F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

Outside the arrival hall of Beijing Capital International Airport, Lin Feng, carrying a backpack, easily made his way to the taxi waiting area, opened the back door of a bright yellow taxi, and got in.

"Driver, please take me to Garden Road Community in HD District." Lin Feng took off his mask and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright! You can sit tight now."

The taxi driver in northern Beijing was a well-known self-taught sociologist and all-around commentator. This driver, with a buzz cut and a white towel draped around his neck, immediately started talking as soon as he stepped on the gas.

"Young man, just got back from abroad? It's the middle of the night, your flight must be delayed, right?" The driver skillfully merged lanes on the airport expressway while glancing at Lin Feng in the rearview mirror.

"No delay, it flew in from Europe, the timing was just right." Lin Feng leaned back in his chair and replied with a smile.

"Europe is great! But if we're talking about pure excitement, it has to be Beijing." The driver perked up, turning down the car radio volume a bit. "Have you seen the sports news lately? Our country's sports are really flourishing now. Not only are we good at diving and table tennis, but even in F1 racing, we're getting some young guys from Beijing winning prizes!"

Lin Feng had just taken out his phone to check WeChat when he heard this, so he put his phone down again.

"You watch racing too?" Lin Feng asked deliberately, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Hey! Look at what you're saying! I may drive an Elantra, but my heart is in a Ferrari!" The mechanic slapped the steering wheel, his eyebrows dancing with excitement. "That young man named Lin Feng, he's also from northern Beijing! His driving is simply amazing! I watched the highlights of the last few races, wow, he doesn't even brake when he turns, just whooshing around! Even more aggressively than when I used to drive my Xiali and weave through loopholes on the Second Ring Road!"

Lin Feng, struggling to suppress his laughter in the back seat, said, "Master, those are professional race cars. Your Xiali is also at a professional level."

"That's right!"

The driver, oblivious to anything amiss, continued his rambling: "But speaking of which, young man, I just glanced at you in the rearview mirror, and you know what, you really do look a bit like that Lin Feng. It's just that you look a bit too thin; his neck is incredibly thick, you can tell he's trained. You should eat more meat, don't just focus on dieting."

"Alright, thank you for your kind words. I'll ask my mom to stew more pork ribs when I get back," Lin Feng said with a smile.

Along the way, the driver talked about everything from the international situation to the Chinese national football team qualifying for the World Cup, and then circled back to the housing prices in northern Beijing. Lin Feng listened happily, occasionally cracking a joke.

To be honest, this feeling is quite strange.

Forty minutes later, the taxi came to a steady stop in front of an old residential compound.

"Driver, it's been scanned. Thank you for your trouble." Lin Feng paid the fare and got out of the car.

"See you later, watch your step!" The driver stepped on the gas, and the taxi disappeared into the night.

Lin Feng stood at the entrance of the residential area, looking at the familiar red brick buildings, the flying insects under the streetlights, and Grandpa Zhang dozing off in the security booth.

Everything seemed so familiar.

He skillfully maneuvered around several haphazardly parked old-age electric vehicles and entered the slightly dimly lit corridor of Building No. 3.

The motion-activated light was old and in disrepair, so he could only rely on his memory to stop in front of the security door on the third floor.

I checked my watch; it was 11:30 p.m.

Lin Feng didn't have his key, so he gently knocked on the door.

"Knock knock knock".

There was no movement inside.

Lin Feng increased the pressure on his hands: "Thump thump thump thump thump thump!"

A little while later, the sound of slippers dragging on the floor came from inside the door, followed by Lin Guoqiang's sleepy mumbling.

"Who is it? In the middle of the night."

"Checking the water meter," Lin Feng said in a low voice, deliberately using a high-pitched tone.

There was a two-second silence inside the door, then the peephole of the security door went dark for a moment. Immediately afterwards, with a click, the heavy security door was suddenly pulled open.

Lin Guoqiang, wearing a tank top and shorts, stood inside the door, holding a broom in his hand. He was about to lash out when he suddenly froze in place, like a statue that had been frozen in place.

"Dad, I'm back." Lin Feng took off his baseball cap and gave his father a bright smile.

"Clatter."

Lin Guoqiang dropped the broom from his hand. He rubbed his eyes, seemingly unable to believe that his son had appeared at his doorstep without warning.

"Old Lin, what's wrong? Has a thief broken in?" Lin's mother's anxious voice came from the master bedroom.

"What thief?! It's my son! My son's back!" Lin Guoqiang finally realized what was happening, his voice instantly rising twice as loud. He grabbed Lin Feng's arm and pulled him into the house. "You brat! Why didn't you call ahead before you came back for vacation? I could have picked you up at the airport!"

No sooner had she finished speaking than Lin's mother rushed out of the bedroom without even putting on her slippers properly, wearing only a coat.

"Xiao Feng? It really is Xiao Feng!"

When Lin's mother saw Lin Feng standing in the entryway, her eyes instantly reddened. She quickly walked over, grabbed Lin Feng's arm tightly with both hands, looked him up and down, her eyes filled with heartache and surprise.

"Mom, I'm back! Aren't you surprised?" Lin Feng hugged his mother and gently patted her back.

"You child, how come you've lost so much weight? Did you not eat well abroad? I told you those fast food restaurants aren't nutritious!" Lin's mother touched Lin Feng's cheek, tears welling up in her eyes. "Are you hungry? Mom will make you a bowl of noodles right now, with two poached eggs!"

"Mom, I'm not hungry. I ate on the plane." Lin Feng quickly pulled his mother, who was about to rush to the kitchen, and comforted her with a smile.

Lin Guoqiang watched from the side, trying his best to maintain the dignity of a strict father, but he couldn't hide the smile in the corner of his eyes.

He picked up the broom from the ground and coughed twice, pretending to cough: "Alright, alright, stop making a fuss in the middle of the night. Xiao Feng just had such a long flight, he must be exhausted. Go take a shower and go to sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow."

Despite saying that, Lin Guoqiang still snatched the backpack from Lin Feng's hand and carefully placed it on the sofa.

"Your dad is just being stubborn. Last month, he was so excited when he saw you win the runner-up prize in the competition that he dragged me downstairs in the middle of the night to drink half a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) and even went downstairs to brag to those old men." Lin's mother exposed her husband without any mercy.

"Cough! What nonsense are you talking about! I was just thirsty!" Lin Guoqiang blushed and turned to go into the kitchen to pour water for Lin Feng.

Looking at this warm yet noisy scene, Lin Feng felt his heart filled with warmth.

This is home.

After a quick wash, Lin Feng pushed open the door to his small bedroom, which was only a dozen square meters.

"Smack."

Press the switch on the wall, and the incandescent light bulb will turn on.

Lin Feng stood at the door, looking at the room that was both familiar and somewhat unfamiliar, feeling a mix of emotions.

The room was small, with a single bed, a desk, and a wardrobe crammed into the space. The sheets and duvet cover on the bed had obviously been changed recently, exuding a clean, sun-dried soapy scent, and the corners of the duvet were neatly folded.

On his desk were his junior high school textbooks and a few scattered car models.

Against the wall are small glass display cases.

The cabinet that was originally used to store books is now densely filled with all kinds of trophies and medals.

Lin Feng slowly walked over and gently stroked the glass with his fingers.

On the bottom layer are several small, slightly yellowed plastic trophies. One of them reads, "Runner-up, 2013 National Youth Karting Championship, Capital Station."

The second layer consists of the Grand Prix trophies he won while racing Formula 4 in the country.

The third layer consists of the European F3 Grand Prix championship trophy he won, and the only F2 runner-up trophy he managed to snag.

These trophies may seem insignificant to Lin Feng now, but the original owner's memories flooded into his mind like a tidal wave at this moment.

To win those go-kart trophies, his father, Lin Guoqiang, quit his stable job at a state-owned enterprise and went south to start a building materials business. He worked hard every day, rain or shine, to raise enough money for his son's driving lessons.

To win those trophies in the middle of the equation, my mother worked as a stock clerk in the supermarket. To save a few dollars on groceries, she only bought discounted vegetables that were about to expire.

The elderly couple even sold a small house they had originally planned for Lin Feng's wedding, pouring all their money into that bottomless pit of racing.

Countless days and nights of sweat, tears, ridicule, despair, and perseverance.

The original owner's soul, with mediocre talent but an obsessive love for speed, spent countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in this small room.

Lin Feng's vision gradually blurred.

His gaze slowly moved upwards, landing on the very top of the display case, which was also the most central position.

There, a trophy, its entire body gleaming with a metallic sheen, was placed neatly.

That was the championship trophy he won in his debut race at the Jeddah circuit in Saudi Arabia a few months ago.

The trophy, along with the cheap plastic trophies below it, was all wiped spotless and gleaming.

Not a speck of dust, not a single fingerprint, even the metal seams in the corners of the trophy base were cleaned spotlessly.

Lin Feng could easily picture the scene: every morning, his mother would take the softest velvet cloth and carefully wipe these honors that represented her son's blood and sweat, over and over again.

Every trophy is the source of the elderly couple's greatest pride in their community and in front of relatives and friends, and it is also their deepest longing in the dead of night.

He now wields immense power in the paddock thanks to the abnormal skills granted to him by the system.

But the original owner was able to gradually move from that dilapidated go-kart track to a point where he could touch the threshold of F1, thanks to the unwavering support of his ordinary parents.

Without this kind of all-consuming love, he wouldn't even be qualified to descend upon the paddock.

Lin Feng looked at his reflection in the glass case, sniffed, and reached out to wipe away the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"Dad, Mom, we'll never have to worry about car repair costs again. Your son will win all the trophies in the world for you, one by one, and fill this cabinet to the brim."

Lin Feng turned off the incandescent bulb, leaving only a dim, yellowish table lamp.

He took off his coat and collapsed onto his own bed.

The mattress was a bit firm, but the scent emanating from the bed—a mixture of sunshine, laundry detergent, and the smell of home—completely relaxed Lin Feng's tense nerves at that moment.

Outside the window, the occasional chirping of insects on a summer night drifted in, accompanied by the tire noise of cars occasionally passing by on the road in the distance.

Lin Feng buried his face in the soft pillow, like a soldier who had finally returned home after a long battle.

Exhaustion washed over him like a tide, gently enveloping him.