F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

The Jeddah coastal circuit is 6.174 kilometers long and has an amazing 27 turns.

As the fastest street circuit in the F1 calendar, the walls here are not only covered with black tire tracks left by drivers of all generations, but are also jokingly referred to by many veteran drivers as a "meat grinder that leaves no corpse intact".

For a newcomer who is unprepared and hastily crammed into the cockpit, running qualifying races here is like walking a tightrope blindfolded on the edge of a cliff.

However, at this moment, Lin Feng, sitting in the Ferrari No. 28 race car, had a chilling calm and sharpness in his eyes behind his goggles.

[Ding! System task module activated, host is currently warming up the tires!]

[Current main objective: Survive the Saudi Grand Prix qualifying rounds and advance to Q2.]

[Task Reward: 500 System Points. (Points can be used in the system shop to exchange for skills, blueprints, attribute points, and to draw trial cards.)]

[Failure penalty: On the starting grid for tomorrow's race, wear a pink lace maid outfit, hold an umbrella for Leclerc, and recite "A Grateful Heart" with deep emotion.]

"Cough cough cough—!"

Lin Feng was so startled by the sudden appearance of the punishment mechanism in his mind that he almost floored the gas pedal.

"System, you son of a bitch, a maid outfit holding an umbrella? Do you think Ferrari doesn't have enough work already?!" Lin Feng cursed inwardly.

However, with this terrifying punishment hanging over his head, Lin Feng's nerves, which had been slightly relaxed, instantly tightened to the extreme.

What a joke! A grown man, even if he crashes into the wall and has to retire from the race, would never dress up as a maid and embarrass himself at the starting grid!

He skillfully turned the brake balance knob on the steering wheel, while swaying left and right on the track with an extremely experienced "dragon-drawing" posture, frantically rubbing the four red soft tires, striving to raise the tire temperature to the perfect 90-degree working range before the flying lap began.

……

Meanwhile, halfway around the world, in a typical family compound in northern Beijing, China.

In front of the television, Lin Feng's parents sat upright, so nervous that they didn't even dare to breathe.

Lin's mother, Chen Yafang, clutched a string of blessed Bodhi beads in her hand, muttering, "Amitabha, Bodhisattva, Guanyin, please don't let anything happen..."

Lin Guoqiang, Lin's father, was sweating profusely as he stared at the red race car flashing by on the screen. The half-smoked cigarette between his fingers had long since burned to the butt, but he was completely unaware of it.

"Old Lin, didn't our son say he'd just be serving tea and water at the Ferrari and maybe learn a few foreign languages ​​on the side? How... how did he suddenly end up in that metal shell?" Chen Ya-fang asked, her voice trembling with tears. "The news said that car can go over 300 kilometers per hour! He doesn't even have a driver's license yet, is this really going to work?!"

"How should I know!" Lin Guoqiang stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray in frustration, covering his face with his hands. "The TV said that some foreign guy named...Sassy, ​​had his intestines ruptured, and the team leader had no choice but to pull Xiao Feng up to take the blame. What a disaster! This Ferrari is just a rip-off! God help me, as long as that bastard can drive the car back to the garage unharmed, even if we come in last place, I'll go to the temple to give thanks tomorrow!"

The reaction of the Lin family elders was a microcosm of the reactions of countless viewers across China who were watching the live broadcast on their screens.

No one cares whether Lin Feng can achieve good results; everyone just hopes that this 20-year-old substitute won't get into a car accident and become an international laughing stock.

In the Five Star Sports live broadcast room, the voices of commentators Li Bing and Fei Ge revealed their barely concealed nervousness.

"Alright viewers, the countdown for Q1 of qualifying has begun. We can see that Lin Feng's car, number 28, has reached the last corner, and he is about to start his first flying lap in his F1 career!" Bing Ge stared intently at the screen. "Judging from the warm-up lap just now, Lin Feng's movements seem surprisingly smooth, without any awkwardness or hesitation."

"Indeed, but the warm-up lap doesn't tell the whole story." Fei adjusted his glasses, his tone serious. "The first corner of the Jeddah circuit is an extremely dangerous double deceleration corner. Starting at 310 km/h on the straight, you brake hard to enter the corner at 110 km/h, demanding exceptional braking judgment and G-force resistance from the driver. For a rookie with absolutely no practice data, this is the easiest place to lock up the tires or crash into the wall..."

Before he could finish speaking, the broadcast camera suddenly switched to Lin Feng's view from inside the car.

On the straightaway, the SF-24 race car, powered by the heart of the Prancing Horse, hurtled towards the first corner at an astonishing speed, like a red lightning bolt flying close to the ground, amidst the screech of its engine!

300km/h...315km/h...325km/h!

Eighth gear! Full throttle!

"Brake! Lin! Brake!"

In the Ferrari garage, race engineer Ricciardo stared intently at the braking data on the telemetry screen, his voice rising an octave.

Based on Ferrari's extensive simulator data and Sainz and Leclerc's driving habits, the limit braking point here should be near the 100-meter marker.

But now, Lin Feng's car has already passed the 100-meter mark, and even the 80-meter mark, and his right foot is still firmly pressed on the accelerator pedal, showing no sign of letting go!

"My God! What is he doing?!" Vassil covered his eyes in horror, wailing in despair, "He's trying to kill himself! Get the ambulance ready!"

Everyone, including the millions of viewers in the live stream, instinctively held their breath, mentally rehearsing the horrific scene of the Ferrari turning into a pile of fragments.

At this critical juncture, with less than 60 meters to the apex of the bend—

boom!

Lin Feng stomped his right foot hard on the brake pedal with a terrifying burst of force that was impossible for the naked eye to perceive!

boom!

A terrifying deceleration of up to 5G instantly tore at Lin Feng's body, as if an elephant had slammed heavily onto his chest. But with the boost from the [Schumacher Peak Experience Card], Lin Feng's upper body remained as still as a steel sculpture cast in the seat.

Then, something truly chilling happened.

Lin Feng didn't slam on the brakes like a typical rookie would, but instead used Michael Schumacher's signature move that dominated the paddock—track braking!

In a very short time, his right foot, with an extremely delicate force, precisely and gradually released the braking pressure as the cornering angle increased.

At the same time, he suddenly turned the steering wheel all the way to the left with both hands.

"squeak--!!!"

Four Pirelli red soft tires screeched on the asphalt, and the rear of the race car slid due to the heavy braking.

"It's going out of control!" a car enthusiast shouted in front of the screen.

However, it did not get out of control.

Lin Feng seemed to have anticipated every struggle of the race car, and only slightly turned the steering wheel to the right to make a counter-correction.

brush!

The red SF-24's front end kissed the apex of the first corner with perfect precision at an extremely tricky angle. Then, with a burst of throttle, the race car swept through the second corner like flowing water, roaring towards the next high-speed S-curve.

Perfect! Violent! Incredibly smooth!

This scene plunged the Ferrari pit garage into an eerie silence.

Engineer Ricardo stared wide-eyed at the telemetry data on the screen, as if he had seen a ghost.

Vasel, who had been covering his eyes and not daring to look, peeked at the screen through his fingers and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Holy shit…" the data analyst on the control panel next door cursed. "His speed at the first corner was 3 kilometers per hour faster than Charles's limit?! And he braked a full 15 meters late!"

"This is impossible! At this speed, the car simply doesn't have enough downforce to make it turn like that!" Ricardo exclaimed in frustration.

But the telemetry data doesn't lie. That god-like late braking and cornering just now not only didn't lock up the tires, but actually gave Lin Feng a huge advantage in the first time segment!

Meanwhile, in the Sky Sports commentary booth.

F1 commentator Croft's signature roar pierced the soundproof glass of the studio: "My God! Did you see that?! This young Chinese driver, Lin Feng, who was called upon in a crisis, displayed an absolutely terrifying late braking technique at the first corner! This isn't the work of a rookie, it's like Michael Schumacher possessed! He survived with incredible speed, and... God, look at his first segment time!"

On the timeline on the left side of the broadcast screen, the color of "LIN," representing the initials of Lin Feng's name, turned a striking purple during the first time segment!

On the track.

Red Bull Racing's reigning champion Max Verstappen has just completed a flying lap and is currently on a slow cooling lap.

Suddenly, a violent red light flashed in his rearview mirror.

"Holy crap, who just flew right past me?" Verstappen exclaimed in surprise.

"Marx, that's Lin, the substitute Ferrari brought on." Red Bull's race engineer GP's voice was grave. "He just got purple in the first timeout. Be careful, don't block his way, he's running very aggressively right now."

"A rookie? Interesting." Verstappen nodded, a hint of fighting spirit flashing in his eyes.

Back in Lin Feng's cockpit.

The raging G-forces tore at his body, but the divine enhancement from the [Schumacher Experience Card] made him feel as if he and the SF-24 had become one. He didn't need to look at the data; he could clearly sense the limits of each corner and how much grip the tires had left, just by the vibrations under his buttocks.

"Too slow! The chassis tuning is too conservative!"

As Lin Feng sped along the track at an astonishing speed, his right rear wheel almost brushing against the wall as he exited a corner, sending up a dazzling burst of sparks, he was also rapidly analyzing the condition of the race car in his mind.

"The seventh turn suffers from severe understeer, and the traction is insufficient when exiting the thirteenth turn..."

On the last two turns, Lin Feng activated DRS, and with the roar of the engine, the red Ferrari sped across the starting line like a shooting star!

brush!

When the final lap time was displayed on the big screen, the entire stadium erupted in cheers.

1: 28.950!

In the early stages of Q1, when the track conditions were not yet optimal, Lin Feng not only survived but also surged to P1 on the lap time leaderboard, leading Hamilton, who was temporarily in second place, by a full 0.3 seconds!