Cheating? (Asking for Recommendations)

“How did he do it? How did he do it?” In the stands, the dyed-haired girl muttered to herself, still unable to believe that the red car hadn’t overturned.

She had always taken immense pride in her driving skills, believing that aside from the captain, no one else in the world could match her. Yet today, the performance of the red sports car had dealt her a harsh blow—it had accomplished what she could not. She could almost see a faceless figure silently mocking her, her pride torn to shreds.

“He must have cheated,” the tall young man suddenly exclaimed in agitation. “That car must have been especially modified.”

A glimmer of hope flashed in the dyed-haired girl’s helpless eyes, like a drowning person grasping at a straw. “Exactly, that must be it, it must be…”

A flush crept up her cheeks as she sprang to her feet, about to rush out, but the captain caught her by the arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Captain, let me go. I’m going to file a complaint! Daring to break racing rules—I’ll make sure this club gets shut down,” she said passionately, every bit like an injured lioness.

“It’s useless. This is their territory. Even if you go, no one will listen,” the captain replied. He was not as naive as she was. He understood the principle that a powerful outsider could not suppress a local force. No matter how influential their families were in Darl City, this was Mingzhou.

“So we’re just going to let them sully the sacred sport of racing?” she shouted angrily.

“We’ll think of something once we get back,” the captain said, helpless but trying to soothe her. Who knew what kind of trouble this headstrong young lady might stir up if left unchecked? For all her willfulness, her background was formidable. If anything happened to her here, who could say how many people would suffer the consequences? Even he might be dragged into it.

The dyed-haired girl snorted coldly but yielded to the captain’s advice, raising her gaze to glare hatefully at the red sports car still speeding along the track.

“He may not have cheated,” the bespectacled young man suddenly spoke.

“What did you say?” The dyed-haired girl glared at him.

“Let’s hear your reasoning,” the captain said. He trusted the judgment of the bespectacled man—experience had proved he was rarely wrong. Deep down, the captain didn’t believe there had been cheating either, but he lacked convincing evidence.

“Do you remember, there wasn’t just one person in the car,” the bespectacled man said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger. At this moment, his face radiated a sharp confidence, so different from his usual humble demeanor.

The three of them paused, momentarily stunned. They’d been so shocked earlier that they’d forgotten this detail. Only now, reminded, did it come back to them.

“With an extra person, the car was heavier by several dozen kilograms. You all know, at these speeds, even the slightest difference can lead to dramatic changes. So our usual experience doesn’t necessarily apply to the red sports car.”

“Even with that extra weight, the difference shouldn’t be so drastic,” the tall young man objected.

“That’s right,” the dyed-haired girl echoed. “How do you know that extra weight would keep the car from overturning?”

The bespectacled man remained unfazed in the face of their doubts. He took a portable computer from his pocket and pulled up video footage of the red sports car’s recent turn, freezing the image at the very instant it nearly flipped.

“Look here,” he pointed at the side of the car that had lifted off the ground.

“At what?” The dyed-haired girl leaned in but saw nothing unusual.

“It’s… odd,” the tall young man frowned. “Something doesn’t add up.”

“Exactly.” The bespectacled man snapped his fingers and input a command, pulling up a three-dimensional coordinate grid centered on the car.

“Now watch again.”

“It really is strange,” this time the dyed-haired girl immediately saw the discrepancy. “It looks like the car should have already overturned.”

“Precisely.”

With another tap, the bespectacled man displayed arrows on the coordinates, indicating the forces acting on the car.

Now it was plain to see: the resultant force on the car pointed sharply downward, and with the body almost fully tilted, it was unthinkable it hadn’t overturned.

“So he really did cheat!” the dyed-haired girl said through gritted teeth. “Here’s the proof.”

“Let me finish.” The bespectacled man smiled and resumed the footage in slow motion. As the car reached its highest tilt, just about to flip, the body gave a subtle shudder and then settled back down.

“That’s…” The captain’s eyes brightened.

“Exactly,” the bespectacled man nodded knowingly. “The driver of the red sports car is definitely a master of physical control—far beyond our level.”

The three fell silent. Indeed, aside from exceptional physical technique, there was no other explanation, assuming there was no cheating. It wasn’t that they couldn’t imagine the possibility, but rather, measuring others by their own limits, they hadn’t even considered it—since they themselves couldn’t do it.

After all, everyone present was among the elite—born into great wealth and status, gifted and talented, with physical training already at the second level at such a young age, standing out among their peers. It was no wonder they were proud and dismissive of others.

“Hey? Where’s the red sports car?” the bespectacled young man suddenly asked.

His words broke the silence. They all looked up. Sure enough, the red sports car with the tail number 001313 had disappeared from the big screen. Even the club’s video receivers could not locate it.

As it turned out, while they had been deep in discussion, the red sports car had left the premises unnoticed.

With no way to find the car, they had to give up. Taking one last look at the big screen, their interest faded, and when the captain suggested leaving, the other three agreed.

“I’m going to find out who that person is,” the dyed-haired girl silently vowed, her small hands clenched tight as they left. She was determined to challenge him.

That night, someone uploaded a complete panoramic video of the red sports car’s run, sparking an immediate sensation and rapid reposting across all major sports car forums.

Many auto enthusiasts, upon seeing the video, instantly made the driver of the 001313 red sports car their idol.

“He’s elevated car racing to an art form,” one commentator remarked.

It was true—the car’s movements were so natural, the turns as effortless as an antelope leaping through the air, possessing a unique and striking beauty untouched by the mundane.

The most controversial part was the final downhill turn. Many insisted the red sports car had cheated, while die-hard fans of 001313 argued otherwise. A heated debate erupted.

The firestorm began on a minor forum, where someone posted a detailed analysis much like the bespectacled man’s, concluding that the red sports car must have cheated—otherwise, there was no reason it wouldn’t have overturned.

Fans vehemently refuted this, unable to provide solid evidence, but insisting that the Mingzhou Racing Club was above reproach—its reputation unblemished, with no history of cheating.

Someone claiming to be an employee of the Mingzhou Club even responded, saying the cheating accusations were pure fabrication—the club’s regulations were extremely strict and cheating was utterly impossible.

Neither side could convince the other, and in the end, it became an unresolved controversy.

Of course, the debate was limited to car enthusiasts and had little impact on the mainstream.