The Traffic Jam
Cici, riding shotgun, had her head resting on my leg, her tongue lazily sticking out, ignoring even her favorite toy ball, only flicking her tail now and then to brush against my pants.
Suddenly, urgent honking came from the car behind—"beep—beep beep"—nonstop, ringing in my ears until they hurt.
I frowned and looked back. In a red sports car, a girl stuck her head out, glaring at me while hammering the horn.
Before I could even react, she'd already pushed open the door and stomped over, wearing a black miniskirt that hugged her legs, her high heels clicking on the asphalt.
She reached my car window, slapped it hard, her rhinestone-studded nails sparkling in the sun and making my eyes go blurry.
She kept yelling, "Are you deaf? Honking all that time and you still didn't hear?"
I rolled down the window, trying hard to keep my temper: "There's a traffic jam up ahead, honking won't do anything, I can't move."
Her spit nearly hit my face, eyes dripping with contempt: "I don't care if there's a jam! I'm honking at you to move, can't you understand me?"
"I'm Yolanda Lincoln, heiress to the Lincoln Group!" She put her hands on her hips, chin held high like her status could crush me, "You're blocking the way with your crappy car, making me late today. Are you doing this just to mess with me?"
I glanced at my car—it was custom-made by a foreign designer my dad hired, with the emblem in a low-key matte finish. But to her, it was just a crappy car.
I didn't want to get into it, so I was about to roll up the window. "If you're in such a hurry, wait until the road clears before driving off."
She grabbed the edge of the window, stopping me from closing it. "You still dare talk back to me? You know who my dad is? In Sea City, no one talks to me like that!"
Just then, a guy in his twenties hopped out of the front passenger seat of the red sports car. His jacket zipper was undone, showing off a gold chain, and he swaggered unsteadily—obviously a spoiled brat.
He was Harry Lincoln, Yolanda Lincoln's brother. He came over, yanked open my car door, and reached to grab my keys, moving so roughly it was like he was trying to snatch something.
"Trying to leave? Not that easy!" Harry waved the keys in front of my face, his expression full of challenge. "Apologize to my sister first, or you'll be stuck here all day. Even if the traffic clears, don't think you're going anywhere!"
I stood up, half a head taller than him, staring him down. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I apologize? Or because she thinks I'm driving a crappy old car?"
"You still have the nerve to talk back?" Harry Lincoln shoved me; I lost my balance and stepped back two paces, almost hitting the guardrail by the side of the road. "In Sea City, when the Lincoln family says you're wrong, you're just wrong!"
"I suggest you do as we say, or else forget about surviving in Sea City. No one will hire you, no one will even dare serve you food!" His words got more and more ridiculous, like the Lincoln family could rule the world.
I suddenly found it hilarious. I know pretty much all the big companies in Sea City. When the Lincoln Group was on the brink of bankruptcy last year, Mr. Lincoln was running to my dad's office every day, groveling and begging for investment, crawling on his knees for half a month before finally scoring a bailout.
My dad's soft-hearted—he didn't just give them money, he even landed them three huge deals to pull the Lincoln Group back from the edge of bankruptcy. Didn't expect that in just six months, their kid would get this arrogant.
"The Lincoln family?"
I purposely dragged out my tone, staring at those smug looks on the brother and sister's faces. "You didn't go bankrupt last year—who do you think bailed you out? Don't forget that, okay?"
Yolanda Lincoln froze for a second, then got cocky again: "Who bailed us out is none of your business! You, driving that clunker, have the nerve to talk about our Lincoln family?"
"Let me tell you, my brother's about to get engaged to the heiress of Luke Group. You know Luke Group, right? The richest company in Sea City!" She acted like just dropping 'Luke Group' would make me tremble.
I almost burst out laughing. Luke Group is my family's company. My sister, Quincy Luke, is still single. Since when did she get engaged to Harry Lincoln?
Harry Lincoln went along with the brag: "Exactly. Once I get engaged to Ms. Luke, our Lincoln family will run the number one company in Sea City."
I pulled out my phone, planning to call my dad and let him see just how ungrateful the Lincoln family is.
But Harry Lincoln snatched my phone, turned off the screen, and shoved it into his pocket. "Still wanna call someone? Even calling the cops won't help. The cops gotta show respect to our Lincoln family!"
“Besides, even if you call someone, who's going to help you? Driving a beat-up car, what big shots could you possibly have around?”
He said that, deliberately patting his pocket as the phone inside buzzed softly.
The cars around started getting restless. The traffic ahead finally moved a bit, opening a gap of about a hundred meters, but we were still stuck, and the drivers behind were getting impatient.
Someone rolled down their window and shouted, "What's going on? The road is clear. Hurry up and drive!"
"I'm trying to get to my grandma's, and if this keeps up, it'll be dark before I get there!" a middle-aged woman called angrily from behind.
Yolanda Lincoln instantly put on a hurt look and shouted at the drivers behind, "Everyone, don't be impatient! He just cursed me, and when I asked him to apologize, he refused and even deliberately blocked the road!"
"I only honked to remind him, and he got out of the car to argue with me and even pushed me. Look, my arm's all red!" She rolled up her sleeve to show a totally fake red mark.
The drivers behind didn't see what was really going on and started pointing fingers at me.
A guy in a plaid shirt came over, patted my shoulder, and said, "Young man, don't be so stubborn. Just apologize, okay? Everyone's just trying to get going; don't let this small thing hold us up."
“Exactly! The poor girl's about to cry, and you, a grown man, can't just cut her some slack?”
Another woman jumped in to back Yolanda Lincoln, her eyes full of disapproval.
I opened my mouth to explain, but Yolanda cut me off: "He's doing this on purpose. Just now, he said he wanted to teach me a lesson. Look at that glare—so scary!"
"I think he just wants to trap us here and get back at us because I said his car's a piece of junk earlier!" Her story got more and more ridiculous, painting herself as the victim.
I suddenly thought of Cici in the front passenger seat. Just now when Harry Lincoln took out the key, he casually locked the car door. The sun's been blazing for ages, the car must be close to 40 degrees inside.
I quickly leaned on the car window to look inside. Cici was lying on the seat, her paws trembling, tongue hanging out really far, too weak to even lift her head. Her eyes were half-open, half-closed, looking seriously fragile.
"My dog!" I panicked, tugging hard on the car door, but it was locked tight, no matter how hard I pulled. "Harry Lincoln, give me the key! There's a dog in the car, if this keeps up, she's going to suffocate!"
Harry Lincoln crossed his arms and looked at me with a smirk: "What's the hurry? It's just a dog. If it dies, you can just buy another one. If you want to save it, apologize to my sister, kowtow three times, and I'll give you the car key."
"Don't push it!" I lunged to grab the key, but Harry Lincoln dodged quickly and shoved me. I almost fell over.
The people around looked like I was about to cry from panic, and some started wondering, "Is there really a dog? If there is, it would probably suffocate in this heat."
"Yeah, if he had the car key, he would've opened the car to save the dog ages ago. Maybe they really did snatch the key," a guy with glasses whispered. A guy with glasses whispered quietly.
Yolanda Lincoln immediately cut him off: "Don't believe him! He's just faking it, trying to get sympathy with a dog! It's just a dog, why would he care this much?"
"I bet he's doing it on purpose, trying to make everyone think we're bullying him so we have to apologize!" Her voice got louder, trying to drown out all the doubts.
Harry Lincoln jumped in too: "Yeah, he's faking it! Maybe he hid the key himself, trying to blame us!"
"How about we search again? If we find the keys on him, let's see what he has to say!" he said, then reached out to frisk me, moving so roughly he looked like a thug.
Two other guys nearby egged him on and came over to hold me down. I struggled backward, but they outnumbered me. They pinned me against the car door, squeezing my arm until it hurt.
"What are you doing? Let go of me!" I shouted, but they ignored me. Their hands were all over me, fumbling around trying to find the keys. It was unbelievably humiliating.
I seized the chance to break free and ran to the roadside. I saw a brick and grabbed it without thinking—my car windows were custom-made, supposedly shatterproof, but for Cici, I had no choice but to try.
I ran back to the car, grabbed a brick, and started smashing the car window. The "bang! bang!" sounds were way too loud on the highway, and everyone around looked stunned.
"Are you crazy? How dare you smash the car!" Yolanda Lincoln screamed, trying to stop me, but I just ignored her and kept hitting.
"You're not done putting on a show, huh?" Harry Lincoln also came over to pull me away, but I was stronger. He couldn't hold me back and ended up stumbling instead.
But the car window was too tough. After smashing it over ten times, not even a scratch showed, and my hand went numb from the impact, hurting like hell.
I looked over at Cici inside the car; she was lying still on the seat, only her belly was faintly rising and falling, her eyes closed. My tears started falling immediately.
"Cici, hang in there, don't die, please don't die..." I crouched by the car, the brick in my hand dropping to the ground, my voice choking up, tears hitting the asphalt and quickly drying in the sun.
The people around finally quieted down. Someone whispered, "It really looks like she's about to go. If anyone has the keys, hurry and give them."
"Yeah, it's a life we're talking about. Don't cause a tragedy."
Harry Lincoln still wouldn't budge: "Don't believe him! He's just putting on a show.”
"I'm telling you, he just wants to make us look bad, to get revenge!" His voice was fading, but he stubbornly refused to admit it.
Then, out of nowhere, this roar comes from the sky, and everyone looks up. A white helicopter's circling above, its rotor wash blowing the roadside trash everywhere.
A man's voice crackled through the helicopter's loudspeaker: "Mr. Yale Luke, you there? Mr. Luke sent us—said you might be in trouble!"
Yolanda Lincoln's eyes lit up as she grabbed Harry Lincoln's arm, "It's definitely sent by my dad! He must've seen the live stream, saw we were in trouble, and sent a helicopter to rescue us!"
Harry Lincoln puffed up with pride and bragged to the people around him, "See that? This is the power of the Lincoln family! A helicopter gets sent on a whim—bet you've never seen anything like this in your life!"
"Just wait, I'll show you how my dad deals with some guy driving a crappy car!"
The helicopter slowly descended, about two meters above the ground, then dropped a soft ladder. A man in a black suit climbed down nimbly—you could tell he'd been trained.
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