F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

The hotel suite door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

Lin Feng was wearing baggy shorts and sitting cross-legged on the sofa, eating an Arabic flatbread without any regard for his image.

Hearing the noise, he looked up and was almost choked by the person in front of him.

His agent, Zhou Kai, sported huge dark circles under his eyes, his hair looked like it had been struck by lightning, and he was clutching two briefcases that were about to burst, looking like a homeless man who had just escaped from a refugee camp.

He was breathing heavily, his tie was askew behind his neck, and there were even a few drops of coffee stains on his suit jacket.

"Water...give me some saliva..." Zhou Kai threw his heavy briefcase onto the carpet and collapsed onto the single sofa opposite Lin Feng like a lump of mud.

Lin Feng quickly handed him a bottle of mineral water, looked him up and down, and laughed: "Brother Zhou, did you swim all the way from the Red Sea? What happened to you? Your hairline looks like it's receded another two centimeters."

"Get lost! Who am I doing this for?" Zhou Kai unscrewed the bottle cap and chugged half of it. After catching his breath, he immediately sprang up like he'd been injected with adrenaline, slamming his hand on his briefcase. "From the moment you crossed the finish line last night, my two phones haven't stopped ringing! I bought a red-eye flight with a layover in Dubai overnight, and even paid a hefty price for satellite Wi-Fi on the plane to reply to emails! Those Italians in Ferrari's PR department practically ripped me apart on the phone, all asking what was going on between you and that bald team leader, Williams!"

"So what did you tell them?" Lin Feng asked nonchalantly, taking a bite of his flatbread.

"I said you were trying to sell him Chinese specialty tea!" Zhou Kai rolled his eyes dramatically, then his expression instantly switched to that of a money-grubber. He unzipped his briefcase, revealing a thick stack of documents. "Forget about those Italians! Look at this! Bro, you're really hot! This is all price lists from top domestic sponsors! I've never seen so many zeros in my life!"

Lin Feng glanced at the documents and yawned: "Alright, just leave them there. Go wash your face and get ready, the people from Tencent Sports will be here soon. If you show up on camera looking like this, people will think I owe you six months' salary."

Zhou Kai then remembered his business and rushed into the bathroom to wash up.

2 PM, hotel business conference room.

Tencent Sports' interview team has already set up lights and cameras. The interviewer is Li Hao, a veteran racing program host in China.

When the red light came on, Lin Feng had already changed into a clean Ferrari team casual suit, abandoning the nonchalant attitude he had shown when facing his manager, and his expression became calm and focused.

"Hello everyone from Tencent Sports, this is Li Hao. Today we are very honored to have invited Lin Feng, the young Chinese driver who just made history at the Jeddah circuit, winning the F1 Grand Prix!"

After finishing his opening remarks, Li Hao turned to Lin Feng and asked with a smile, "Lin Feng, congratulations again. Last night's race caused a huge sensation in China. Many people are curious about you, a genius who seemed to suddenly appear on the F1 circuit. Domestic racing fans know very little about your past, about how you embarked on this path of racing. Could you take this opportunity to share your story with everyone?"

Lin Feng nodded.

"Actually, there are no geniuses who suddenly appear."

Lin Feng's tone was calm. "Everyone may have only seen me spraying champagne on the podium yesterday, but what you haven't seen is the struggle over the past ten years. I was born into a very ordinary family in Beijing. My father's name is Lin Guoqiang, and he used to own a building materials factory. When I was seven years old, he took me to an outdoor go-kart track, and that's when my connection with racing began."

He paused, recalling those images buried deep in his mind.

"Racing is a real money-shredding machine. To hire a coach and support my participation in the national karting championship, my dad quit his job and went south to resell building materials. Later, to send me to Europe to race in F4, he secretly mortgaged our house without my mother's knowledge. My life in Europe was miserable. I had no big sponsors or financial backing, and I often stayed in motels that cost tens of euros a night, only to go to the track the next day and fight against those rich kids with millions in sponsorships."

The conference room was quiet, with only the slight sound of the camera running, which Li Hao listened to intently.

"My mom has always been against me racing; she always thought it was too dangerous. Yesterday, when Verstappen and I almost collided at the first corner, I can imagine how scared she must have been in front of the TV, barely daring to open her eyes." Lin Feng said, a gentle smile finally appearing on his lips. "So, I have to run faster, even faster. I can't afford to make mistakes, because the cost of my mistakes is higher than anyone else's. I got to where I am today, sitting in the cockpit of a Ferrari, not because of luck, but because of the confidence my parents built by selling everything they owned, and the opportunity I earned by wearing out countless tires on the track."

Li Hao nodded with emotion, and summarized to the camera: "This is truly a story full of resilience and fighting spirit. Lin Feng, you not only proved that Chinese drivers can establish themselves in the F1 paddock, but also proved the value of hard work and talent!"

Li Hao then asked some questions about the competition in the previous two days, especially about the private meeting with the Williams team leader last night. Lin Feng answered them all with ease, completely different from his previous naivety.

As soon as the interview ended and Lin Feng stood up from his chair, Zhou Kai pounced on him like a hungry wolf, clutching the stack of contracts.

"Lin Feng, this interview was fantastic! It was so compelling! These underdog stories are absolutely irresistible to domestic brands! Come on, let's strike while the iron is hot and bookmark these potential leads..."

"Stop!" Lin Feng grabbed Zhou Kai's hand and took out his constantly vibrating phone to take a look.

It was a WeChat message from Zhou Guanyu: "Bro, I'm starving! Tired of the Ferrari pasta? Come on, I know a great Arabian kebab place nearby, let's grab a bite, it's on me!"

"Brother Zhou, you're in charge of all the business matters. Select the top three and then come back for my signature." Lin Feng said, turning and walking towards the conference room door without looking back. "I need to replenish my carbohydrates now, excuse me!"

"Hey! Lin Feng! Don't run away! That's an eight-figure endorsement fee!" Zhou Kai shouted frantically from behind, but Lin Feng had already disappeared.

In the evening, the sea breeze in Jeddah dispelled the daytime heat.

Lin Feng, dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans without any logo, wearing a baseball cap, and with his hands in his pockets, strolled leisurely to the intersection where he had arranged to meet Zhou Guanyu.

A short while later, Zhou Guanyu also appeared, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, dressed in a trendy brand outfit.

The two met on the streets of a foreign country and, like two college students preparing to spend the night in an internet cafe, bumped fists in tacit agreement.

"Well done, Lin Shen! I heard you drove your Ferrari PR manager crazy?" Zhou Guanyu teased him right away, bringing up the photos from last night.

"Don't even mention it. Those Italians are probably figuring out how to send me to Le Mans to run an endurance race right now." Lin Feng shrugged, looking nonchalant and unconcerned. "Let's go. Where's your top-quality barbecue? I didn't even have a proper lunch because I was trying to avoid my manager's barrage of questions."

"It's right in that pedestrian street up ahead, absolutely authentic. I'm in a good mood today because I got some points, so order whatever you like!" Zhou Guanyu waved his hand and led Lin Feng into the alley.

As the two were walking, passing an open-air café, they suddenly heard a very cheerful and clear British accent coming from the side.

"Hey! Guanyu! Lin! Over here!"

The two stopped and turned to look.

Under the parasols of the cafe sat two tall men. One of them, wearing a light blue casual shirt, had his hair neatly combed and was smiling broadly, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth, waving wildly at them.

It was George Russell, a driver for the Mercedes team, who is known as the "Emperor of Racing" in the country.

Sitting opposite Russell was Alexander Albon of the Williams team.

Alben seemed to be in good spirits, so it seems that the incident yesterday where he was almost sent off by his teammate Sargent did not affect him much.

"George? Alexander?" Zhou Guanyu took off his sunglasses and walked over with some surprise.

"What a coincidence, guys!" Russell stood up enthusiastically and gave Lin Feng a warm bear hug. "Lin! Last night's race was absolutely incredible! I watched that move you made to defend Max at the first corner at least ten times on the replay! It was so wild, so perfect! That's real racing!"

"Thanks, George." Lin Feng was a little taken aback by the enthusiasm of this socialite in the paddock, and chuckled dryly. "You ran pretty well too."

Alben stood up as well, smiling as he extended his hand to Lin Feng: "Congratulations, Lin. To be honest, if it weren't for Logan's crash drawing out the safety car, I wouldn't have had the chance to see your restart up close. You completely outmaneuvered Max."

"Speaking of Sargent..." Lin Feng raised an eyebrow, "Alex, do you still have your upgrade kit for the second half of the season?"

Alben covered his face in anguish: "Brother, don't even mention it. We don't even want to buy tickets for the next game in Melbourne anymore. I'm even starting to suspect that James will make me share a steering wheel with Logan."

"Since we've run into each other, let's not just stand there!" Russell, naturally outgoing, put his arm around Lin Feng and Zhou Guanyu's shoulders. "We were just about to go get dinner. I've been so bored in Jeddah these past few days, let's go! I know a really great seafood restaurant, it's on me today, consider it a celebration for the new F1 Grand Prix victory!"

"Uh... actually we were just about to go eat barbecue." Zhou Guanyu hesitated for a moment and pointed into the alley.

"Forget barbecue! Athletes need to control their body fat! Seafood is the way to go!" Russell pushed the two forward without saying a word, excitedly chattering as he went, "Lin, you have to tell me properly how you did that sideslip drift on the first corner with cold tires. My car is like a tractor in slow corners this year. I desperately need your skills..."