The autumn night is deep, and the northern suburbs are close to the mountains. The thick night wraps the mountains and the strata. Only here, the spotlights are projected on the concrete floor, as bright as day, like an open fire ignited at night.
On the track, the sound of the engine resounded in the sky, the tires were grinding against the ground, and in such a high-scoring environment, Yan An seemed to be still burning in the fire.
She climbed onto the auditorium, propped her body against the fence, half of her body leaned out, one palm was pressed to her lips, and she kept screaming wildly.
Everyone else was leaning on the sidelines beside their locomotives, only Yan An, cheering and screaming still loomed in the wind amid the roar of the engine.
Da Zhan: "What"s the matter, Yan An
