Perfect Girlfriends

An Unbelievable Encounter

Though the road ahead was barely ten meters wide, the three cars were flying at a frightening speed, roaring toward the crosswalk just a few strides in front of me.

Gasps broke from the crowd. Some people even covered their mouths in terror. An elderly man was in the middle of the crosswalk—squarely in the Porsche’s path. The modified Lancer and the BMW Z4 could still dodge him from the left and right. But the Porsche… there was nowhere for it to go. It was about to crash straight into him.

The screech of tires ripping against asphalt exploded in the air. The Z4 and Lancer shot past the old man like bullets, leaving only the storm of dust swirling behind. The Porsche swerved violently, cutting from a hard brake into a rapid series of taps—its speed plummeting…

It stopped just inches from the old man’s side.

She leaned forward, glaring at the two cars already disappearing ahead, raised her middle finger, and with her jaw working a piece of gum, seemed to mouth a crisp, “F*ck you.”

And in that instant—just a heartbeat—I saw her face clearly.

A red-and-white headband. A high ponytail. A bright red scarf wrapped around her neck. A red jacket hugging her body. Her entire presence loud, wild, and flamboyant…

It was Mo Han.

I couldn’t be wrong. Her face was etched into my memory—and into the deeper places beneath memory. But…

Before my thoughts could even catch up, the Porsche leapt forward again, and in less than ten seconds vanished from sight.

The crowd burst into heated chatter—her dazzling stunt the spark of their excitement. Beside me, Shen Man nudged my shoulder. Only then did my soul catch up with my body.

An overwhelming surge of instinct crashed through me. I turned to Shen Man and blurted, “You all go ahead—I’ve got something to take care of—” And before she could open her mouth, I was already running.

“Zhang Yixi—where are you going!?” Shen Man’s voice cracked behind me—she was furious, stomping her heel against the ground, all elegance gone.

I sprang to the roadside and flailed an arm at a taxi. The moment the door cracked open, I threw myself in, breathless, heart burning.

I had to find her.

This couldn’t be coincidence—not here, not now. Statistically speaking, this was a miracle.

“Sir! Chase after that Porsche ahead!” I barked at the driver.

“You serious? You want a Santana chasing a Porsche?” He stomped the brake, nearly sending my face into the dashboard.

I yanked out a hundred yuan, thrusting it toward him. “Just follow the road straight! When we find it—you’ll get another!”

“Well, that sounds more reasonable.” He tucked the bill away. “But forget the bonus—we’ll use the meter. I’m not robbing anyone today.”

We drove at a steady sixty. The driver watched one side of the road, I scanned the other. Overtaking Mo Han was hopeless—only if she stopped somewhere could I find her.

But Yangzhou was a big city. Who knew where she’d park?

My excitement began to lose shape… dissolving into desperation.

Once again, I pinned my hopes to fate.

I refused to believe fate would let us collide only once in this foreign city. The gears had begun turning—there was no turning back. If fate bailed now… it would just be too ridiculous.

“Hey—kid, is that the Porsche you’re hunting for?” The driver tapped my shoulder and pointed out the window.

I looked. My heart detonated.

There it was. Parked right outside a massive shopping mall.

I didn’t wait for change. I flew out of the car and straight toward it.

I didn’t go inside. With the mall packed full of people, finding her would be impossible. But the car was here. If I waited long enough—she would come back.

I leaned casually against the door and lit a cigarette, earning the stares of passersby who probably assumed the car belonged to me. Feeling too exposed, I moved to sit on a stone bench nearby.

My phone began to ring—again. I didn’t need to look to know it was Shen Man. I’d abandoned her in front of those business partners. I had humiliated her. Again.

I hesitated… but answered.

“Hello, Senior—”

“Zhang. Yi. Xi…” She pronounced every syllable like summoning a ghost from its grave, sending a chill down my spine.

“Listen! I really have something urgent going on—"

Before I could finish, her voice erupted like a bomb:

“Tell me—what could be more important than work!? If you don’t have a damn good reason, go throw yourself in the nearest river and do NOT come back!”

“I can swim though. I wouldn’t drown.” I muttered—because for me, finding Mo Han was more important than any job.

“I can SEEE your bastard smirk through the phone,” she hissed, voice lowering as she remembered to maintain her image.

“Don’t be mad. It’s… life-or-death urgent. I’ll explain when I’m back.”

The sun bore down fiercely. A figure walked slowly toward the Porsche. I raised a hand to block the glare—

My heart stopped.

I hung up. Didn’t care if Shen Man was mid-sentence.

She opened the door, about to get inside.

I yelled, voice cracking from the force of it:

“Mo Han!”

She didn’t respond.

I lunged forward, grabbed the door, and stared at her up close. She turned toward me—our eyes locked.

A breath passed. Then she spoke:

“Do we… know each other?”

Her calmness blindsided me. A cruel joke—had to be. I stared harder, searching her eyes for any hint of recognition.

She started the engine, ready to pull away.

Panic surged—I grabbed the door again and pointed at myself desperately:

“It’s me! Zhang Yixi! Don’t you remember? I picked up your phone! We spent a night in the garden! You left me your black coat—my scarf and gloves—you took them!”

She clicked her tongue and snapped:

“You’re nuts.”

I stood there—blank, gutted, suspended in disbelief.

Could two people really look this much alike?

Her face was Mo Han’s. But the aura? The essence? Not even close. If Mo Han was winter frost—this woman was pure wildfire, burning without rules or restraint.

Maybe… she truly wasn’t the woman I knew.

Still refusing to surrender, I gripped the door harder.

“What’s your name?”

“Freak.” She spat the word like poison, chewing gum as if I weren’t worth a breath.

Light struck her hair—a faint reddish tint shimmered. Not Mo Han’s ink-dark strands.

“So your name is Freak?” My voice cracked with bitter sarcasm.

“Get lost.” Rage flickered across her face. She shoved me, hard—but I held on. Our struggle drew a ring of curious onlookers.

She finally exploded:

“You stupid f*ck—LET GO!”

And my heart… fell straight into an abyss.

I understood then—Mo Han, the quiet goddess untouched by the world, could never be this venomous, this chaotic creature.

The woman before me—was no angel.

She was a demon freshly escaped from hell.