CYNTM CHAPTER 88

Ciel stood in front of the mirror, meticulously adjusting his suit and bow tie.

This wasn’t his first time attending a wedding; he’d already been through four failed or short-lived marriages. Wedding marches, church ceremonies, and even the vows themselves were all far more familiar to him than to most.

But this time, he felt nervous.

His hairstyle, the neatness of his collar, the perfection of his cuffs—he couldn’t help but sigh as he looked at himself in the mirror. Why couldn’t he look as young as that guy?

After all, he was attending the wedding of Lawrence Owen, his rival of fifteen years—or perhaps, his one true friend.

Owen was different from him. He had lived a life untamed and free. If Owen ever decided to marry, Ciel was certain it would be a commitment that would last forever.

Unlike his own fleeting romances and marriages, Owen was the type of person who, once he decided, would never change his mind.

Suddenly, Ciel was pulled back to the memory of their first encounter many years ago.

Back then, he was full of confidence, like the blazing noon sun, dismissing everyone—even the top drivers adored by the media.

Ciel knew he would take down each one of them.

During his first test drive with Lotus, he was paired with a teammate who displayed exceptional driving skills. With each turn, Ciel felt increasingly challenged; what had started as provocation began to feel almost like playful teasing. For the first time, Ciel felt compelled to go all out, and the duel between their cars became so intense that their tires nearly burned out.

The test drive left Ciel unsatisfied. As he stepped out of his car, he watched his rival remove his helmet and pull down his fireproof mask. His ash-blond hair swayed lightly, sunlight catching its ends, while his green eyes held a trace of allure.

It was the first time Ciel had seen such a striking guy. Was he a man? Or a woman?

While Ciel was stunned, the guy strolled by, helmet under his arm, and whistled softly.

With a hint of a smirk, he seemed to mouth, “Don’t fall for me, I’m straight.”

An inexplicable flame ignited within Ciel, marking the beginning of their fifteen-year rivalry.

Now, Ciel gripped the steering wheel, waiting at a red light at a crossroads. He suddenly found himself wondering—what would Owen look like in his wedding suit? What kind of smile would he have on his face?

With a sigh, Ciel murmured, “You must be the luckiest woman in the world because he really is a good man.”

There were still a few seconds left on the red light. Ciel’s mind drifted back ten years, to the first time he’d suffered a serious injury in a race. His car had nearly been reduced to powder, and he’d been rushed to the hospital with a concussion.

When he woke up, both his thigh and neck were in casts, and for the first time, a flicker of fear crept in.

Racing safety standards weren’t what they are now; an injury like that was more than just a threat to his career, but also his life.

Thankfully, the team told him that, with recovery, he could still return to racing, though he’d miss the entire upcoming season.

“Did you know that after that race, Owen skipped the media interview and went straight to the hospital to see you?” his assistant told him.

“What for? Tell him not to worry—I’m not dead yet!” Ciel imagined Owen standing by his bedside, probably smirking at seeing him lying there helpless.

“You were unconscious, and he stayed by your bedside for over two hours. He only left when your fiancée arrived.”

Ciel felt a pang in his heart.

Nearly every day, he and his fiancée ended up in yet another argument. That day had been no different.

They sat on a hospital bench in the sunlight. Ciel squinted against the sun, stretching out his hand and watching the light filter through his fingers. His mind drifted to the racetrack, imaging the roar of engines and the crack of air.

“Ciel, are you even listening to me?” his fiancée, Monica, asked in irritation.

“I’m listening. You want me to give up racing, right?”

“Yes! You have no idea what I felt seeing your car smashed and thrown into the air! I can’t live in constant fear for you!”

“It sounds like I’m such a terrible driver, crashing every time.” Ciel looked at her with a smile.

He loved Monica’s beautiful face, her worry for him, even her charred attempts at baking. But he felt regret too… Monica could never understand his passion for speed and the thrill of pushing limits.

To her, he was nothing but a reckless adventurer.

“It’s not about your driving skills… It’s that I’m afraid of losing you. Can’t you just tell me you’d be willing to stop? Can I ask you to stop?” Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

So fragile. She made him want to hold her in his arms.

But stopping was something he could never do.

“Do you know, at the moment of the crash, I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid I might never race again.” Ciel looked at her seriously.

“I understand now. I don’t think we need to continue.” Monica turned away, taking his wheelchair with her.

“Hey! Monica! At least leave the wheelchair for me!” Ciel called after her.

But Monica left without looking back.

Ciel laughed at himself, closed his eyes, and turned his face back to the sky.

There was no way he’d be hopping back to his room on one leg. He’d have to wait until a nurse noticed he’d missed dinner and came looking for him.

Just then, a shadow fell over him. Ciel opened his eyes to see Owen’s beautiful green eyes.

“Oh… crap, of all people, it had to be you…” Ciel waved his arm, aware of how ridiculous he looked with his cast and neck brace.

“I’m off to the next race tomorrow, so I thought I’d stop by,” Owen said with a grin.

“Since when were you so considerate?” Ciel scoffed.

“Still mad about last year, when I got that guy to prank you dressed as a beautiful woman?”

“You think that was funny?” Ciel sneered.

“Pretty funny. Even better now—you’re cute like this.” Owen smiled with his eyes narrowed.

Ciel mercilessly swung his cast at Owen’s leg, but he dodged.

“Hey! If you injure me, who’ll carry you back?”

“Like you’d actually carry me?”

“Of course.” Owen turned his back to Ciel and crouched down. “Get on, I’ll carry you.”

Ciel squinted at him, imagining the satisfaction of giving him a solid kick.

“Thinking of knocking me over?” Owen asked, laughing.

Ciel couldn’t see his expression from behind.

“I’d sooner offend a woman than offend you.”

After saying that, Ciel balanced on one foot, draped his arm over Owen’s shoulder, and let Owen hoist him onto his back, adjusting him with a slight bounce.

The fresh scent of Owen’s shampoo lingered in his ash-blond hair, and as Ciel leaned in, Owen’s hair tickled his nose.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Ciel mumbled.

“Uh-huh. Do my shoulders make you feel safe?”

“You’re thinking too much,” Ciel grunted.

“Maybe you should lose weight, or you’ll burn too much fuel.”

“Not your problem.”

Owen lowered him back onto the hospital bed. Just as he was about to leave, Ciel lifted his chin and said, “Don’t let this season’s championship title slip away to someone else.”

Owen paused, then unexpectedly turned back, leaning close, one hand propped against Ciel’s pillow with an infuriating smirk. “What a rare honor—an actual request from you?”

“Are you out of your mind? Request, my ass!” Ciel shot him a middle finger.

“See ya, Rudolph.”

Owen walked away, leaving Ciel fuming, remembering how Owen always called him “Rudolph” in that overly familiar tone after every prank. But this time, had Owen even pulled a prank on him?

In the days that followed, Ciel lay in his hospital bed, tracking Owen’s races as he maintained a top-three finish at every circuit, ultimately clinching the season’s championship.

Meanwhile, Ciel would close his eyes, picturing all the races he and Owen still had left, replaying countless scenarios where he had overtaken him.

His pulse quickened, his fingertips warmed—everything felt different.

Time in the hospital became unbearable.

On his phone, he kept the message Owen had sent after the final race: I won the championship, but this season was boring without you.

Before Christmas that year, Ciel had a whirlwind wedding—not to Monica, but to a young nurse who’d stayed by his side for two months.

He called Owen. “Hey, I’m getting married. Want to be my best man?”

Owen’s laughter echoed over the line. “You’re telling me that with your arrogance, you’ve made so many enemies you have no one else to ask? And you want me to be your best man?”

Ciel fell silent.

Maybe it was all just wishful thinking on his part, picturing Owen as his best friend—a friend who was different from the usual ones you’d have a beer with and chat casually. This friendship felt like something even more special than the typical “friends.”

But Owen’s laughter made Ciel feel that his pride was hurt for the first time.

“I was just joking. Just wanted to let you know I’m getting married.” Ciel forced his voice to sound as bold as ever.

“Hey, Rudolph,” Owen’s voice softened on the other end.

“What?”

“You fall in love too easily. It’s because you crave being loved and cared for—not out of macho pride, but because you lack a sense of security.”

“Don’t talk like you know me so well.”

Owen chuckled softly. “Rudolph, when you meet someone who truly makes you feel secure, let me know. I’ll be your best man then.”

“What, are you cursing me with a divorce?”

“No, not at all. I just don’t agree to be anyone’s best man. But if it’s you, I’d make an exception—just once. So think it over before you ask.”

At that moment, Ciel found he couldn’t stay mad at him.

“All right.”

Marriage and love were two different things.

Ciel’s first marriage ended in complete chaos.

Owen hadn’t attended the wedding.

The night after Ciel signed the divorce papers, Owen did something rare: he drove over an hour to meet him at a bar.

“This is my fault. I didn’t spend enough time with her or take care of her,” Ciel said, staring into his beer.

“Neither of you is to blame. Getting to know someone comes with a cost. So does marriage.”

After finishing their drinks, they headed to a bowling alley, where Ciel lost so badly he wanted to throw the ball at the floor.

“It’s just bowling; don’t get so worked up,” Owen’s voice was calm and steady.

Ciel exhaled, tried rolling the ball like Owen, and scored a perfect strike.

“See?”

The next season was fulfilling for Ciel. Every race demanded his absolute best, his focus dialed to the breaking point, because his rival was Owen. Months of mental preparation and training paid off, and he won the season championship by a 2-point lead.

“Congratulations.” Owen smiled and hugged him, but out of view from the media, he gave him a sharp pinch.

Ciel was so irritated he wanted to kick him.

But Owen’s smile remained calm as ever. No matter how fierce the competition got, he accepted every outcome with ease.

Eventually, Ciel married again, and he called Owen to let him know.

“Want me to be your best man?” Owen asked.

“Well… I’m not sure. But if nothing else, you can be my son’s best man someday.”

“All right.”

Perhaps because of this uncertainty, Ciel’s wife was reported to have fallen in love with his accountant mid-season. The media speculated wildly about how this might affect Ciel’s performance, but he narrowly claimed the championship over Owen once again and then decisively served his second wife divorce papers.

After signing the papers, Ciel drove over an hour to the city where Owen lived, where the two spent days playing pool—Ciel losing every time.

“So, what insights have you gained from this second divorce?” Owen asked him over a meal, resting his chin on his hand.

“What’s your insight from watching my second failed marriage?”

“Love has a way of appearing out of nowhere and vanishing just as mysteriously,” Owen replied.

“Which is why, when the love’s gone, it’s better to let go. That way, when you look back, you don’t resent the good memories,” Ciel said.

“Rudolph.”

“Hm?”

“You’re actually a gentleman, very kind to women. You crave love, but you never demand it.”

“Thanks.”

For the next two seasons, Owen took home the championship.

Three years after his divorce, Ciel fell in love again, this time with a lawyer.

“A lawyer, huh… think she’s going to be tough?” Owen asked when they ran into each other in the tunnel at the Grand Prix.

“Yep.”

“Oh… so you like the feeling of being controlled.” Owen gave him a mock-understanding look, stroking his chin.

“Hey! What nonsense are you talking about?” Ciel glared at him.

“What do you think I’m talking about?” Owen asked.

“I know it’s nothing good!”

“Tell me, when you two are together, are you on top, or is she?”

“Mind your own business!”

“Ah, so it’s her on top, then. You’re blushing.”

“Lawrence Owen—!”

Ciel genuinely wanted to beat this guy to death, grabbing Owen by the collar and looking into his eyes, but found himself unable to follow through.

“Hey, want me to be your best man?” Owen tilted his chin up and asked.

Ciel suddenly remembered the first time he’d seen him, this guy with the same beautiful face… the same beautiful eyes.

“No way!”

“A lawyer, huh? She’s definitely going to take a lot of your money when you divorce!”

“None of your business!”

“Rudolph…”

“What?” Ciel really didn’t understand why he still put up with this guy.

“You’re actually quite brave.” Owen gave a slight smile, his gaze serious.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because every time, you give your all to love, but you can never seem to reach what you’re looking for.”

Ciel rolled his eyes. “If you keep jinxing me, I really will beat you up!”

This marriage lasted the longest because Ciel’s third wife was an independent woman with her own career. They respected each other, enjoyed their time together, and lived fulfilling lives even when apart.

On their third wedding anniversary, Owen sent Ciel a text: Do you regret not making me your best man?

Ciel smiled helplessly at the message and replied: No.

He wasn’t sure why he’d answered that way, but this marriage was indeed coming to an end.

What once felt like independent, non-interfering lives gradually turned into a chasm. Ciel realized they had almost nothing left to talk about.

The divorce went smoothly. Contrary to Owen’s predictions about splitting assets, what was hers remained hers, and what was his stayed his, as if they’d never been together at all.

“You’re becoming a master of divorce,” Owen remarked on the phone.

“Want to go on a trip together?” Ciel asked, instantly regretting it. He’d probably never enjoy a trip with this guy, who always managed to get on his nerves.

“I’d like to go to Santorini.”

“You don’t even want to get married, so what’s the point?”

“Sunrise on the left, sunset on the right. A lifetime passes in the blink of an eye.”

“Owen, have you really never thought about marriage? Or spending forever with someone?”

“I have.”

“With who?”

“With you.”

Ciel almost choked on his own spit.

“We’d race at full speed, tear through everything, with no finish line,” Owen said.

Ciel felt his eyes inexplicably warm.

“I’d like that too.”

Before they knew it, they had spent thirteen years in Formula 1.

Ciel entered his fourth marriage, this time with a woman who’d also been through a failed marriage and had two children. Ciel genuinely liked her and her kids.

“This time, I can finally be your best man, right?” Owen asked.

Ciel laughed, “Just wait a little longer.”

“But I have a feeling this one might be the last.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not young anymore; we can’t keep charging forward forever. Eventually, you’ll settle down.”

Only then did Ciel realize that most drivers retired at their age.

“I won’t stop unless you get tired of it,” Ciel replied.

“Oh, alright.”

That year, they encountered an incredibly talented and troublesome young driver, Vann Winston. He was like a sharp blade piercing into their world.

“Things are finally getting interesting. I wish this kid had shown up sooner.”

Owen rested his chin in his hand as they sat together in a small restaurant, looking out the window.

Ciel furrowed his brow and kicked him under the table.

“Hey! You asshole! Have I ever made you feel bored?”

“You have, because you’re so easy to tease. Without you, I’d have probably died of boredom by now.”

“Then I have news to make you even more bored.”

“What?”

“I got divorced.”

Owen didn’t even look surprised. He just raised his eyes. “And why’s that?”

“She thinks I wouldn’t make a good father.”

“But you love kids.”

“Loving kids and being a good father are two different things.”

After a two-second silence, Owen responded, “I’m sorry, Rudolph.”

“Yeah…”

“You really liked the feeling of home she brought you.”

“Mm.”

“You should’ve let me be your best man. Maybe that would’ve been the one that lasted.”

“Since you said you’d only be a best man once in your life, it felt too important. Somehow, none of my marriages ever felt like the real one,” Ciel replied.

“Thank you.”

 

Fifteen years after meeting Owen, this guy was finally getting married.

For some reason, Ciel felt that Owen’s marriage was different from any of his own.

When Ciel fell in love and wanted to live with someone, he’d act impulsively, jumping into marriage. But this guy Owen… he sought inner peace.

Owen was the type who would marry only once in his lifetime.

During the hour-long drive to the church, Ciel found himself reflecting on all the years he had known Owen.

Suddenly, he realized that the combined length of his four marriages might not even add up to the time he had spent with Owen, and he had never thought about it until now.

When he parked and approached the church, he planned to say a few heartfelt words. But he saw guests leaving, Owen’s assistant standing by, Winston with a blank expression, and Hunter scratching his head awkwardly, unsure of how to comfort anyone.

“What happened?” Ciel asked, stepping forward.

“Nothing much. The bride ran away,” Owen replied with a smile.

“Ran… ran away?” Ciel was stunned.

“Come on, you’ve had four failed marriages. I haven’t even had one.” Owen looked unbothered.

“Why did she run?” Ciel pressed further.

Owen had a beautiful face and knew how to keep things interesting—Ciel couldn’t imagine any woman agreeing to marry him and then running away.

“She was a con artist. She said she didn’t want to deceive me any more.” Owen shrugged helplessly.

The implication was: I’m so sincere that even a con artist was moved by me.

“So, now what? I drove over an hour to get here!” Ciel ruffled his hair.

“You could attend another wedding.”

“What?”

“Winston and Hunter’s. I lent them my priest.”

“Oh… like I haven’t seen enough of that all year? Absolutely not! Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere! Just not to their wedding!”

“You’re jealous because you know they’ll never get divorced?”

“Mind your own business!”

“Alright, then where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know! Just anywhere but their wedding!”

Ciel felt a deep frustration.

“Why don’t we go to Santorini?”

Owen, who had been following Ciel out of the church, suddenly stopped.

“What?” Ciel turned, frowning as he looked at him.

“Sunrise on the left, sunset on the right. A lifetime passes in the blink of an eye.”

With his hands in his pockets and still dressed in his groom’s suit, Owen smiled lazily and nonchalantly.

Sunlight fell across his face.

Just like when Ciel had first met him.

“All right.”

---

The author has something to say:

The novel ends here!

Sunrise on the left, sunset on the right. Thank you to everyone who joined me in watching the sunrise and sunset.

See you in the next story~

Little angels can follow Fat Melon on Weibo! The Weibo handle is @焦糖冬瓜. Updates on new works and updates will be posted there.

And, I hope everyone finds a love like Winston and Hunter’s that fills every regret and gives you a lifetime of happiness.

Translator’s note:
It’s over! Thank you again for reading! ❤️