F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

As the crown jewel of Formula 1, the Monaco Grand Prix is ​​more than just a racing competition; it's a carnival party for the world's top billionaires and celebrities.

On Saturday morning, three hours before qualifying began, the paddock was already so crowded that it was almost impossible to move.

Lin Feng, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt from the Williams team, struggled through the crowd. It took him almost fifteen minutes to walk the short 200-meter passage.

As he passed the Red Bull Racing pit lane, he saw Tesla CEO Elon Musk holding a glass of champagne, chatting animatedly with Christian Horner, while several Middle Eastern-styled oil tycoons stood nearby.

McLaren's reception area was even more extravagant, with Tom Holland, who plays Spider-Man, wearing McLaren's orange headphones and excitedly mimicking his famous web-slinging move next to the race car.

In the Aston Martin's dining area, Lin Feng also spotted Gordon Ramsay.

The grumpy Scottish chef was frowning and pointing at a piece of Wellington steak on his plate, making the catering manager across from him break out in a cold sweat.

"This place is practically a zoo." Lin Feng lowered his hat brim, casually brushed off a few internet celebrities who tried to take photos with him, and finally squeezed into Williams' rest area.

Gu Ailing did not go to the VIP section today, but sat inside the P room. She was wearing a simple white linen shirt and denim shorts, and was watching the show with noise-canceling headphones on.

Seeing Lin Feng enter, she took off her headphones: "How did the red carpet go, big star?"

"Don't even mention it. I almost stepped on Katy Perry's trailing skirt just now. Wearing a floor-length dress in the repair area, are these people's brains filled with styrofoam?" Lin Feng picked up the water bottle on the table and took a big gulp.

James Walls emerged from the engineers' conference room, his expression far from relaxed.

"Lin, Alex, come to the meeting," James called out.

Lin Feng and Alben immediately dropped their joking attitude and went into the conference room.

"Gentlemen, the situation is dire." James pointed to the Monaco circuit map on the screen. "Our car's wheelbase is too long, and the steering angle is insufficient. Driving it on this track, which is the narrowest in the entire paddock and has the most low-speed corners, is like driving a bus through a supermarket aisle."

Alben nodded with a wry smile: "I tried it during the third practice session. I almost couldn't turn the steering wheel properly at the hairpin bend."

"The lesson from Imola is still fresh in our minds." James looked at Lin Feng, his tone serious. "Lin, I know you have the ability to push your car to the limit. But this is Monaco, there are no run-off areas on either side of the track, and the margin for error is zero. What we need is to finish the race safely and secure a better starting position."

"Understood, boss." Lin Feng gave an OK sign.

At 2 PM, qualifying round Q1 officially began.

"Welcome to the world's most captivating and dangerous circuit—Monaco!" David Croft's voice rang out precisely on time. "Today the sun is shining brightly, and the track temperature is forty-two degrees Celsius. Qualifying here means everything, because overtaking will be virtually an impossible task in Sunday's race!"

Martin Brendel chimed in: "That's right. We're seeing the drivers gradually leaving the pit lane. Finding clean air on the streets and avoiding being blocked by slower cars is a huge challenge for the team strategy team."

Lin Feng drove the race car onto the track.

Having learned from Imola's engine failure and subsequent withdrawal from the race, and with James's pre-race instructions, Lin Feng completely abandoned his reckless running style this time.

He has completely internalized the system's "Legendary Chassis Tuning Mastery" into a delicate tactile sensation.

Instead of pushing yourself to the limit at the braking point, focus on finding the smoothest cornering trajectory.

"Lin Feng has entered the swimming pool bend! This is the most challenging part of the entire track for drivers to test their courage!" Croft shouted.

In the video, a dark blue Williams race car speeds into a narrow series of bends at 200 kilometers per hour. Lin Feng's racing line is precise; the right front wheel of the car hugs the inside curb as it passes, while the left rear wheel almost scrapes the outside guardrail as it exits the bend.

"Perfect line! He didn't try to achieve absolute speed, but he drove this car, which is clearly not suited for Monaco, with the feel of a ballet!" Brendel exclaimed.

Q1 concluded with Lin Feng securing a safe advancement, finishing in 13th place. His teammate, Alben, however, encountered traffic congestion at the last minute, unfortunately finishing in 17th and being eliminated.

Entering Q2, the competition became fierce.

As the rubber builds up, the track's grip increases rapidly, and everyone's lap times are getting faster and faster.

"Paul, put on the last set of brand new soft tires. I need a little extra grip to get through the penultimate corner," Lin Feng calmly instructed over the radio.

"Roger that. There's a clean window two seconds ahead after you exit the station. Go, Lin."

Lin Feng took a deep breath and floored the accelerator as he entered the tunnel.

The roar of the engine echoed back and forth in the enclosed tunnel, deafeningly loud.

As I rushed out of the tunnel, the blinding sunlight instantly filled my goggles.

Apply heavy brakes, downshift, pass through the deceleration bend, and enter the tobacco bend.

Lin Feng handled every corner cleanly and precisely, leaving no unnecessary slippage. Although this car couldn't compete with Red Bull and Ferrari for the top spot, he managed to snatch precious fractions of a second from those mid-table teams.

"Time's up! Let's see Lin Feng's time!" Croft stared at the timer screen. "1 minute 11.902 seconds! He's moved up to ninth! He's pushed Lewis Hamilton down to eleventh! Lin Feng, driving the Williams, has unbelievably broken into Q3!"

A cheer erupted from Williams's room. James slammed his hand on the table and let out a long sigh of relief.

In the final Q3 showdown, Lin Feng did not push the issue any further.

With his tires worn out and the car's potential completely exhausted, he steadily made a valid lap, ultimately securing P8's starting position.

Leclerc, playing at home, secured pole position in qualifying, and the entire city of Monaco erupted in wild celebrations.

After qualifying, Lin Feng parked his car in the closed parking area and removed the steering wheel.

When he climbed out of the cockpit, his back was completely soaked. The fatigue from being so focused was even more intense than after finishing a race.

He took off his helmet and walked into the mixed zone for media interviews.

The place was already bustling with noise, with reporters from all walks of life holding microphones, blocking the narrow passageway completely.

Lin Feng had just walked in front of the F1TV camera and hadn't even had time to adjust the zipper of his racing suit when he saw Carlos Sainz speaking to the camera in the interview area not far across the street.

Norris, like a thieving groundhog, crept up on Sainz from behind.

Norris stretched out his right hand and, with lightning speed, grabbed Sainz's groin. Then, like a child who had just pulled off a prank, he burst into laughter and ran away.

"Holy shit! Lando, you bastard!" Sainz was so startled by the sudden attack that he jumped up and cursed at the camera.

Lin Feng saw this but forced himself not to laugh out loud.

Norris and Sainz, former teammates, thoroughly enjoyed this common bird-stealing prank in the paddock.

Official reporter Lawrence Barreto walked up to Lin Feng with a microphone.

"Lin, congratulations. On what was considered a very unfavorable weekend for Williams, you actually managed to get the car into Q3. Starting from P8 in Monaco means a huge opportunity. Can you share your secret with us?"

Lin Feng took a deep breath and looked at the camera.

"Actually, there's no secret, Lawrence. The main thing is that I was afraid of damaging the car, and Team Manager James would make me pay for the repairs. This car really struggles in low-speed corners, so I could only try to keep it smooth and avoid close contact with the guardrails. Getting a P8, I personally think, is already a 120 out of 100 performance."

Lawrence chuckled and continued, "What are your goals for tomorrow's race? Are you planning to make any moves at the start?"

"Overtaking at the start in Monaco? That would require a serious mistake from the drivers ahead of us." Lin Feng shook his head realistically. "Tomorrow, it'll most likely be a straight-up affair. Holding onto my position and bringing back points, that's my only goal."

Just as Lin Feng was speaking fluently into the microphone, his body completely relaxed.

He was completely unaware that Norris, who had just attacked Sainz, had not gone far.

The kid went around in circles, wearing that conspicuous papaya orange racing suit, with a smug grin on his face, and silently crept up behind Lin Feng.

Lin Feng was saying, "Our team's strategy group needs to carefully calculate the pit stop windows tonight..."

suddenly!

A hand reached out from behind, with extreme precision and cunning, between his legs, and scooped upwards with a sharp grab!

"I***!"

Lin Feng swore in fluent Chinese, and then, as if he were on an ejection seat, he jumped half a meter high.

Upon landing, he clutched his crotch and abruptly turned around.

Norris had already run five or six meters away, and was turning around to make a face at Lin Feng, laughing so hard he couldn't straighten up.

"Lando! Are you looking for death?!" Lin Feng was so angry that his nose was crooked, and there was no trace of the cool and composed image he had when facing the camera just now.

Lawrence stood to the side with a microphone, desperately trying to suppress his laughter, while the photographer shamelessly pointed the lens at the scene of Lin Feng clutching his crotch and jumping up and down.

"Not bad reaction, Lin! I think your defensive awareness at the start was even faster than on the track!" Norris stood at a safe distance and mocked loudly.

Lin Feng gritted his teeth, took two deep breaths to calm himself down, and gave Norris the middle finger.

"You just wait, you better pray you don't get in front of me in line tomorrow. If I don't force you into the wall at Turn One, I'm not Lin Feng!"

"Hahaha, you'd better be able to keep up with my tail first!" Norris waved triumphantly and disappeared into the crowd.

Lin Feng rubbed his inner thigh, turned around awkwardly, and looked at the reporter who was trying not to laugh and whose face was flushed.

"Can we cut that part out of the broadcast?" Lin Feng tried to salvage the last bit of his pride.

Lawrence ruthlessly shattered his illusions: "Sorry, Lin, this is a live broadcast. The whole world just saw you get ambushed by Lando."

Lin Feng looked up at the sky speechlessly, completely giving up the struggle.