F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

8 PM.

Lin Feng, carrying a takeout order of fish and chips, pushed open the apartment door.

This is the accommodation that Williams' team rented for him in Oxfordshire, only a 20-minute drive from the Grove training ground.

The apartment is a standard two-bedroom unit with an open kitchen and all the necessary furniture, but since we just moved in, it doesn't feel very lived-in yet.

Lin Feng casually tossed the keys onto the shoe cabinet in the entryway, changed into slippers, walked to the dining table, sat down, and opened the greasy-smelling dinner box.

I had just taken a bite of the tasteless fried cod when my phone rang.

The screen displayed the name of agent Zhou Kai.

Lin Feng sighed and answered the phone.

"Are you settled in?" Zhou Kai's voice sounded quite energetic, though the background noise was a bit loud, suggesting he was in an airport waiting room.

"Just got back to the apartment and am enjoying a taste of British cuisine." Lin Feng swallowed the dried bonito flakes in his mouth, picked up his water glass, and took a big gulp. "You're back in China?"

"At Heathrow Airport, flying to Shanghai immediately." Zhou Kai spoke quickly. "Staying in the UK won't help you with the track matters. There are a bunch of contracts waiting for me to negotiate in China. I'm here today mainly to update you on the commercial progress."

"Get to the point." Lin Feng cut straight to the chase.

"I like your vulgarity." Zhou Kai chuckled. "We've shortlisted three companies so far. The first is a leading domestic new energy vehicle manufacturer. They're planning to launch a pure electric coupe that emphasizes sporty performance and want to sign you as their global brand ambassador."

Lin Feng raised an eyebrow: "Pure electric? Me, someone who drives a gasoline-powered race car, endorsing a pure electric vehicle? Don't their PR department think that's incongruous?"

"Brother, this is the era of new energy. What you drive on the track doesn't matter. What matters is your reputation and brand. If you don't make that money, plenty of others will." Zhou Kai rolled his eyes on the other end of the phone. "The second company is Richard Miller. They want to make a limited edition co-branded watch for you. With the sponsorship fee and sales commission, you can probably make 25 million over two years. The third company is a sports drink. Ten million over three years."

"Okay, you handle it. Make sure you read the contract carefully, and make sure there aren't any unfair terms that would force me to unconditionally cooperate with their offline promotions. I don't have that much time to be their mascot." Lin Feng poked at the fries on his plate with his fork.

"Don't worry about that, I'm a professional. But there's a big problem now." Zhou Kai's tone became serious. "The brand is very dissatisfied with your social media data during their background check."

"I'm not satisfied with their money, but they're not satisfied with my data?" Lin Feng chuckled.

"Nonsense! Look at your Weibo. Your last post was three years ago when you were racing F4 in Europe. The picture was so blurry you couldn't even see your face. You don't even have a Douyin account, and you can't be found on Xiaohongshu. This is the era of monetizing traffic. You're an F1 Grand Prix champion, but you have less than 100,000 active followers across all platforms. How are brands going to convert that?"

Zhou Kai scolded him with exasperation, "Look how well Guanyu manages his social media! He posts about his outfits and daily life, and his fans are incredibly engaged. And you? You're like a caveman online!"

"I'm not an internet celebrity, I'm a race car driver. Can't I let my lap times speak for themselves?"

"Lap time is the foundation, traffic is the leverage!" Zhou Kai said with exasperation. "Immediately, right now, register me on Douyin, Weibo, and Xiaohongshu. The account name should be 'Lin Feng_F1'. I've already contacted people inside the platforms. After you register, send me your phone number, and they'll give you the green light for official verification."

Lin Feng sighed.

He compromised because of the exorbitant endorsement fee.

After hanging up the phone, he opened the app store and downloaded all the mainstream social media apps.

I registered with my mobile phone number, filled in basic information, and uploaded an official half-body photo from today's Williams press conference as my profile picture.

After everything was settled, he sent the account information to Zhou Kai.

Less than five minutes.

Lin Feng refreshed the page, and a yellow "V" verification mark appeared next to his name on his Douyin profile.

The certification description states: Official driver for the Williams F1 team, 2024 Saudi Grand Prix champion.

Immediately after, Zhou Kai sent a WeChat message: "[Verification done. Now, post your first status update immediately. Don't post those dry, official captions; fans these days like to see real-life sharing. Just post something random, say hello to your fans, and get the buzz going.]"

Lin Feng held his phone and looked around the empty apartment.

What are you filming?

Should I take a picture of this house that doesn't even have a potted plant? Or should I take a picture of the access card I just received?

His gaze fell on the half-eaten box of fish and chips on the table.

Lin Feng twitched the corner of his mouth, picked up his phone, and opened the camera.

He first took a close-up photo of the appalling dinner, then flipped the camera and pointed it at himself.

He was still wearing a dark blue polo shirt from the Williams team, his hair was slightly messy, and the background behind him was the monotonous white walls of an apartment.

He pressed the record button.

"Hello everyone, I'm Lin Feng. Today is my first day working at the Williams Racing Team."

After he finished speaking, he switched the camera back to the food on the table.

"Just got off the simulator and am having dinner. What I want to say is that I've found a solution for the chassis of Williams' car, but I really can't figure out how to deal with British food."

He picked up a piece of fried fish with a fork and showed it to the camera.

"The rumors are true. The food in Britain is awful. If anyone's going to Melbourne for the match next week, could you please bring me two bottles of Lao Gan Ma chili sauce, or a jar of pickled vegetables? I'm going to go get some water and swallow this. See you in Australia."

The video recording is finished; it lasts less than thirty seconds.

There was no editing, no filters, and no background music added.

Lin Feng clicked "Publish" directly.

He tossed his phone aside, got up, and went to the kitchen to pour water.

Unbeknownst to him, the moment he clicked "post," the backend algorithm identified this newly tagged high-priority account and directly pushed it to the highest-level traffic pool.

Less than ten minutes later, when Lin Feng sat back down at the table with his water glass and casually picked up his phone to open an app, a barrage of message notifications popped up on the screen.

Likes: 99+

Comments: 99+

New followers: 99+

Lin Feng opened the homepage and was somewhat surprised to find that the video he had just posted had already surpassed one million views, and the number of likes was visibly soaring towards the 100,000 mark. His follower count had jumped from zero to three hundred thousand, and the number was still rapidly increasing.

He opened the comments section. Each message was more amusing than the last.

"Holy crap! We've caught a wild forest monster! Front row for a photo!"

"This is hilarious, this guy is so real. While everyone else is giving acceptance speeches after winning a championship, he's complaining about how bad the British food is!"

Lin Feng: I really don't want to do business, I just want to work on cars.

"This fried fish really does look like it was fried in engine oil. I feel sorry for Lin Shen for a second."

"Roger that! I'm flying to Melbourne next Friday. Old Godmother chili sauce is on the way! If you dare make the top ten, I dare send Old Godmother chili sauce to Williamsburg P-room!"

"Breaking news! Former Ferrari Grand Prix winner suffers mistreatment after transferring to Williams, even begging for pickled vegetables overnight!"

Even some official accounts with blue V verification came to join in the fun.

Lao Gan Ma official account: "Lin Shen, please send me your address via private message. A box of chili sauce will be loaded onto the plane tomorrow! Wishing you great results in the Williams race!"

An official account for pickled mustard tuber products posted: "Pickled mustard tubers are ready! Does the racing team need sponsorship? We can cover all the team's meals for the whole year!"

Lin Feng couldn't help but laugh out loud when he saw these comments.

Zhou Kai's WeChat message came again.

【Well done! This buzz is incredible! Lao Gan Ma and that pickled mustard tuber brand just contacted my team, wanting to know if we could do a short-term collaboration or send some PR gift boxes. Just a casual remark from you, and it's free money again!】

[Just stick to this persona! Authentic, down-to-earth, with a touch of dry humor. That's what young fans love most these days.]

Lin Feng replied with a voice message: "Okay, I've opened the account and sent the video. If Lao Gan Ma really does arrive, remember to send it to my hotel in Melbourne for me; I really need it."

Lin Feng put down his phone and threw the remaining half of the fried fish into the trash can.