F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

Chapter 92 Reminiscences of Bygone Days

After several rounds of drinks and five courses of food,

The smoky aroma of barbecue mixed with the evaporation of alcohol, making the private room extremely noisy.

After downing several cases of chilled beer, the boys' faces flushed slightly, and their voices grew louder and louder.

Generally speaking, in the middle and later stages of such a gathering, the regular program will inevitably be reminiscing about the glorious past.

"Hey, do you guys remember how strict our homeroom teacher was with discipline back in the second year of junior high?!"

Squad leader Zhang Qiang held his wine glass, his tongue already a little tied.

"Back then, we had morning reading at 7:30 every day. Anyone who was even a minute late had to stand in the hallway as punishment!"

"How could I not remember!" Zhao Peng slurred, his face flushed from drinking the most today. "The one I remember most clearly is Lin Feng. Back then, this guy would sit in the last row of the classroom every day reading car magazines, and he would disappear in the afternoons, all climbing over the wall to go go-karting."

The topic once again circled back to Lin Feng in the corner.

Zhao Peng let out a burp, looking drunkenly at Lin Feng, who was gnawing on ribs.

"So, brothers, you have to make the right choices every step of your life. Look at Lin Feng. If he had put that same energy he used to skip classes into his studies, even if he only got into a junior college, he wouldn't be driving long-distance trucks under the scorching sun now, right? That's reality. If you fall behind in one step, you'll fall behind in every step."

"Exactly, there's not even air conditioning. Just thinking about it is torture." Another boy chimed in, "Lin Feng, buddy, let me give you a piece of advice: while you're still young, you should hurry up and enroll in an adult self-study program. Running a sports car is a young person's game; your body simply won't be able to handle it when you get older."

Lin Feng tore off a tissue to wipe his mouth, almost laughing out of anger.

"Okay, the leaders are right to criticize. I'll go buy two textbooks to take a look at tomorrow."

Lin Feng went along with their conversation, casually flipping a piece of pork belly on the grill with tongs, and continued chatting with Li Hao and Wang Wei beside him: "This piece of meat is cooked, Fatty, don't try to take it from me, I've been eyeing it for ages."

While the boys were talking animatedly on one side, a few girls huddled together on the other, their conversation having long since shifted from school gossip to the entertainment industry.

"Hey, have you guys seen the news? Gu Ailing is back in Beijing!" Liu Meng excitedly shared with the girls next to her, holding her phone.

"I saw her! I love her so much! She's so beautiful and cool!" A girl wearing glasses came over. "I heard she's dating? I think her boyfriend is also an athlete, a race car driver, what's his name again—oh right! His name is also Lin Feng!"

Upon hearing this, several girls subconsciously glanced at Lin Feng, who was eating with his head down in the corner, and then burst into laughter.

"There are so many people in the world with the same name. Our classmate Lin Feng drives a ride-hailing car for long distances, while another Lin Feng drives a top-of-the-line race car. The difference is like comparing heaven and earth."

Liu Meng opened Weibo and found a photo. It was a "famous scene" that had gone viral globally a while ago—

On the podium at Silverstone Circuit in the UK, Lin Feng, Hamilton, Russell, and Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff posed for a selfie, all soaking wet and holding champagne.

"Here, this is it." Liu Meng handed her phone screen to the girl next to her. "These people are all big shots in the racing world. The one with black hair in the middle is Gu Ailing's boyfriend."

Liu Meng stared at the young man on the screen, who was laughing wildly, for a while, then her brows furrowed slightly.

Although the young man in the photo was soaked to the bone, his eyes and brows revealed an undeniable sharpness.

Liu Meng put her phone away, then turned around and carefully examined her junior high school classmate Lin Feng, whose cheeks were puffed out like a hamster's.

Face shape, jawline, even those thick eyebrows —

"The more I look at it, the more it seems... a bit like it?" Liu Meng muttered to herself.

"What do you mean, 'looks like'?" The girl next to her slapped her, covering her mouth and laughing. "Are you drunk and seeing things? The person in that photo is a multi-millionaire winning a trophy with a foreigner. And look at this guy in our class. If looking like someone makes you a world champion, then the guy selling pancakes downstairs looks like Daniel Wu."

After hearing this, Liu Meng also felt that her idea was absurd and somewhat laughable.

She shook her head and chuckled, "Yeah, what am I thinking? I guess I just have a very ordinary face."

She casually locked her phone screen, banishing the absurd thought from her mind.

The atmosphere in the private room remained noisy.

Just as Lin Feng put a piece of golden-brown roasted beef tongue into his mouth, his phone, which was on the table, suddenly vibrated violently.

A nickname appeared on the screen: Crapinto.

Lin Feng swallowed the meat in his mouth, wiped his hands, pressed the answer button, and held the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Franco, what's up?" Lin Feng asked casually.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a deafening roar erupted from the receiver, so loud it was as if a stun grenade had exploded right next to Lin Feng's ear.

"Bro! It's official! Ocon is going to the Haas team next year!"

The sound was so loud that Lin Feng was jolted and instinctively held the phone half a meter away from his ear, but Crapinto's loud voice still came through clearly.

"My agent just got a call from the Alpine team's management! Bro! I'll probably have a regular racing seat next year! I won't be a reserve driver anymore!"

Lin Feng's eyes lit up instantly upon hearing this.

For any reserve driver struggling on the edge of the paddock, securing a race seat is arguably the greatest leap of their career.

Lin Feng was genuinely happy for his follower and naturally switched the language channel on his phone.

"Well done, bro! I knew you'd take that position eventually! That Frenchman finally moved on!"

Lin Feng held his phone, his face beaming with joy, and spoke very quickly.

"Alpine's car is a bit slow, but it's a perfect stepping stone for you. When we get to the Netherlands after the summer break, it's on me! We have to find a good place to have a big meal and celebrate!"

On the other end of the phone, Clapinto was still excitedly shouting, "No problem! See you in the Netherlands! I'm so excited I want to go downstairs and run a marathon!"

"Go run, just don't twist your ankle, that's all."

Lin Feng laughed and hung up the phone, tossing it back onto the table.

"This kid has finally made it." Lin Feng was in a great mood and picked up his chopsticks to continue eating meat.

however.

The moment he looked up, the chopsticks in his hand froze in mid-air.

The entire private room was deathly silent.

The twenty-odd junior high school classmates who were just talking and drinking together were now frozen in place, as if someone had pressed the pause button.

Only the pork belly on the baking tray was still sizzling.

More than twenty pairs of eyes stared at Lin Feng. Their eyes were filled with shock and confusion, as if they had seen aliens descend upon Earth.

Zhao Peng's hand, holding a beer glass, hovered in mid-air, his mouth slightly open.

Liu Meng stared wide-eyed, as if she didn't recognize the person in front of her.

After a brief silence, a collective gasp erupted from the private room.

"Lin Feng—" Zhang Qiang swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly, "You just—were you speaking English?"

"And it sounds like you even speak Spanish!" A girl from the foreign language department sitting next to Liu Meng exclaimed in shock. "Your trills and pronunciation are even more authentic than our foreign teacher's! What's with your accent?!"

"Didn't you not even finish high school?" Zhao Peng finally snapped out of his daze, looking at him incredulously. "With your fluency, even a TEM-8 (Test for English Majors-Band 8) student might not be able to speak this smoothly, right? And what were you talking about on the phone just now—Haas, Alpine, the Netherlands—who were you actually calling?"

The contrast is just too great.

A junior high school dropout, whom they considered to be at the bottom of society, effortlessly delivered an extremely professional bilingual conversation in front of a group of high-achieving students.

This is even more outrageous than seeing a sow climb a tree!

Seeing the horrified expressions on everyone's faces, Lin Feng finally realized what was happening.

Damn, that was too hasty.

In my excitement, I forgot to maintain my facade in front of these classmates.

Li Hao and Wang Wei frantically gave Lin Feng meaningful glances, as if to say: Dude, you messed up your act, now let's see how you cover it up!

Lin Feng's eyes darted around.

His expression showed no panic, but rather a helpless, bitter smile. He put down his chopsticks, sighed deeply, picked up the iced cola next to him, took a sip, and moistened his throat.

"Hey, what's the big deal?"

Lin Feng leaned back in his chair and started rambling on and on.

"As I just said, I run cross-border long-haul logistics, mainly the Central Asia and Europe route."

He pointed to his phone and began to ramble on and on with a straight face.

"Do you think being a cross-border driver is easy? Once you get to the border, the warehouse managers and dispatchers there are all foreigners! Some speak English, some speak Spanish. If you can't understand them, they simply won't load or unload your goods, and sometimes you'll even get harassed by the locals."

The students in the private room listened in stunned silence, even slowing their breathing.

"I have no choice but to do this to make a living." Lin Feng shrugged, pointing to his head. "I can only listen to the radio in the car every day and memorize translation software by rote. I'm dealing with those foreigners every day, and over the years, I've been forced to pick up this little bit of broken foreign language. What's the use of having a good pronunciation? It's all just to get the freight payment."

"Then—what are those Haas and Alpine you were talking about earlier?" Liu Meng couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, those two are local European logistics and forwarding companies we often work with." Lin Feng changed the two F1 teams without blinking. "It was just a call from one of my Argentinian coworkers. He finally made it from being a porter and is going to be sent to Haas to drive a truck. I'm so happy for him. We've agreed to have a local fast food meal together next time I deliver goods to a Dutch port to celebrate."

His words were reasonable and logical, and even carried a touching glimpse of how working-class people support each other in a foreign land.

The private room fell silent again, and everyone looked at each other in bewilderment.

Zhao Peng was silent for a moment, then picked up his wine glass and sighed sincerely.

"Lin Feng, I never imagined international freight forwarding was so cutthroat. To make a living, you actually taught yourself a foreign language. Brother, I admire your tenacity. This drink is for you!"

"Yes, yes, life is tough," Zhang Qiang sighed. "Lin Feng must have suffered a lot these past few years."

Seeing the group of high-achieving students completely bewildered by his words, Lin Feng suppressed a laugh and raised his glass to clink with theirs.

"Everyone's had a tough time, cheers! The meat's almost burnt, let's eat it quickly."

Lin Feng sat down, picked up a piece of meat, and stuffed it into his mouth, concealing his accomplishment and fame.

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