Rain slanted against the car window, stretching the neon glow into long, colorful tassels.
Zhang Jie sat in the car, silent in response to the taxi driver's question. The leather seats gave a faint creak, mingling with the subtle lemon scent inside the car.
After a while, with the taxis behind honking impatiently, Zhang Jie finally said, "Can you take me to Shibuya?"
His voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the enclosed car.
The driver, Nakamura Yuichi, whose fingers were already hovering above the meter, paused at the words.
He was a man in his fifties, with graying temples. His slightly widened eyes were reflected in the rearview mirror, like a stage actor suddenly thrust into the spotlight, bewildered and at a loss.
"Wait, you have an Asian face, why are you speaking English as soon as you open your mouth?"
Nakamura was quite helpless; his English was terrible, but he could only steel himself and say, "Ah... Shibuya... Shibuya..."
He repeated the word, his Adam's apple bobbing, as if weighing its pronunciation on his tongue, much like the struggle we experienced learning English in elementary school.
One hand unconsciously rubbed the steering wheel twice, while the other suddenly gestured for a turn, only to freeze midway.
Beads of sweat subtly seeped from his forehead in the air conditioning. If he had known he would pick up a foreign friend, he should have studied English properly with his daughter back then.
"High... no, highway... or... eh..."
The broken words were like a stuck tape, eventually dissolving into an almost inaudible sigh.
Nakamura suddenly turned, fumbling in the passenger seat's storage compartment for a crumpled Tokyo map. The cap of his ballpoint pen made a soft "click" as he bit it open.
Zhang Jie watched him draw three increasingly larger circles around Shibuya Station, the paper showing tiny cracks where the pen tip pressed through.
The windshield wipers created a rhythmic pattern on the glass.
"Wait."
Zhang Jie suddenly smiled.
He pulled out his phone, and the cold light of the screen illuminated two equally tense faces.
When the Google Translate interface was pushed in front of Nakamura, his sigh of relief almost drowned out the engine's hum.
"Shibuya Eki made onegai shimasu (Please take me to Shibuya Station)."
The moment the mechanical female voice sounded, the wrinkles at the corners of the driver's eyes suddenly smoothed out.
He was saved!
He pressed the meter down hard. Amidst the metallic "click" of impact, Tokyo's rainy night finally began to flow again.
Then Zhang Jie once again took out his phone, typed a line of text, and brought the translated result to Nakamura's ear, pressing the play button.
"Isoide imasu node, sukoshi hayame de onegai shimasu (I'm in a hurry, please go a bit faster)."
After Nakamura heard it, he gestured while driving, "OK OK!"
He secretly vowed in his heart that he would definitely brush up on his English after returning home.
The scenery outside the window continuously receded in the rainy night. As the taxi's speed increased, raindrops streamed diagonally backward on the window.
Tires rolled over the wet asphalt, and the engine's roar carved an invisible trajectory on the highway.
The rain outside the car window gradually thinned, eventually disappearing, as if evaporated by Tokyo's neon lights.
Nakamura gripped the steering wheel, glancing at the time on the dashboard: 1:57. It was very late.
"It finally cleared up..."
He muttered softly, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly.
But the next second, several dazzling headlights approached in the rearview mirror, accompanied by the shriek of engines. Several modified cars roared past the taxi like wild beasts.
The hot blast from the exhaust pipes even vibrated the car windows, and one of them even deliberately got close, almost scraping the rearview mirror.
Nakamura slammed on the brakes, smashing his fist on the steering wheel in a fit of rage, "Kuso! Mata kono bōsōzoku domo ga...! (Damn it! It's these street racers again!)"
His voice exploded in the car, carrying uncontrollable anger and disgust.
The taillights of those modified cars carved arrogant red arcs in the night, quickly disappearing into Shibuya's intricate streets.
Nakamura took a deep breath and shifted gears again, but his knuckles were still white from gripping.
"Sorry, customer." He forced down his emotions, squeezing out a few words in stiff English, "Shibuya... soon."
Outside the car window, Shibuya's neon signs were exceptionally clear after the rain, as if the earlier chaos had never happened.
Zhang Jie had also seen the street racers pass by, but he felt nothing, as he too had been a racer.
Moreover, Shibuya's racing and modification culture was extremely strong, so encountering them at this time was normal.
The taxi stopped steadily. Nakamura took Zhang Jie's phone and said a sentence, "That will be 11,500 yen."
"Yen, huh?" Zhang Jie frowned slightly, then pulled out his wallet and handed over 150 US dollars.
Nakamura stared at the 150 US dollars handed to him, momentarily stunned.
It wasn't that he couldn't accept it or spend it, but 11,500 yen was only about 110 US dollars, and he didn't have change.
Zhang Jie ignored Nakamura's predicament, directly placed the money in his hand, opened the car door, and got out, leaving Nakamura in the car, wide-eyed and bewildered.
It wasn't that he was unhappy; he didn't have to make change and even earned a 40-dollar tip. For him, this was a significant gain.
After getting out of the car, Zhang Jie pulled out his phone and made a call. Yes, he called Veronica.
"I've arrived at Shibuya."
Listening to the voice on the other end of the phone, Veronica was a little surprised. She hadn't expected this young man to be so quick. Indeed, choosing him was the right decision.
At this moment, Veronica was half-reclining on the sofa, wearing only a slightly sheer white shirt that just covered her full thighs.
"Oh, little brother~ Shibuya is so big, how would I know where you are?"
Veronica's lazy voice made Zhang Jie raise an eyebrow. He then looked at the modified car party gathering in the distance.
"There's a modified car party directly in front of me."
After speaking, Zhang Jie immediately hung up the phone, giving Veronica no chance to say anything else.
"Naughty little brother~" Veronica dialed another number, and then extremely loud music came from the other end of the line, followed by a somewhat refined voice.
"Veronica, has he arrived?"
"Yes, my person has arrived in Shibuya. He said there's a modified car party next to him. I think you should know where that is, Suoluo."
This time, Veronica's voice was not so lazy; instead, it was extremely businesslike. After hearing her, the other party said, "I know where it is. Tell him to wait a moment; I'll send someone to find him."
Then the call was disconnected.
Veronica thought for a moment, then picked up the phone she had discarded earlier, typed a string of characters, put it down again, and then smiled looking out the window.
Subsequently, Veronica rang the dining bell, and in a short while, a food cart was pushed in, laden with various dishes.
It was 10:15 AM in San Francisco now. She would have some snacks first; she still had to meet some important guests later.
Meanwhile, Zhang Jie's phone, standing on the roadside in Shibuya, vibrated. He opened it to see:
"Wait by the roadside for a bit, someone will be there soon. Looking forward to your perfect completion, little brother~ — V"
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