F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

The black and white checkered flag is waving.

Inside the cockpit, Lin Feng's chest heaved violently, his arms were sore from even turning the steering wheel, and his neck was aching.

"Well done, Lin! You got second place!"

Immediately afterwards, James Walls' voice came through the channel.

"Lin, this is James. Thank you for everything you've brought to the team. Enjoy your return lap, we'll be waiting for you in the parking area."

Lin Feng let out a breath and pressed the call button: "Thanks a lot, guys. This car was great today. We deserve this position."

Just as Lin Feng was about to slow down and let the race car cool down, Paul's voice rang out again.

"Lin, the race organizers have just issued a special order. Because today is an extremely special home race, the FIA ​​has made an exception and allowed Zhou's car, the Sauber that finished ninth, to drive directly to the starting grid straight instead of returning to the closed car area."

Lin Feng was stunned for a moment, then laughed.

"Got it, this arrangement is fucking awesome."

On the track, Verstappen, who had just won the championship, was driving ahead.

Lin Feng gave it a slight throttle and caught up, running alongside the Red Bull race car. He then stretched out his hand and gave Verstappen a thumbs-up, to which Verstappen immediately raised his hand in response from his cockpit.

Just then, a fluorescent green appeared in the rearview mirror.

Zhou Guanyu, driving a Sauber race car, caught up from behind and drove directly to the other side of Lin Feng's race car.

A Red Bull, a Williams, and a Sauber.

The three race cars drove side by side on the track and began their return lap.

Every time they passed the stands, fans of all teams stood up and waved their hats, team flags, and Chinese national flags.

Lin Feng unlocked one of the latches on the HANS system, leaned his upper body out of the cockpit, and waved vigorously toward the stands. Zhou Guanyu next to him even took out a small five-star red flag that he had prepared beforehand and raised it high in the wind.

The main grandstand and straight avenue.

The parking signs for the top three spots were already in place.

Next to sign number 3, staff temporarily added a sign without any numbers.

Verstappen was the first to stop his car.

Next up was Lin Feng, who parked his race car in front of license plate number 2.

Leclerc's Ferrari was parked in position 3.

Finally, amidst a deafening cheer, Zhou Guanyu drove the No. 24 Sauber race car and came to a steady stop in the temporary parking spot.

The engines shut down one by one.

The track became much quieter in an instant, with only the roaring voices of the crowd in the stands remaining.

Lin Feng pulled the steering wheel away, braced his hands on the edge of the car, and leaped out of the cabin. The moment his feet touched the ground, he staggered, the aftereffects of exhaustion beginning to show.

He took off his helmet and fireproof hood and took deep breaths of air.

Verstappen had already walked over to the side.

"Good run." Verstappen extended his hand.

"I still haven't caught up with you." Lin Feng smiled and shook Verstappen's hand, the two bumping shoulders.

Leclerc also took off his helmet and walked over. He wiped his sweat and smiled wryly, pointing at Lin Feng and saying, "Taking the outside line at Turn 14? I thought you were going to drive straight into the stands."

"Fortune favors the bold, Charles," Lin Feng patted Leclerc on the back.

Just then, all three of them turned their attention to the Sauber race car next to them.

Zhou Guanyu removed the steering wheel and slowly stood up.

He didn't jump out of the cockpit immediately, but instead covered his face with both hands, and his shoulders began to twitch violently.

Twenty years of waiting, from a little boy waving a flag in the stands to becoming the first Chinese driver to run on an F1 track, and now, under the watchful eyes of 120,000 people at the home stadium, he has broken into the points zone.

Lin Feng strode over, reached out his hands, grabbed Zhou Guanyu's arms tightly, and pulled him out of the cockpit.

Zhou Guanyu took off his helmet, his face covered in tears and sweat. He hugged Lin Feng tightly, buried his head in Lin Feng's shoulder, and couldn't say a word, only sobbing silently.

"Well done, Guanyu, you did it! You didn't let your hometown down." Lin Feng patted Zhou Guanyu's back hard.

Not far away, F1 official presenter Will Baskerton was already walking over with a microphone.

With a broad smile, Basqueton first approached the champion Verstappen.

The noise from the crowd was so loud that Baskerton had to yell at the top of his lungs, "Max! An absolutely dominant match! Congratulations on winning the Shanghai leg! How does it feel?"

Verstappen leaned closer to the microphone: "Thanks, the car was in great form today. After the initial chaos of the first few laps, I was able to control the pace. But I must say, the fans here are absolutely crazy, the atmosphere is incredible, this is destined to be a great weekend."

After a brief interview, Button turned to Leclerc and asked about tire wear and being overtaken at the last moment. The Monacoian generously acknowledged Lin Feng's brilliant overtake at the end.

Then, Baskerton turned around and walked towards Lin Feng and Zhou Guanyu.

The camera focused on the two Chinese drivers who made history, and the cheers from the main stand reached their peak at that moment.

"Zhou Guanyu! Zhou Guanyu! Lin Feng! Lin Feng!"

The unified shouts shook the ground.

Barton looked at Zhou Guanyu, whose eyes were red and whose head was covered in sweat, and handed the microphone to Lin Feng.

"Lin! Second place! You just achieved the best result for a Chinese driver on home soil! Driving the Williams, you made the decisive victory over Ferrari in the final moments of the race. Tell us, what were you thinking as you sat in the cockpit watching the checkered flag wave?"

Lin Feng wiped the sweat from his face, looked at the camera, and showed a familiar smile.

"Actually, when I crossed the finish line, I only had one thought in my mind: I can finally go home. My neck is about to break."

This highly personal response elicited good-natured laughter from many fans in the stands who could understand English.

But Lin Feng quickly stopped smiling and turned his head to look at the five-star red flags filling the stands.

"But to be honest, Will, this car was incredibly fast today. We worked extremely hard all weekend to find the car's balance, and James and everyone on the team put in a tremendous amount of effort. To be able to get second place here, in Shanghai..."

Lin Feng's voice suddenly paused.

In his previous life, he struggled in youth racing, but due to a lack of sponsorship and a seat, he eventually had to leave the racing world with regret.

In this life, although he relied on the system to act ruthlessly and decisively, appearing on the surface to be a lawless "thug," only he knew the immense pressure he was under behind the scenes.

Looking at his compatriots cheering for him with all their might, Lin Feng's throat suddenly tightened, and his eyes began to sting uncontrollably.

He took a deep breath, composed himself, and continued into the microphone: "This achievement doesn't just belong to me, nor just to Williams. It belongs to everyone in the stands. It is your support that propelled this car to the podium."

Baskerton nodded, then solemnly handed the microphone to Zhou Guanyu.

Zhou Guanyu was still not completely calm. He looked at the camera, took the tissue Barton handed him, and wiped his eyes.

"Guanyu, this is your home track. You scored points here. The organizers specially arranged for you to stop here to receive the cheers of the home fans. What does this moment mean to you?"

Zhou Guanyu opened his mouth, his voice extremely hoarse.

"Twenty years..."

He only said those four words before tears welled up in his eyes again.

The entire venue fell silent instantly. Everyone stared at the young man sobbing uncontrollably on the big screen.

"Twenty years ago, in 2004, at the first Chinese Grand Prix, I was just a kid. I was holding Alonso's flag, sitting in section K of the grandstand. I watched the cars speed past me. At that moment, I told myself that I would become one of them someday."

As Zhou Guanyu spoke, he wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, but he couldn't stop crying.

"This road has been so difficult. It's been incredibly difficult. There were so many times I felt like I couldn't go on. Training abroad, no friends, not understanding the language, and facing so much skepticism. But today... today I finally did it. I drove home, I scored points at home. I didn't let you down!"

Zhou Guanyu suddenly raised his right fist and pounded it hard on the spot on his racing suit where the national flag was printed, and roared loudly at the stands.

That roar ignited tears in the eyes of 120,000 people in the audience.

In the stands, countless grown men had tears in their eyes, and some even cried out loud.

In the VIP viewing area, Chen Ya-fang was already sobbing uncontrollably, leaning on Lin Guo-qiang's shoulder. Gu Ailing also took off her sunglasses, constantly wiping the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.

Standing to the side, Lin Feng listened to Zhou Guanyu's sincere outpouring and looked at the sea of ​​red all around him.

He originally thought he was a heartless transmigrator, a player who used cheat codes to dominate the game. Last night, he was still using abstract emojis to discipline the racers in the group chat, and today at the start, he used reckless late braking at turn one to force his opponents to back down.

But at that moment, a strong sense of national pride and empathy struck him hard in the heart.

Lin Feng lowered his head, and tears fell unexpectedly onto the asphalt road beneath his feet.

He raised his hand and rubbed his eyes hard, trying to hide his loss of composure, but his reddened eyes and the tears streaming down his cheeks were impossible to conceal under the high-definition camera.

"Damn it, the wind on this track is too strong, it blew sand into my eyes," Lin Feng muttered under his breath, trying to salvage his usual persona.

Just then, a hand landed on Lin Feng's right shoulder.

Lin Feng turned his head and looked.

It's Verstappen.

The three-time world champion's eyes held only pure respect at that moment.

"Enjoy this moment, Lin. You deserve it." Verstappen gave Lin Feng a gentle smile and squeezed his shoulder firmly. "Your country will be proud of you."

On the other side, Leclerc also stepped forward.

This always sentimental young man from Monaco opened his arms and gave Zhou Guanyu a big hug.

"You ran exceptionally well, Zhou. You're a true hero today," Leclerc said, patting Zhou Guanyu on the back.

Then, Leclerc turned around and pulled Lin Feng into a hug.

This incredibly moving scene was forever captured by countless cameras and the lenses of hundreds of photographers on site.

On the straight road.

Verstappen, Lin Feng, Leclerc and Zhou Guanyu.

Four drivers, in four different racing suits, gathered together at this historic moment for Chinese motorsport.