F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

On Monday morning, the tarmac at Homestead Air Force Base in Miami-Dade County was sweltering, with the surrounding air visibly distorted by the intense heat from the jet engines, making even the distant control tower appear somewhat blurry.

Lin Feng, dressed in an extremely incongruous and even somewhat bulky dark green anti-G suit, carrying a flight helmet in his hand, looked at the two-seat F-15E "Strike Eagle" fighter jet with sharp gray-blue paint lines in front of him with a face full of irritation.

Standing next to him was his boss, James Walls.

Compared to Lin Feng's tight anti-gravity suit that made it hard for him to breathe, James looked incredibly comfortable in his outfit today.

He was wearing a Williams short-sleeved jersey, beach shorts, and a pair of classic Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses. He stood with his hands on his hips and a mischievous grin on his face, as if he were watching a good show.

"James, can you explain to me why we're at an air force base so early in the morning?" Lin Feng tugged at his tight collar, feeling a red mark on his neck, and couldn't help but complain, "I did a full fifty-six laps on the track yesterday, my bones are about to fall apart, all I want to do now is go back to my hotel bed and sleep."

"To reward you for bringing back valuable points for the team yesterday, young man," James stepped forward and patted the fighter jet's metal skin, "this is a special experience arranged by our team's sponsors. It's not just a reward, but also a very important commercial shoot. Relax, Lin, this is an opportunity that ordinary people can't buy with any amount of money. You're about to experience breaking the sound barrier."

Lin Feng looked up at the heavily armed steel behemoth parked in front of him, and let out a sneer without any attempt to hide his disdain.

As an F1 driver who dominates the racetrack, Lin Feng has a natural arrogance towards all modes of transportation other than racing cars.

"Come on, James." Lin Feng twirled the helmet in his hand with one hand, his tone extremely arrogant. "Centrifugal force has long since made my internal organs as tough as iron. To be honest, this so-called fighter jet experience is at most a slightly noisier and faster baby cradle for me. I probably wouldn't be excited at all, I could just fall asleep in the back seat."

Just as Lin Feng was spouting nonsense, a burly man in full flight gear walked down the boarding stairs.

He had a neat buzz cut, and his name tag on his chest read his code name: "Viper".

This is the Air Force ace pilot who was responsible for taking Lin Feng into the sky today.

The venomous snake clearly understood Lin Feng's boastful words. Instead of getting angry, it grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

He turned to look at James, and the two exchanged a very secretive and dangerous glance through their sunglasses.

James's smile carried a distinctly cunning undertone.

"Really? I hope you can keep up that stubbornness in the air." James turned to the pilot and said in a tone of begging, "Sir, my driver is used to racing on the ground and thinks he's invincible. I'd appreciate it if you could teach him a lesson about real G-forces in the air. Don't hold back, the more exciting the better."

"No problem, Mr. Walls. I'll let this gentleman experience real 3D maneuvering." Viper patted his chest, turned to Lin Feng, and gestured for him to get in. "Mr. Lin, hurry up and get in the back seat, fasten your seatbelt, we're about to take off."

Lin Feng swallowed hard, and looking at the two men's treacherous smiles, a sense of foreboding suddenly rose in his heart.

But under the watchful eyes of several cameras with long lenses, he had to finish the act, even if it was a tearful performance.

Lin Feng had no choice but to bite the bullet and climb the boarding stairs, awkwardly sitting in the cramped rear cockpit.

Ground crew quickly climbed up, helped him fasten his five-point harness, connected his mask to the oxygen line, and then, with a "click," slowly closed the heavy glass canopy.

The cabin fell silent instantly, with most of the heat and noise from outside being blocked out. All that could be heard was the faint static from the headphones and one's own heavy breathing.

"Lin, radio test, can you hear me? The picture is clear." James's voice came through the ground crew's headset.

"I heard you perfectly well. James, tell this guy to take it easy and not fly the sponsor's plane into the sea. I'm not done living yet." Lin Feng remained stubborn.

The Viper in the front seat chuckled softly, his voice crackling through the internal channel: "Roger that, hold on tight. Tower, this is Viper 01, requesting takeoff."

"Viper 01, runway cleared, takeoff clearance. Have fun."

As soon as he finished speaking, the two turbofan engines roared with a deafening roar.

A powerful surge of acceleration instantly hit him, a force countless times more ferocious than an F1 start, pressing Lin Feng firmly against the seat back.

After a brief taxiing on the runway, the fighter jet suddenly pulled up its nose, like a sharp sword piercing the clear blue sky of Miami.

For the first two minutes after takeoff, everything seemed normal.

The fighter jets climbed smoothly to their designated altitude and cruised above the clouds.

Lin Feng leaned back in his seat, looking out the window at the vast expanse of white clouds and the Atlantic Ocean below, his heartbeat gradually calming down.

"James, is this the special experience you were talking about?" Lin Feng yawned arrogantly over the radio. "The scenery is nice, but where's the sense of speed? There's not even any thrust when cornering. Maybe we should go back."

James let out a soft chuckle.

The Viper in the front seat pressed the call button: "Race driver, bored? Don't worry, the warm-up is over, the real show is just beginning."

As soon as he finished speaking, Viper suddenly pulled the control stick all the way back.

Without any warning, the fighter jet, weighing tens of tons, completed a vertical climb maneuver in the air!

"Holy crap!!!"

Lin Feng's curse was cut off halfway through before it was abruptly swallowed.

He felt an overwhelming, invisible force press down on him instantly, like a wild bull firmly stepping on his chest.

The anti-G suit on his body sensed the overload, hissed as it filled with high-pressure gas, and tightly constricted his thighs and abdomen, trying to prevent blood from flowing down his body due to centrifugal force, which could cause cerebral ischemia.

Lin Feng felt his skin sagging, his once-proud jawline now compressed into a double chin. Breathing became difficult, each inhale requiring all his strength, and the edges of his vision began to darken and narrow uncontrollably.

"How are you feeling, Lin? Is the cradle rocking you comfortably?" James's sarcastic voice rang out in the earphone at just the right moment.

"No...nothing more than that..." Lin Feng clenched his teeth, his face flushed, each word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, and the veins on his forehead throbbed.

The snake in the front seat glanced at Lin Feng's distorted face in the rearview mirror and grinned.

"Very good, Mr. Racer. It seems we need to add some lullaby; the cradle isn't rocking hard enough."

Thus, the next ten minutes became the darkest, longest, and most suicidal period of Lin Feng's more than twenty years of life.

The viper displayed the extremely high flying skills of an air force ace in the sky.

First, there is continuous high-speed barrel rolling motion.

The fighter jet spun wildly in the air like an out-of-control top, tumbling 360 degrees to the left, right, above, and below.

Immediately following was the Immelmann roll, and the fighter jet suddenly flew upside down in mid-air. Lin Feng was hanging upside down on the seat belt. Before he could react, the plane suddenly pulled up at a sharp angle to right itself.

Lin Feng was thrown around in the cramped back seat, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The sky and the sea alternated wildly in his vision, the blue and white patches of color blurred into a mess.

My internal organs felt like they'd been put into a washing machine on the highest spin speed. My stomach was churning; the seafood feast I'd eaten last night to celebrate finishing the race was now swirling in my throat, ready to gush out at any moment.

"Sir... stop turning..." Lin Feng's arrogance was crushed, and his voice was as weak as a duck being choked.

"What? I can't hear you! There seems to be interference on the radio! You mean you want to do another steep turn and continuous rolls?" Viper pretended to be stupid in front, but his hands on the control stick were not idle, and the plane slid violently again.

"I...I was wrong...James, you old bastard...I'm going to throw up..." Lin Feng gripped the edge of the seat tightly with both hands, closed his eyes tightly, and tried to hold back the waves of acid rising in his throat. His face had turned from red to pale green.

"Hang in there, Lin! We're landing soon!"

The Viper finally had its fill of fun, pushed off the control stick, and the fighter jet ended its aerial disco, beginning its dive to land on the runway.

The moment the landing gear touched the concrete runway, Lin Feng felt as if he had finally climbed back to earth from the eighteenth level of hell.

The plane came to a smooth stop on the tarmac, the canopy slowly opened, and a rush of fresh air, carrying a wave of heat, rushed in.

Lin Feng slowly unbuckled his seatbelt, too weak to even say thank you to Viper in the seat in front of him. He tumbled and crawled out of the cabin, his legs on the boarding stairs as limp as cooked noodles, completely unresponsive. He practically slid and fell to the ground.

The moment his foot touched the solid ground of the tarmac, the churning in his stomach, which had been building up for ten minutes, erupted like a volcano.

Lin Feng didn't care that there were several cameras filming him from every angle. He ripped off his helmet and threw it on the ground, then stumbled and rushed to the right wing of the fighter jet.

He clung tightly to the edge of the wing with both hands, bent over, and began to vomit violently towards the ground.

"vomit--"

The commotion was so great that it shook heaven and earth.

The sponsor representatives and ground staff around them were all amused, and some even couldn't help but laugh out loud.

James Walls strolled over leisurely, took off his sunglasses, and beamed with pride.

He walked over to Lin Feng and thoughtfully took a black trash bag out of his pocket and handed it to him.

"Well done, Lin. At least you didn't throw up in the cabin. How was the baby cradle experience? Did you sleep well?" James patted Lin Feng's back in a fake-feigned manner while mocking him with a caring tone.

Lin Feng snatched the black plastic bag, buried his head in it, and vomited violently again.

It took him a long time to straighten up. When he raised his head, his face was ashen, his lips were bloodless, and his hair was soaked with sweat, lying limply on his forehead.

He trembled as he extended a finger, pointing at James, who was beaming with smugness, and gritted his teeth.

"I...I will never...never again ride in any form of transportation that leaves my feet off the ground! Never!"

"That won't do, it's not up to you." James laughed, tucked in his sunglasses, and flashed a victory V-sign at the camera next to him. "We still have to fly back to Europe for the Imola race. If you're planning to swim across the Atlantic, I won't stop you."

Lin Feng rolled his eyes, his stomach churning again, and he quickly turned his head away to continue dry heaving over the garbage bag.

……

Three hours later.

The official F1 channel and the Williams team's official Twitter and Instagram accounts simultaneously released a carefully edited video.

The video has no fancy transitions; it starts with Lin Feng's famous quote before boarding the plane: "This is like a baby cradle to me; I could probably fall asleep right away if I got on."

Immediately afterwards, there was a "snap" sound effect. The scene then cut directly to the high-definition camera in the rear seat of the fighter jet.

Netizens around the world clearly saw Lin Feng's facial muscles completely twisted and deformed, his double chin pressed into three layers, his mouth uncontrollably wide open, and his frantic begging and screaming for mercy over the radio as he experienced vertical ascent and continuous tumbling.

The heart-wrenching cry of "I'm going to throw up" echoed in the video.

The last ten seconds of the video are the climax: Lin Feng, clinging to the wing of a fighter jet, is vomiting violently, almost bringing up bile. James, standing nearby, is handing him a black plastic bag, his face barely concealed by a forced laugh.

The video garnered over a million views within just one hour of its release, and continues to climb at an alarming rate.

The worst part is that the drivers who had been tormented by Lin Feng on the track in the paddock finally seized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and began to kick him while he was down on Twitter.

Ferrari's Leclerc was the first to fire.

[Charles Leclerc]: Thank you, James, and thank you, U.S. Air Force. Finally, someone in the paddock can handle him. Seeing him throw up everything he ate makes me feel refreshed all day.

This comment immediately garnered over 100,000 likes.

Immediately afterwards, Norris sent a merciless taunt.

[Lando Norris]: Hahahaha! Help! The way he was vomiting while holding onto the wing is exactly like my golden retriever who gets carsick!

[Zhou Guanyu]: Brother, I must admit that you looked really cool when you made those tough talk before taking off, but I advised you a long time ago not to make too many promises, or you'll get your comeuppance.

[Alexander Albon]: As his teammate, I have to step forward and clarify this. James is usually a very kind and approachable team leader; he would never torment his driver like that, unless the driver is really asking for it.

[Max Verstappen]: So that's why I only play racing simulators and never touch flight simulators. Humans are better off staying on the ground.

[Yuki Kakuta]: Serves him right! It's so satisfying! Seeing him vomiting so badly he was practically vomiting bile, all my anger from yesterday vanished! Thank you, Williams, for ridding the people of this scourge!

Right now, in a luxury suite at a hotel in Miami.

Lin Feng lay sprawled out on the soft bed, his face regaining some color, but his stomach still ached faintly.

He held his phone, his teeth itching with rage as he looked at the vomiting emojis Norris had turned into various funny captions in the Twitter comments section.

"These bastards who kick someone when they're down, just you wait."

Lin Feng gritted his teeth, opened WhatsApp on his phone, and clicked into the racers' group.

The group chat was already flooded with his various emojis, and the message notification sounds kept coming in.

Lin Feng took a deep breath and frantically tapped his thumbs on the keyboard.

[Williams-Lin Feng]: Laugh all you want, you bunch of greenhorns! You don't know anything! Was I just airsick? That was the team deliberately pushing me to burn off energy! My stomach is empty now, which means I've achieved the ultimate weight loss! Next week at Imola, having lost a kilogram, I'll leave you all scrambling on the straight so you won't even catch a whiff of my exhaust!

[McLaren Norris]: Bro, stop being so stubborn. I bet you don't even have the strength to walk to the bathroom to poop right now. Do you need me to send you a box of motion sickness patches?

[Ferrari Sainz]: Vomiting too violently can cause excessive abdominal pressure. I don't want to lend you my car again in Imola.

[Aston Martin Alonso]: Young people are full of energy, and letting it out is good for their physical and mental health.

Seeing the screen filled with mockery and meme attacks, Lin Feng knew that he was now completely nailed to the pillar of shame.

He angrily threw his phone away, grabbed the hotel blanket and covered his head, rolling around on the bed in agony.

His lifelong reputation was completely ruined.