Zhang Ming's blood was boiling when he saw the Civic driver's smug expression.
"Seriously? You're gonna challenge my Great Qin with that plastic badge import? You're just asking for it."
Out loud, Zhang kept it chill:
"Alright, let's race. I'm not scared."
Inside the white Civic, Fu Feiliang was buzzing with excitement. He'd just picked up his new car from the dealership that morning, after paying ¥10,000 over retail and waiting a week.
The first thing he did? Record a "flex" video:
"The Civic has arrived. I wanna ask—who else?"
Civic bros flooded the comments:
"Welcome to the fam!"
"Time to show 'em how it's done."
"One Civic nation, under VTEC!"
Feeling invincible, Fu tore through traffic, nearly causing multiple accidents. Drivers cursed him out left and right, but he didn't care. He needed an open road to film more acceleration clips, so he veered off to a quiet stretch on the edge of town.
That's when he spotted it:
A red Qin Pro.
He recognized the design from online teasers. Word was it had an Audi engine under the hood. But Feiliang didn't flinch.
"Audi or not, a domestic brand's still domestic. Nothing beats the Civic."
So, when did Zhang Ming accept his challenge? He grinned widely and pulled into position. The road was empty. No traffic. No cameras. Just pavement and pride. Zhang Ming rolled up beside him, window down.
"We'll start on your count."
Fu Feiliang smirked.
"Alright, brother. You sure you wanna do this? Civic's gonna make you regret that purchase."
Zhang Ming's voice was ice.
"Talk later. Drive now."
"Three. Two. One—go!"
They both floored it. Two engines roared. Tires screeched. The race was on. Inside the Civic, Feiliang shouted:
"Eat dust, domestic junk! This is the high-performance Civic! Zero to 100 in 7.1 seconds—wait… what the—?!"
The Qin Pro didn't just keep up. It blew past him. By the time the Civic crossed 70 km/h, Zhang Ming was already pulling away. At 100, he was a blur in the distance.
Feiliang's jaw dropped.
"Impossible! This Civic is top-tier! How's a domestic car outrunning me?!"
He slammed the accelerator harder, praying for a miracle. But it was useless. Zhang Ming's Qin Pro was gone, leaving behind nothing but taillights and turbo noise. Zhang Ming smirked at his rearview mirror from the driver's seat.
"Trying to catch me? Eat my fumes, Civic boy."
He dropped the throttle again, disappearing into the horizon. Back home, Zhang Ming uploaded the dashcam footage with one savage title:
"When the Great Qin arrives, the Civic kneels. Come again?"
The video exploded.
300,000+ likes
20,000+ comments
Civic roast season had begun.
Comments rolled in:
"Qin Pro just smoked that Civic like it was standing still."
"Audi tech hits different. Civic bros, pack it up."
"This isn't a race—it's a reckoning."
"I've had enough of Civic owners barking all year. Qin Daddy showed up and shut it down."
"Where's the guy who said 'under five million'? Bro can't even beat a twelve-grand sedan!"
The timing was perfect.
Civic owners ran wild online for weeks, challenging "any car under ¥5 million."
But whenever someone brought a real sports car? They dodged.
"Only cars in our class count. Same segment. Same price range."
Netizens had had enough.
"You said ANY car. Now you're setting terms?"
They needed a challenger who fit the same class but could slap the Civic senselessly. And now? They had it—the Qin Pro.