F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

A Bombardier Global 6500 is flying smoothly over the Atlantic Ocean.

Lin Feng was slumped in the wide, soft leather airline seat, holding a half-finished iced Americano, staring blankly out the window.

As for why he didn't travel with the convoy, the story begins last night.

After attending the embassy's dinner, Lin Feng returned to his apartment and happened to run into Verstappen calling for people to run the iRacing simulator on Discord.

The two got carried away and started racing, competing fiercely on the Spa circuit until 4 a.m.

As a result, when the Williams motorcade chartered a plane to Montreal this morning, Lin Feng was still sleeping soundly in bed like a dead pig.

James Walls called him more than a dozen times at the boarding gate but no one answered. Finally, he got so angry that he cursed in a voicemail that he would throw him into the sea to feed the fish, and then took the rest of the group and flew away first.

When Lin Feng woke up, he found himself abandoned by the team and had no choice but to swallow his pride and send a distress signal in the drivers' group.

Just then, Toto Wolfe's private jet was scheduled to take off for Canada that afternoon, so Lin Feng, without hesitation, took a taxi straight to the airport and shamelessly hitched a ride on it.

The cabin was quiet.

Lewis Hamilton, wearing noise-canceling headphones, was flipping through a thick fashion magazine; George Russell was next to him watching past Canadian Grand Prix videos on a tablet; and Toto was sitting at the front desk processing emails.

Nobody paid any attention to Lin Feng.

This was exactly what Lin Feng wanted. He leaned back in his chair with his eyes wide open, looking like he was daydreaming to outsiders, but in reality he was frantically working on the system panel in his mind.

"System, check for new task."

A pale blue light screen unfolded on the retina.

[Main Quest Released: Conquer Montreal]

[Mission Requirements: Achieve a podium finish at the Gilles Villeneuve circuit and complete the race.]

[Failure Penalty: The host's hair and eyebrows will all fall out overnight, and the host will remain bald and eyebrowless for a full thirty days.]

Upon seeing this punishment, Lin Feng gasped and subconsciously touched his head.

System, I call myself Feng Legefu.

"Thirty days? And still no eyebrows? You might as well just make me withdraw from the competition! If I run the race with a 'braised egg' hairstyle, Norris will be laughing all the way to next year!" Lin Feng cursed inwardly.

The system did not respond.

Lin Feng gritted his teeth and opened the points pool.

Although I didn't make it to the podium in Monaco, I still have a lot of points left, enough for a ten-pull.

"Give me a prize! Give me something useful!"

Ten blind boxes exploded one after another on the light screen.

The first nine items are all white and blue trash, such as "Yuki Kakuta's height-increasing insoles" and "Horner's PR script manual".

Finally, the last one burst forth with a golden light.

[Congratulations, host, you have acquired the golden passive skill: Dancer on the Edge of the Champion Wall]

[Skill Description: Increases handling at the final corner of the Montreal circuit by 100%. The user can get infinitely close to the wall without colliding. This wall, which has caused countless world champions to fall, will become your personal stage.]

nice one!

Lin Feng was overjoyed.

The most difficult part of the Gilles Villeneuve circuit is the Champions Wall corner. If you dare to brake late there and hug the wall when exiting the corner, your lap time can definitely be improved by a lot.

He was so excited that he slapped his thigh and was about to jump up in celebration.

When he looked up, a magnified face was hovering less than ten centimeters from the tip of his nose.

Holy crap!

Lin Feng was so startled that he almost spilled his iced Americano on his crotch.

George Russell stared at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Lin, it's one thing to sleep with your eyes open, but why are you smiling like an idiot in your sleep? Are you dreaming about getting married?" Russell sat up, looking puzzled.

Hearing the noise, Hamilton took off his headphones, put down the magazine he was holding, and looked over with a smile.

"George, don't scare him. He's probably thinking about the scene of being surrounded by reporters at Montreal Airport," Hamilton joked with a laugh.

Lin Feng twitched his lips and placed his coffee cup on the small table: "Don't even mention Lewis. I can already guess what the media will write on their headlines tomorrow: 'Williams driver misses flight, secretly boards Mercedes jet, switch sides confirmed!'"

Russell, standing nearby, gloated and fanned the flames: "I think the headline could be even more sensational, like 'Lin Feng inspects Mercedes executives' vehicles ahead of schedule, forcing current drivers to resign.'"

Hamilton laughed heartily and adjusted his posture.

"Honestly, Lin, if you fly with Toto, people will definitely write all sorts of things. But it also shows that everyone's watching you. After I leave next year, this team really needs fresh blood. Tell me privately, are you really planning to come to our side next year?"

Russell immediately came over and nudged Lin Feng with his shoulder: "Come on, bro! If you come, we can move the emulator to the same lounge and play games online every night, and beat Max to a pulp."

Lin Feng rolled his eyes: "George, Mercedes signs drivers to win championships, not to let you find a roommate who spends all night at internet cafes."

Hearing the commotion, Toto, who had been sitting at the front working, closed his laptop.

He stood up, walked to an empty sofa next to the three of them, sat down, and crossed his legs.

"The question Lewis asked is actually the same question I wanted to ask," Toto said, looking at Lin Feng with a shrewd smile.

Lin Feng sat up straight, abandoning his previous playful attitude. He maintained the proper respect towards this racing team leader who had once created an eight-time champion dynasty.

Before Lin Feng could speak, Toto suddenly dropped a bombshell.

"Lin, you actually owe me a favor. Do you know why Ferrari didn't keep you after you won the championship in Jeddah at the beginning of the year, but Williams immediately gave you a permanent seat?"

Lin Feng paused for a moment, then shook his head. He had always thought that Williams had recognized his potential, and that he had also provided some assistance.

Toto picked up the sparkling water on the table, took a sip, and said slowly, "Ferrari thought you were too young at the time, and with Sainz about to recover, they didn't want to disrupt the balance within the team, and James was also hesitant at the time."

"Who convinced James?" Hamilton was also intrigued; it was the first time he had heard this inside story.

“Me,” Toto pointed to himself, “I called James. I told him that if you don’t sign this Chinese kid, you’re the biggest idiot in the entire paddock.”

Hamilton had a knowing look on his face.

Russell stared wide-eyed at Toto, then at Lin Feng.

Lin Feng felt a surge of turmoil in his heart.

He never expected that his starting point in this parallel world, besides the newbie gift package from the system, would actually be aided by the Mercedes team leader.

Toto arranged for Lin Feng to work at Williams, Mercedes' customer fleet, which clearly meant that Williams was being used as a training base for Lin Feng and was being used for preliminary investigation.

"Mr. Wolf, James has never mentioned this to me." Lin Feng chuckled dryly, thinking to himself that the old man was really good at keeping things to himself.

"James is a proud man; of course he won't tell you he took my advice," Toto shrugged. "So, now back to the original question, what are your plans for next year?"

Lin Feng remained silent for a moment. He glanced at Russell, then at Hamilton, and finally fixed his gaze on Tottenham.

"I want to go to Mercedes." Lin Feng's tone was calm and firm. "I want to drive a race car that can truly compete for the world championship, instead of having to calculate how to keep the tires on and how to block other cars in every race."

Toto didn't speak, but listened quietly.

"But not now," Lin Feng changed the subject.

"I don't like owing favors to others. James gave me the seat despite the pressure, and the entire Williams team often stayed up all night to cooperate with my chassis modifications. It wouldn't be fair to them if I just walked away now, or signed a preliminary contract with you right now."

At this point, Lin Feng leaned forward slightly.

"I need this half-season to prove myself. I want to take Williams to a ranking they haven't dared to dream of in recent years, and that's my way of repaying James."

"By the second half of this season, after I've won enough podiums, I hope you'll come to me with a max contract and sign it."

These words were spoken with great conviction.

Russell looked at Lin Feng and silently gave him a thumbs up.

Hamilton smiled with satisfaction. He had also faced a lot of criticism when he switched from McLaren to Mercedes, so he admired Lin Feng's integrity in letting his results speak for themselves.

Toto Wolfe sat there with his eyes shining, staring at Lin Feng for a full half minute.

Then, the shrewd Austrian businessman suddenly burst into laughter.

"Good, very good." Toto nodded in satisfaction. "Lin, I like your confidence. I promise you, I will keep the Mercedes spot until the end of the season."

Toto stood up and walked back to his desk.

The atmosphere became very relaxed for the rest of the flight.

Russell stubbornly insisted on dragging Lin Feng to play a racing game on the tablet. The two of them bumped each other off the track in the game, shouting and yelling, so loudly that Hamilton had to put his noise-canceling headphones back on.

Several hours later, the private plane began to descend, passing through the thick clouds.

Outside the porthole, a wide river came into view, and on a long, narrow artificial island in the middle of the river, the outline of the Gilles Villeneuve circuit was clearly visible.

Montreal, Canada.

The plane landed smoothly at Trudeau International Airport.

As soon as the group stepped out of the VIP passage, flashbulbs went off like crazy, and sports reporters stationed at the airport swarmed over like zombies, shoving their microphones at Toto and Lin Feng as they walked together.

"Toto! Lin Feng is traveling on your private jet. Does this mean Mercedes has signed him?"

"Lin! Are you openly defying Williams?"

Lin Feng, wearing sunglasses, with his hands in his pockets and a long face, showed no intention of answering.

Russell squeezed in front of the camera, blocking Lin Feng, and shouted to the reporters, "Stop guessing, guys! He just overslept!"

This answer clearly failed to satisfy the media's appetite, and the reporters followed them all the way to the parking lot.

The airport chase only ended when Lin Feng got into the car sent by the Williams team to pick him up.

Looking at the rapidly receding Montreal street scene outside the car window, Lin Feng touched his eyebrows.

The system's vicious punishment of having no eyebrows and no hair still hangs over my head.

In this weekend's game, he not only needs to prove himself to Toto, but also needs to save his hair.

Here I come, Champions Wall!

Lin Feng silently recited a sentence in his mind.