

But Su Yang had a lead foot. He couldn’t stand drivers who crawled at 80 km/h in the fast lane.

Being stuck behind them was pure torture.

Moreover, this was Su Yang’s first time driving alone on the highway. But with the skills of a professional racer at his disposal, cruising on the expressway felt even easier than navigating city streets for him.

So along the way, he overtook every car in sight, leaving no chance for anyone behind to reclaim their position.

At his speed, he’d reach his destination in under an hour and a half.

As he drove steadily, flickering lights suddenly reflected in his rearview mirror.

Su Yang was puzzled. What’s going on? I’m already doing 160, and someone’s flashing me?

He glanced back and saw a blazingly fast yellow Lamborghini Urus in the mirror.

Before he could react, the Lamborghini roared past him effortlessly.

Instantly, Su Yang’s competitive spirit flared. Oh, you’re passing me? A Lambo, huh? Alright, let’s see how you handle this.

With that, he switched the driving mode to track settings.

But in those few seconds, the yellow Urus was already nearly out of sight, its taillights fading fast.

Su Yang smirked at the disappearing Lamborghini and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The Aston Martin’s 707 horsepower erupted without hesitation.

Even at 150–160 mph, the second surge of acceleration pinned him back into his seat with brutal force.

The speedometer climbed effortlessly to around 250 mph, closing the gap on the Lamborghini in mere seconds.

After swiftly overtaking a slow-moving Corolla blocking his path, the road ahead cleared—nothing but the Lambo in sight.

Wait for the right moment! Su Yang shouted in his head.

He eased off the throttle before stomping it again, revs spiking to 8,000 RPM. The Aston Martin howled as it surged past the Lamborghini Urus with ease.