F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

With the conclusion of the Belgian Grand Prix, the first half of the F1 season has finally come to an end.

The summer break, which lasts for nearly a month, has officially begun.

On the highway leading to Brussels International Airport, Zhou Guanyu was driving a rented Porsche Panamera, while Lin Feng sat in the passenger seat, issuing commands through his mobile phone.

"Yes, Brother Zhou, there's still half a watermelon and a few boxes of unfinished salad in the fridge of my apartment in Fontvieille. You'd better find a housekeeper to clean it up quickly, otherwise when I go back in a month, there might be biological weapons growing in there."

Lin Feng directed his agent without any psychological burden.

Zhou Kai, on the other end of the phone, had long since lost his temper. He didn't even have the energy to be angry at Lin Feng's behavior of treating him like a servant.

"Understood, young master." Zhou Kai's voice carried a sense of world-weariness. "I've already contacted the cleaning company. While you're back in the country, behave yourself, eat less street food, and don't get an upset stomach that might affect your competition. Also, I've sent you the electronic versions of the endorsement contracts; remember to take a look."

"Okay, okay, I'm hanging up now."

Lin Feng hung up the phone, tossed it into the storage compartment, and stretched lazily.

"Finally, I'm on vacation. After running around to so many events, I feel like my spine is going to fall apart."

Lin Feng turned to look at Zhou Guanyu, who was driving, and found that the man's expression was not very good.

From the moment he set off, Zhou Guanyu remained silent. Although he had been lucky enough to finish the race safely in the previous one, his eyes were now filled with an unyielding sorrow.

"Brother Guanyu, what's wrong? We're about to go home, but you seem even more upset than if you lost the game?" Lin Feng put away his nonchalant attitude and asked with concern.

Zhou Guanyu looked at the road ahead and remained silent for a while before letting out a soft sigh.

"Lin Feng, Sober... doesn't plan to renew my contract."

The words were spoken calmly, but in the cramped carriage, they sounded like a muffled thunderclap.

Lin Feng was stunned. He opened his mouth, but for a moment he didn't know what to say.

That's how brutal the F1 paddock is.

Audi is about to take full control of the Sauber team. The major reshuffle at the top and the formulation of a new strategy have ultimately made Zhou Guanyu, a driver who has worked diligently in this seat for three years, a victim of the alternation of capital and power.

"Has the notification come down?" Lin Feng asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, the agent team has already talked to them, and it's basically hopeless. Hulkenberg has already signed, and they want to reserve the other spot for a rookie." Zhou Guanyu chuckled self-deprecatingly, a hint of resentment flashing in his eyes. "Actually, I guessed it a long time ago."

Lin Feng looked at Zhou Guanyu's profile and felt a pang of unease.

As one of only two Chinese drivers currently in the paddock, he knows all too well how difficult Zhou Guanyu's journey has been. Bearing the immense expectations of domestic fans, he drives a race car that feels like a tractor, struggling to survive in the cracks.

"What about next year? Do other teams still have a chance? Haas? Or Williams?" Lin Feng eagerly helped him plan.

"There aren't many seats left, and they're all being eyed by their own youth academy graduates or people who have brought in funding themselves." Zhou Guanyu shook his head, his tone weary and melancholic. "My agent has been trying to help me make contacts these past few days. Ferrari has extended an offer, wanting me to go there as a reserve driver."

"A reserve driver?" Lin Feng frowned.

Retiring from racing to prepare for the season means potentially not touching the wheel of a real race for the entire next year, spending the time only on simulators, or only being able to step in when the racing driver encounters problems. For a driver in their prime, this psychological adjustment is enormous.

"Ferrari is a luxury brand after all. Going there to build up reserves is a way to stay in this industry. It's better than leaving completely." Zhou Guanyu forced a smile and patted the steering wheel. "At least we can watch you continue to dominate in the paddock."

Lin Feng couldn't listen anymore. He grabbed Zhou Guanyu's shoulder and put his hand on it.

"Brother Guanyu, don't be so pessimistic. There's still a whole month left in the summer break, and the driver market can change in an instant. A Ferrari reserve driver can be a safety net, but there's definitely still a chance for a regular seat." Lin Feng looked at him earnestly. "If there are any vacancies at Williams, I'll definitely recommend you to James first."

Zhou Guanyu felt Lin Feng's sincerity, and the gloom in his heart dissipated a little.

"Thanks, bro." Zhou Guanyu smiled. "Actually, I'm not that fragile. Racing is a sport about regrets. To be able to compete in this top-level series with only twenty people worldwide for three years, I'm already luckier than 99% of the world's racing drivers. I'll give it my all for the remaining half of the season."

"Yes, that's the attitude!" Lin Feng slapped his thigh hard. "In the second half of the season, let's work together and make those short-sighted team owners regret it!"

The atmosphere in the carriage finally eased. The two began to talk about their plans after returning home, complaining to each other about how unpalatable the food in Europe was.

More than an hour later, the Porsche drove into the drop-off area of ​​the terminal at Brussels International Airport.

The two took their luggage from the trunk.

As they entered the departure hall, it was time to part ways. Zhou Guanyu was flying back to Shanghai, while Lin Feng's flight was bound for Beijing.

"I'm going this way to the first-class check-in counter," Zhou Guanyu said, pointing to the empty VIP lane on the left.

Lin Feng nodded, pulled his carry-on suitcase, turned around and pointed to the long queue of economy class passengers on his right.

"I'll go this way then. See you back in China, Brother Guanyu."

Zhou Guanyu had only taken two steps when he suddenly stopped, turned around and looked at Lin Feng walking towards the sea of ​​people. He walked back with an incredulous expression.

"Lin Feng, are you crazy?" Zhou Guanyu looked him up and down as if he were an alien. "You're queuing for economy class? You didn't buy a business class ticket?"

"No, economy class is cheaper," Lin Feng replied matter-of-factly.

Zhou Guanyu's eyes widened, his voice rising eight octaves: "You, an F1 driver with multi-million dollar endorsements and ranked in the top group on the leaderboard, are going to squeeze into economy class for over ten hours?! Don't you care about your back? Do you have masochistic tendencies?"

"Oh, you don't understand." Lin Feng waved his hand seriously. "I've always felt that as long as you get to your destination, it doesn't matter where you sit on an airplane. One business class ticket can buy several economy class tickets. Wouldn't it be better to use the money I save to eat Peking duck a few more times when I get back?"

Zhou Guanyu was completely speechless.

He'd seen stingy people before, but never one this stingy of a billionaire. He'd just rented a two-million-euro apartment in Monaco, and the next day he was even trying to save money on his return flight home.

"I'm really impressed with you. If paparazzi in China were to take pictures of you like this, tomorrow's trending topic would probably be 'Williams owes drivers wages, Lin Feng is forced to return to China in economy class.'" Zhou Guanyu covered his face, unable to bear the sight.

"Let them write whatever they want, I call this frugality." Lin Feng waved at him. "Hurry up and check in, bro. See you in Shanghai later!"

Zhou Guanyu shook his head helplessly and dragged his luggage toward the VIP counter.

Lin Feng put on a mask and baseball cap, and obediently lined up in the economy class queue. It wasn't that he was truly short of money; it was just that he was used to being poor in his previous life, and that ingrained habit of being frugal was something he couldn't easily change. Besides, his physical condition had been enhanced by the system, so a dozen or so hours in economy class was hardly a torment for him.

Meanwhile, across the ocean in Los Angeles, USA.

Eileen Gu, dressed in comfortable sportswear, was stuffing the last ski into her huge checked bag.

"Eileen, are you really not coming to Miami with us for vacation?" her roommate Chloe asked, leaning against the door with a hint of regret.

"I'm not going. I need to go back to China." Gu Ailing zipped up her jacket, dusted off her hands, and her face was full of undisguised anticipation.

"Is it to go back and see your big racer?" Chloe teased with a mischievous grin.

"Get lost!" Gu Ailing threw a cushion at him, her face flushed. "I have serious business to attend to back in Beijing, and I haven't been home in ages."

She picked up her phone from the table, and a WeChat message from Lin Feng lit up on the screen.

[Lin Feng: I'm at the airport, getting ready to board. See you in Beijing.]

Gu Ailing quickly replied.

[Gu Ailing: I'm also getting ready to depart. Let me know you've landed safely. See you in Beijing.]

As the roar of engines echoed across different airport runways, several passenger planes, each carrying its own thoughts and hopes, soared into the sky.