F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

It was 3 p.m. local time in Saudi Arabia, less than five hours before the main competition.

The tactical meeting room on the second floor of the Ferrari team's rest area.

On the large holographic projection screen, data on various corners of the Jeddah coastal circuit, wind direction predictions, tire wear curves, and long-distance simulated paces of other teams flashed densely.

Team leader Frederick Vasser sat at the head of the long table, his hands crossed and resting on his chin, looking serious.

Sitting to his left were driver Charles Leclerc and his race engineer Javier Marcos; to his right were Lin Feng and his engineer Daniel Ricciardo.

"Alright, gentlemen, the miracle of qualifying is over, and now we face a 50-lap race." Vassell cleared his throat and broke the silence. "Jeddah is a street circuit that can easily trigger a safety car or even a red flag. Our starting tire strategy is crucial."

Ferrari's chief strategist, Inaki Rueda, stood up and pointed to the line graph on the screen with a laser pointer: "According to last night's data, our SF-24, fully fueled, consumes more medium tires than the Red Bull RB20. Verstappen starts in P2 today, and he will most likely choose to start on medium tires, using the Red Bull's chassis advantage to put immense pressure on the first half of the race."

At this point, Rueda looked at Lin Feng: "Lin, as pole position, our advice is for you to use Plan A: start on medium tires and try to hold your position during the initial stages. If your tires degrade too quickly in the first 15 laps and Max overtakes you, don't fight back, let him pass. We'll use the undercut to chase with hard tires in the second half of the race. You need to understand that you're a rookie, and securing a podium finish or a top-five finish is already a huge victory for the team."

Lin Feng sat in the large gaming chair, idly twirling a red pen in his hand, without immediately responding.

Should we keep him in the top five? Or let him pass?

If he didn't have the system, this would indeed be the perfect safety net. But right now, he has the [Schumacher Peak Experience Card] in his mind, plus the [Iron Neck] and [Precision Flow] he just drew last night.

To expect the racing legend to relinquish his first-place position? What a joke!

"Charles, what's your opinion?" Vaselle turned his gaze to Leclerc.

Leclerc started in P3 today, right behind Lin Feng.

The handsome Monaco player sighed and rubbed his thick curly hair helplessly. "Fred, to be honest, I tried defending against that Red Bull in the simulator. With DRS activated, the RB20's top speed on the straight was almost 8 to 10 kilometers per hour faster than ours. It's like driving a civilian car on the highway and being overtaken by a supercar."

Leclerc turned to Lin Feng, his eyes filled with sincerity and concern: "Lin, I know you did incredibly well in qualifying yesterday, but the race is a completely different story. With 110 kilograms of fuel, the car will become like a clumsy, stupid pig. Max will put immense pressure on you at the first corner or the final corner 27. If you overuse your tires early on to defend against him, your tires will severely degrade in the middle of the race. At that point, not only Max, but I, and even the McLaren behind us, will devour you alive."

"So, listen to the strategy team." Leclerc patted Lin Feng on the shoulder. "If we can't stop him at the start, we'll follow behind him and use slipstreams to keep the tires in check. We'll beat him with our pit stop strategy. Don't push things too hard, buddy."

Seeing the strategy team and Leclerc's tense expressions, Lin Feng stopped twirling his pen.

He knew, of course, that his teammates and the team meant well for him. Ferrari's strategy team, which is known for its unconventional approach, had already done an exceptional job by coming up with such a conventional safety net plan today.

Lin Feng sat up straight, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the conference room: "Rueda, Charles, your analyses are both correct. Starting on the neutral tires is fine, as for defense..."

He paused, then offered a harmless smile. "I'll try to control the pace. If Max really goes that fast, I'll consider it. After all, the most important thing on the racetrack is bringing the car back, isn't it?"

Vasseur and Ricardo exchanged a glance and simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief. What they feared most was that this hot-blooded young rookie, who had just created a miracle yesterday, would get carried away in the main game and try to take Verstappen down with him.

"Very good, Lin! Keep up this mature mindset!" Vasser nodded with great satisfaction.

The meeting concluded in a relatively relaxed atmosphere.

However, Lin Feng's true inner monologue was: Let him pass? Dream on! My mission is to defend the lead. If I get overtaken, I'll have to wear the "I'm a Noob" jersey for three weekends and parade through the streets! Even if I have to drive until the tires are sparking, I'm going to keep Verstappen pinned down in my rearview mirror!

……

It was 4 p.m., four hours before the start of the match.

The FIA's official pre-game press conference was held in the media room.

As the top three finishers in qualifying, Lin Feng, Verstappen, and Leclerc sat side-by-side behind the long table at the press conference. Below, hundreds of motorsport journalists from around the world arrayed their cameras and microphones, their flashes going off like a dense thunderstorm.

The spotlight was undoubtedly on Lin Feng, the young Chinese driver who had just shocked the entire F1 world the day before, sitting in the very center.

"Lin, this is Sky Sports UK." A veteran British journalist wearing gold-rimmed glasses stood up, his eyes sharp. "This is your first race, and you're starting directly from pole position. Max Verstappen next to you is known for his extremely aggressive approach and perfect tire management in races. How many laps do you think you can withstand his pressure? Or, to put it another way, is Ferrari's strategy for you today designed to provide as much cover as possible for your teammate?"

This question was extremely tricky, not only implying that Lin Feng couldn't hold onto first place, but also attempting to sow discord within the Ferrari team.

Verstappen beside him drank his water expressionlessly, while Leclerc frowned slightly, preparing to smooth things over for his new teammate.

And what about Lin Feng?

At this moment, his mind was blank, filled with the track telemetry data he had just noted down in the conference room. He couldn't be bothered to play word games with the media.

"Just brush it off, say some polite words and go back to sleep," Lin Feng thought to himself.

So he picked up the microphone and began to speak slowly and deliberately:

"How many laps? My friend, I think you might have some misunderstandings about motorsports."

Lin Feng rested his chin on the back of his hand: "Racing is a forward-moving sport. Sitting in the first starting position, all I can see is the track ahead, the traffic lights, and the safety car. As for how many laps... I don't really understand why you would ask that question."

He turned his head, glanced at Verstappen beside him who looked completely bewildered, then turned back to the camera and shrugged, his tone extremely sincere:

"I told them at the team meeting earlier that I just plan to drive casually today. As long as I don't slow down, Max will be following me around in my exhaust fumes. Defense? Why should I defend? As long as I'm faster than everyone else, there's no need for defense, right? So, I don't think anyone can put pressure on me. The biggest pressure probably comes from Ferrari's engine not blowing up."

Dead silence.

The entire media hall, which could hold hundreds of people, was completely silent for three seconds after Lin Feng spoke; you could hear a pin drop.

Leclerc stared wide-eyed at Lin Feng as if he were an alien.

Good heavens! Is this what you meant by "mature mindset" and "wandering around casually" in the meeting room?!

Verstappen remained silent, his face grim.

"Snap! Snap! Snap!"

After a brief silence, the sound of even more frantic camera shutters and the excited, trembling exclamations of the reporters filled the air.

"Arrogant! Unbelievable self-confidence!"

"The F1 paddock has welcomed a new generation of madmen!"

"Breaking news! Chinese rookie ignores three-time world champion, claims he'll make Red Bull eat exhaust fumes!"

Sitting on the stage, Lin Feng was a little dumbfounded as he looked at the instantly boiling crowd of reporters.

No, I just wanted to say that I didn't have time to look in the rearview mirror and just wanted to focus on driving forward. How did that become a provocation?

Are people's reading comprehension skills really that bad these days?

Just as Lin Feng was about to offer a few more explanations to try and smooth things over, the system's emotionless notification suddenly echoed deep within his mind:

[Ding! Detected that the host has displayed an extreme display of arrogance in front of international media, successfully angering world champion Max Verstappen. The paddock's attention has surged to 500%!]

[Limited-time advanced quest triggered: The King of Pretenders Always Keeps His Word!]

[Mission Objective: Since the host claims "I won't be overtaken if I don't slow down," then in today's race, the host's lap time in any sector must not be more than 0.5 seconds behind Verstappen! Furthermore, the host must dominate the Red Bull car throughout the race and finish in P1!]

[Mission Reward: Unlocks 'Legendary Chassis Tuning Mastery' (allows you to issue chassis parameter modification commands to mechanics with god-like calculator capabilities), plus 1000 system points.]

[Failure Penalty: Due to the host's failed attempt to show off, after the race, the host will be forced to perform a full social dance in the center of the paddock in front of all the media and the team, and shout "I bragged, I apologize" three times.]

Holy crap!!!

Lin Feng almost jumped up from his chair.

System, you really don't treat me like a human being! The punishment for being a noob was already terrible enough, and now you've given me a super-doubled series of punishments?!

"Lin? Lin? Are you alright? Why are you so pale all of a sudden?" Leclerc leaned closer and whispered. "Did you say something too boastful just now, and now you realize you've angered Max and are you scared?"

Lin Feng took a deep breath, turned to look at Leclerc, and forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace through gritted teeth: "Charles... I'm not only not afraid now, I even want to weld the accelerator pedal right to the floor."

There's no turning back.

Even if we have to break the chassis of this SF-24 today, we absolutely cannot let Verstappen get past! Absolutely not!

……

There's one and a half hours left before departure.

The drivers have gradually returned to their respective rest areas for final preparations.

In Lin Feng's lounge, the constant temperature air conditioning was set to the most comfortable 22 degrees Celsius.

He had just finished a full set of neck warm-up stretches and was now sitting in a chair, putting on the heavy fireproof suit with the help of a physiotherapist.

The phone on the table suddenly vibrated.

No need to look, it must be a call from home.

Lin Feng picked up the phone and answered the video call.

On the screen, there was still his father Lin Jianhua's somewhat awkward yet excited face, while his mother kept squeezing in front of the screen.

"Son! Did you see the news? You're all the trending topics in China! Even CCTV's sports channel made an exception and canceled their evening billiards replay to broadcast your match!" Dad's booming voice made the phone speaker buzz. "What you said to the foreign reporters just now was so damn satisfying! That's how you should be so assertive! We Chinese can't back down when we're abroad!"

Lin Feng gave a wry smile, thinking to himself, "Dad, you have no idea what kind of situation your son is facing right now."

"Xiaofeng, your dad's just talking nonsense," Mom interrupted, her face full of concern and worry. "Mom doesn't understand any of that 'defense' or 'exhaust fumes' stuff. I only saw on the news that cars were practically shooting sparks! It's too dangerous! Listen to Mom, safety comes first during the race. If that foreign guy behind you, what's his name, Pan, is going too fast, just move aside and let him pass. We're not fighting for first place; finishing safely is more important than anything else, understand?"

Hearing his mother's extremely uninformed yet concerned words, Lin Feng's originally extremely tense nerves suddenly relaxed miraculously.

In the paddock, you are a machine, a warrior, a business asset worth tens of millions of euros; but in your family's eyes, you will always just be a child who can't afford to get hurt.

"Mom, don't worry. This car looks fast, but it's actually very safe inside. The carbon fiber shell can't even be penetrated by bullets." Lin Feng smiled. "I've got it all in mind. I won't go head-to-head with them; I'll just drive steadily in front. After the race, I'll take the trophy back and pack some melon seeds for you."

"You silly child, you never behave properly!" Mom was amused, and the worry in her eyes lessened considerably.

"Alright, alright, our son's about to go off the track, don't waste his time." Dad pushed Mom aside, solemnly clenched his fist at the camera, and said, "Son, go for it! Dad's got your back!"

"Okay. Dad, Mom, I have to go to the parking lot. Bye."

"beep."

The video call ended. The screen went dark.

Lin Feng placed his phone face down on the table.

"Ricardo." Lin Feng stood up and picked up his own helmet from the table.

Ricardo, the competition engineer who had been waiting outside, pushed open the door and handed over a pair of fireproof gloves.

"Let's go." Lin Feng said as he zipped up his gloves with Velcro and strode out.

……

The starting area of ​​the Jeddah coastal circuit in Saudi Arabia.

The departure bay had now transformed into a boiling ocean.

The deafening music, the laughter of VIP guests, and the busy work of mechanics mingled together.

David Coulthard is conducting a pre-race interview at the starting grid.

When he tried to approach the Ferrari No. 55 car parked in first place, he was blocked by a dense crowd of security personnel and media.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we won't be able to get close to today's absolute protagonist, Lin Feng!" Coulthard shouted into the camera. "But I can see he's already in the cockpit! He seems incredibly calm, showing none of the panic one would expect from a rookie. And behind him, Max Verstappen's eyes practically want to devour the Ferrari in front of him! This is going to be a clash of titans!"

At this point, the departure bays have been cleared.

The thermal blanket was removed, revealing the four brand-new yellow neutral tires on the race car.

The tire warm-up period is over.

Twenty steel monsters, equipped with the most powerful internal combustion engines on Earth, took their positions one by one in their respective starting grids, like heavily armored cavalrymen preparing for a charge.

Lin Feng sat in the cramped cockpit, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his left hand on the clutch.

Directly ahead, the first red light comes on.

Inside the Red Bull pit lane, Christian Horner stared intently at the telemetry screen: "Max, eat him!"

The second red light.

Inside the Ferrari's pit garage, Vassell made the sign of the cross: "God help me, please don't crash."

The third red light.

In the CCTV5 studio, commentators Sha Tong and Shi Yiying stood up, and millions of Chinese car fans held their breath.

The fourth red light.

Lin Feng's gaze was firm and steady, as if the red racing legend from 2004 had opened his eyes again in this young body after traversing twenty years of time and space.

The fifth red light, all red!

Lin Feng could feel his blood surging through his veins.

Red light off!