F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

The roar of engines echoed back and forth between the stands and the buildings.

"The last corner! The super long straight after the hairpin turn 14! Lin Feng activated DRS!" In the live stream, Li Bing's voice was hoarse from shouting. "Williams' top speed on the straight is incredible! He crossed the finish line!"

The timer tower on the big screen ticked.

"1 minute 35.402 seconds!" Fei Ge chimed in, "Q3 of the sprint qualifying round is over! Lin Feng! Eighth place! He's firmly holding off Stroll and Kakuta Yuki!"

Meanwhile, the fans in the main grandstand waving the Chinese national flag and the Williams blue team flag erupted like boiling water.

The two words "Awesome!" converged like a tsunami, echoing in the sky.

In the cockpit, Lin Feng took a deep breath, feeling a sharp pain in his neck.

The high-speed corners at the Shanghai International Circuit are incredibly taxing on the neck muscles. If he hadn't been practicing day and night on the simulator and system, he probably would have crashed into the wall at turn 8.

"Well done, Lin!" Paul's voice came through the headset. "P8, we're starting from the fourth row in tomorrow's sprint, and you're less than a tenth of a second slower than Hamilton in front of you."

"Received. This car is understeer like a donkey today, but it's actually running pretty fast." Lin Feng joked with a laugh in the TR while pressing the deceleration button to return to the track.

"Haha, let's talk about it back in the pit room. Get ready to park and weigh the car."

Lin Feng slowly drove the race car into the maintenance area.

Once the car comes to a complete stop, the power is cut off, the steering wheel is removed, and with both hands bracing against the edge of the car, the passenger leaps lightly out of the cabin.

Just as he took off his helmet and fireproof balaclava, shaking off his sweat-soaked hair, Sauber driver Zhou Guanyu from the next pit lane also came over. Zhou Guanyu was unfortunately eliminated in SQ2, ultimately starting 12th on the grid, but this was still a pretty good result for Sauber, which has struggled this year.

"Wow, bro, driving this fast is crazy!" Zhou Guanyu walked up and punched Lin Feng on the shoulder with a smile.

"There's no other way, my family's watching. I can't drive it too much like an old man's car." Lin Feng grinned, casually picked up the towel the mechanic handed him and wiped his face. "Let's go, to the mixed zone. I bet the domestic media have already swarmed there."

The two walked side by side toward the mixed zone for media interviews at the back of the paddock.

Zhang, a reporter from CCTV's sports channel, had been watching eagerly. As soon as he saw the two Chinese drivers approaching, his eyes lit up, and he immediately waved, "Guanyu! Lin Feng! Over here!"

The two exchanged a glance and walked in front of the camera in perfect unison.

"Hello viewers at home, I'm currently in the paddock of the F1 Shanghai Grand Prix. Standing next to me are the two Chinese drivers who have the entire stadium buzzing with excitement today: Zhou Guanyu and Lin Feng!"

As the camera zooms in, Zhou Guanyu habitually reveals a gentle and polite smile, while Lin Feng raises an eyebrow at the camera and makes a peace sign, emphasizing a relaxed demeanor.

"First of all, congratulations to both of you for your outstanding performances in today's qualifying sprint." Zhang handed the microphone to the two of them. "Lin Feng, this is your first time driving an F1 car at the Shanghai International Circuit, and you've made it straight into Q3 and finished eighth. When you crossed the finish line and heard the cheers from the crowd, what were you thinking?"

Lin Feng leaned closer to the microphone and said seriously, "Where do you want to eat tonight?"

Zhang Ge was stunned, while Zhou Guanyu tried hard to suppress his laughter.

"Ahem, just kidding." Lin Feng quickly made up for it, his playful smile fading. "Actually, my mind went completely blank the moment I crossed the finish line. The car's setup today was really extreme. We lost a lot of grip in the corners and relied entirely on our top speed on the straights. To be honest, getting eighth place was 70% due to our hard work and 30% thanks to luck. Of course, the most important thing was the incredible support from our compatriots in the stands."

Zhang Ge chuckled, nodded, and turned to Zhou Guanyu: "Guanyu, it's a pity today too, you were just one step away from Q3. Tomorrow's sprint race starts at 12th place, do you have any tactical plans?"

"Yes, it's a little of a pity." Zhou Guanyu nodded slightly. "We upgraded the chassis this weekend, and we're still finding the balance of the car. Tomorrow's sprint race is only 19 laps, so it's quite difficult to catch up in such a short time. My goal is to try to overtake Hulkenberg at the start, then maintain a steady pace and see if I can break into the points zone. But I'm also very happy for Lin Feng; that kid drove way too fast today."

"Speaking of driving recklessly," Zhang Ge turned his attention back to Lin Feng, "online fans are calling you 'Williams the Thug.' Many people describe your driving style as extremely aggressive, especially on defense, where you practically don't give an inch. Is this your consistent tactic, or is it something you deliberately do on the F1 circuit?"

Lin Feng shrugged: "Actually, I have a pretty good temper, really. Don't be fooled by the highlights online. I just feel that there's only so much space on the track. If I don't take it, someone else will. They're afraid of crashing, and so am I, but I'm slightly less afraid than them, and that's enough."

Finally, Brother Zhang asked a lighthearted question: "I heard you guys did your part as hosts during this competition back in China. Did you take the other drivers to experience any unique Chinese activities last night?"

"I brought it," Zhou Guanyu answered quickly. "I originally said I'd take everyone to eat some authentic local cuisine, but Lin Feng insisted on dragging Bottas and Leclerc to a roadside stall for grilled cold noodles and rice noodle rolls."

"Don't talk nonsense, that's a Michelin-starred restaurant on the streets of China!" Lin Feng immediately retorted. "Didn't you see how happy Walter was eating the starch sausage? He even wanted to ask the owner for the franchise number, planning to promote the starch sausage to Finland. And Charles, although he frowned while eating, he even finished off all the onions in the grilled cold noodles."

……

Today's competition has come to an end, and it's 10 PM.

Everything was calm at the hotel where the Williams team was staying.

The back-to-back media events and intense qualifying sessions led most drivers to choose to go back to their rooms early to rest or find a therapist to relax their muscles.

Lin Feng had just finished showering and was lounging on the sofa in the hotel's oversized white bathrobe, completely unconcerned about his image. He was eating the fruit salad that room service had brought him with a fork when he picked up his phone from the coffee table.

Lin Feng tapped his fingers a few times, then casually opened WhatsApp and clicked on a group chat named "[2024 Grid (No Team Principals/No FIA)]".

This group is the private gathering place of the 20 current F1 drivers, a sanctuary where they usually complain about the races, grumble about the cars, and chat with each other.

The group chat was deathly silent at this moment.

The last news was three hours ago, when Russell, as a representative of the Drivers' Association, published an in-depth analysis report on "the impact of the material used in the runoff area of ​​Turn 14 at the Shanghai International Circuit on tire wear".

Only Zhou Guanyu replied with a polite "thumbs up" emoji; everyone else was pretending not to hear.

"These people are so boring." Lin Feng shook his head.

As a Gen Z individual well-versed in the abstract culture of the internet, Lin Feng felt it necessary to clean up this lifeless group chat.

He opened his photo album and skillfully pulled out a long-treasured meme: it was a low-resolution panda head wearing black sunglasses, a cigarette dangling crookedly from its mouth, and an extremely arrogant expression. Right below the panda head were two huge letters: "SB".

Lin Feng grinned mischievously and decisively pressed the send button.

[Williams-Lin Feng]: [Image]

The group was silent for about ten seconds.

Just when Lin Feng thought everyone had fallen asleep, Lando Norris was the first to jump out.

[McLaren Norris]: Bro, what is this thing, a panda?

[Williams-Lin Feng]: That's right, this picture symbolizes absolute dominance on the track and an impeccable sense of relaxation in our country.

[McLaren-Piastrie]: So why is this dominant panda smoking? Also, what does "SB" mean under the picture?

Seeing someone take the bait, Lin Feng's fingers flew across the screen as he began his persuasive tactics.

[Williams-Lin Feng]: Good question. SB is a very ancient and extremely sincere term of praise in the East, and it is also an abbreviation for "Super Best". If someone says SB to you during a competition, it means they admire you immensely and think you are incredibly awesome.

There was a two-second silence in the group chat.

[Williams Alben]: ...Lin, I swear you're absolutely talking nonsense.

[Red Bull - Yuki Tsunoda]: Shut the hell up! I'm going to sleep! Can't you guys just shut up?!

Faced with the short, irritable Japanese man, Lin Feng unceremoniously unleashed the teaching results he had just learned.

[Williams-Lin Feng]: Yu Yi, you're such an idiot. Have a good dream tonight.

[Red Bull - Hiroki Kakuta]: Get lost, Lin!

Lin Feng's actions stirred things up, and the drivers who had been pretending to be dead were all brought out and started joining this pointless late-night chat.

[Bottas Sauber]: [Image]

Bottas, who has always enjoyed showcasing performance art, didn't waste any words and directly posted a photo in the group chat.

In the photo, the Finnish cyclist is sitting naked on a wooden plank in a sauna, only his broad back visible. Most outrageously, he's holding a grilled sausage in his hand.

[Ferrari Leclerc]: My God... Valtri, please, please stop dumping trash into the group!

[Aston Martin Alonso]: Wow, young people these days have so much energy.

[Red Bull - Verstappen]: Has anyone brought a racing simulator to the hotel? Anyone want to play a few laps of online racing with me before bed? I've created a room!

Looking at the screen filled with comments from all sorts of eccentric figures, Lin Feng laughed so hard he rolled around on the sofa.

Who would have thought that these world-class drivers, who fight tooth and nail for a fraction of a second on the track and look glamorous under the spotlight, have chat groups that are no different from the silly roommate groups in a college dorm?

Just as chaos erupted, the group leader, Russell, finally couldn't stand it anymore.

[Mercedes-Russell]: Guys, can we talk about something serious? Did anyone even read my analysis of the run-off area at Turn 14? The asphalt material at the edge of the track has changed, and that stuff is crucial for tire strategy in tomorrow's race! Don't any of you care about tomorrow's results?

There was an awkward silence in the group for about five seconds, as everyone was speechless at the jarring comment.

Norris then opened fire first.

[McLaren Norris]: George, you're an idiot.

[Ferrari-Leclerc]: George was really stupid today.

[Haas-Hockenberg]: I second that, it's utterly stupid.

Even Hamilton, who hadn't said much until now, chimed in.

[Mercedes Hamilton]: God bless you, George, you're a real idiot.

At that very moment, Russell, in another luxurious suite in the hotel, was wearing pajamas, holding a cup of warm black tea, staring blankly at his phone screen filled with "SB".

Zhou Guanyu couldn't stand it any longer and sent Lin Feng a WeChat message.

"Lin Feng! You son of a bitch! Don't teach them to use words carelessly! What if tomorrow during the drivers' parade, Lando yells at the main grandstand, 'Shanghai fans, you're all idiots!' How are you going to handle that then!"

Lin Feng looked at WeChat, and the image of Norris standing on his convertible tomorrow, waving his hands and shouting those two letters to hundreds of thousands of Chinese car fans flashed through his mind. He almost couldn't hold back his emotions.

"Hahaha, cough cough cough..." Lin Feng replied to Guan Yu while coughing.

"Don't worry, Guanyu, this is called cultural export. Besides, tomorrow is the sprint race. If anyone gets in my way, I'll call them an idiot in TR. Anyway, the tournament organizers don't understand Chinese, so they'll think I'm praising them."

Zhou Guanyu was speechless at Lin Feng's train of thought and could only reply with a middle finger emoji.