F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

With only two minutes left in the countdown for Q3 qualifying, all ten cars were making their final sprint.

Lin Feng gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, his breathing heavy.

The FW46 performed well on the straights, but in Silverstone's famous high-speed corners, it lacked downforce, and the rear of the car was constantly on the verge of losing control during each corner.

But he didn't dare to ease off the accelerator.

The moment the thought of the punishment of "eating shit for thirty days" flashed through his mind, his right foot felt like it was welded to the accelerator pedal.

He had no choice but to fight desperately, because it concerned his most basic human dignity!

"Last corner! Full throttle out of the corner!"

The dark blue race car rolled over the red and white sloping shoulder, scraped the guardrail, and sped across the finish line!

"Time's up! Lin Feng has crossed the finish line!" commentator Croft announced loudly, "1 minute 26.105 seconds! He's temporarily in second place!"

But this ranking only lasted for less than ten seconds.

The three cars driven by British drivers following closely behind him crossed the finish line one after another, as if they had been injected with adrenaline.

"George Russell, pole position! Lewis Hamilton second! Lando Norris third! Mercedes and McLaren sweep the top three! The British drivers have won a resounding victory on home track!"

Paul's voice came through the radio.

"P4, Lin, well done."

"Roger that." Lin Feng panted heavily and slowed down. "The home-field advantage is terrifying; they're practically flying at the top of the road."

After parking the race car in the closed area, Lin Feng removed the steering wheel and laboriously climbed out of the cockpit.

He had just taken off his helmet and hadn't even had a chance to wipe his sweat with a towel when Chloe, Williams' public relations manager, rushed over in her high heels and grabbed his arm.

"Lin! Come with me now, there's no time to rest!" Chloe pulled him towards the back of the repair area.

"Big sister, can't you let me have a drink of water?" Lin Feng looked utterly exasperated. "Isn't the press conference in half an hour?"

"It's not a press conference! It's on set!" Chloe spoke rapidly. "The Hollywood crew of 'Racing Wild West' just contacted James, saying they urgently need your help."

"Hollywood wants my help? To play a villain?" Lin Feng was completely confused.

"They need you to drive an ApexGP prop car and do a few flying laps on the track for B-roll shots," Chloe explained. "Their director, Kosinski, just watched your qualifying and said your driving style was too wild, perfectly matching the character of the movie's male lead, Sonny Hayes. So they specifically asked you to be their stunt double."

Lin Feng rolled his eyes after hearing this.

"These movie crews really know how to order people around. I just finished the Q3 race, I'm completely exhausted! I'm not going, I want to go home!"

"James has already agreed, and the production team has given him a large sponsorship fee." Chloe ruthlessly shattered his illusions. "Go ahead, big star, your clothes are all ready."

Five minutes later.

Lin Feng stood in the makeshift garage of the ApexGP team, looking at himself in the mirror.

He took off his Williams blue racing suit and put on a custom-made black and gold racing suit. The chest was printed with various fictitious sponsor logos, and the workmanship was quite exquisite, giving it a high-quality look.

"This outfit is pretty cool, it looks more menacing than our dark blue one." Lin Feng tugged at the collar, finding it quite novel.

"Hey! Who's this newbie?"

A burst of gloating laughter came from behind me.

Lin Feng turned around and saw Alben and Crapinto, those two idlers, standing at the garage door, holding energy drinks and looking on with expressions of amusement.

"Lin, did you get fired by Williams and can only work as an extra in Hollywood?" Alben laughed so hard he couldn't stand up straight.

Crapinto chimed in, "The black and gold color scheme suits you quite well. But be careful, that prop car of theirs is actually an F2 race car with an F1 shell. It's been so long since you've driven an F2, don't floor the gas and smash their movie prop to pieces."

"Get lost, you two idlers." Lin Feng glared at them. "I'm expanding my resources in Hollywood. Don't come asking me for autographs after I win an Oscar."

Just then, several key members of the production crew walked over.

Leading the way was director Joseph Kosinski, followed by two men dressed in matching black and gold racing suits.

One is Brad Pitt, the ageless Hollywood heartthrob, and the other is young actor Damson Idris.

Pitt looks remarkably well-preserved; even at sixty, he still exudes charm in a tight racing suit.

"Lin! Thank you so much for coming to the rescue!" Kosinski warmly extended his hand. "I've seen your previous matches, they were absolutely amazing, this is exactly the kind of performance we need."

"Director, you're too kind. I'm just doing my job for the money," Lin Feng said with a smile, shaking hands.

Pete stepped forward, patted Lin Feng on the shoulder, and smiled warmly.

"Hello, Lin. I'm Sonny Hayes, nice to meet my action director."

"Hello, Mr. Pete. I'm your stunt driver." Lin Feng joked, "But seriously, this black and gold outfit is even cooler than what we saw on the movie poster. Your crew has great taste."

Damson also came over to say hello; he plays a young rookie driver in the movie.

The three of them stood together and, at the request of the film crew's photographer, posed for a few photos. The extras and real crew members around them took out their phones to secretly take pictures.

After exchanging pleasantries, Kosinski began to explain the filming tasks.

"Lin, we don't have much time. There's a 20-minute gap on the track now. We've already set up high-speed cameras at several key corners, and helicopters and drones will also be filming from there."

The director pointed to the black and gold race car parked in the pit lane.

"The car is equipped with six custom-made IMAX lenses. You don't need to worry about lap times; just drive as aggressively as possible. We need sparks, we need the blue smoke from locked tires, we need that visual impact of struggling on the edge of control. Can you do it?"

Lin Feng nodded and gave a no-questions-asked gesture.

"Director, your request is exactly what I'm looking for. As long as you're not afraid I'll wreck the car, I'll provide you with plenty of sparks."

"Then I'll leave it to you!"

Lin Feng put on Sonny Hayes' custom helmet and stepped into the cockpit.

The moment I sat down, a familiar yet strange feeling washed over me.

As Crapinto said, this is an F2 chassis modified car with an F1 aerodynamic shell. The steering wheel doesn't have as many complicated knobs as an F1 car, and most importantly, it doesn't have power steering!

The mechanic started the engine, and a roar completely different from the hybrid engine in the F1 engine room filled the F2's cockpit.

"Action!" came the director's command over the walkie-talkie.

Lin Feng released the clutch, and the black and gold race car roared out of the maintenance area.

As soon as he stepped onto the track, Lin Feng immediately sensed the difference.

F2's downforce is far less than F1's, making the car feel somewhat floaty when cornering. The heavy steering wheel relies entirely on the strength of the arms to turn, and every bump on the road is transmitted to the hands through the steering column without reservation.

The original owner's memories of racing in F2 were instantly awakened; the memory of wrestling with the steering wheel to control the race car returned to his body.

"This thing is really hard to drive, no wonder Pete needs a stunt double at his age."

Lin Feng muttered something inside his helmet, then his eyes sharpened.

Since the director wants a certain effect, then let him have that effect.

At the end of the long straight, Lin Feng deliberately missed the optimal braking point. Only when he was extremely close to the apex of the corner did he slam on the brakes!

"Bang!"

The tires locked up instantly, and a thick plume of blue smoke erupted from the front wheels. The race car, trailing white smoke, swung wildly into the corner. The titanium friction blocks on the undercarriage slammed against the Silverstone curb, sending up a dazzling trail of sparks stretching over ten meters long!

The helicopter hovered overhead, perfectly capturing this extremely violent cornering maneuver.

"Yes! That's amazing!" Kosinski shouted excitedly from behind the monitor. "This is so real! This is the Sonny Hayes I wanted!"

Pete and Damson stood by watching the replay, and they were also amazed.

"This guy drives like he's in a fight," Pete said, shaking his head with a laugh.

Lin Feng was having a blast on the track.

There's no need to worry about tire maintenance, fuel consumption, or complicated engine modes. He only needs to drive purely and push the machine to its mechanical limits.

He swerved his car like an enraged viper through the series of corners, the black and gold paint job gleaming with a cold metallic sheen in the sunlight. The deafening roar of the engine echoed throughout the Silverstone circuit.

Many fans who hadn't left were stunned in the stands, thinking it was a mysterious new racing team conducting secret tests.

The filming mission was successfully completed after just five laps.

Lin Feng drove the race car back to the garage and parked it in the designated spot.

When he pulled off the steering wheel and stood up, the entire ApexGP crew erupted in enthusiastic applause.

Five laps of frantic pushing to the limit without hydraulic power steering left Lin Feng's arms aching terribly, and his racing suit was completely soaked. But the expression on his face showed pure exhilaration.

"Lin! Your driving is simply art!" Kosinski stepped forward and shook his hand firmly. "Those sparks and lines, we didn't even need special effects in post-production. You've helped us a lot."

"Don't mention it, Director. The F2 has a solid foundation, and the car is well modified," Lin Feng said with a smile as he took off his gloves.

Pete also came over and handed Lin Feng a bottle of water.

"Thank you for your hard work. When the movie is released, I'll reserve a good spot for you in the credits."

"Thank you very much then." Lin Feng took a sip of water.

After filming wrapped, Lin Feng changed back into his own clothes and prepared to leave.

On his way back to the van, the setting sun cast a long shadow over the enclosure.

Recalling the struggle with the steering wheel in the F2 chassis, he couldn't help but feel a sense of感慨 (gan3kai3, a feeling of mixed emotions, often including nostalgia and nods). The days of desperately seeking sponsorship just to be able to drive a car were long gone; now, he was a rising star in the F1 paddock, attracting Hollywood film crews to his side.

However, the thought of the main competition tomorrow afternoon immediately made Lin Feng frown again.

Starting fourth on the grid, with Russell, Hamilton, and Norris—three formidable contenders for the championship—aspiring to a podium finish against them would be an incredibly difficult task.

"If we don't make it into the top three, we'll have to eat a feast of shit for thirty days..."

Lin Feng shivered; the relaxed mood he had just enjoyed on set vanished instantly.