A sea of people, wave after wave. Martin Brundle felt like a small boat in a raging storm, barely able to keep his footing. He stared dumbfounded as the tide of red shirts swarmed around the number 22 car, leaving even Vettel and Bottas as mere spectators.
"Kai!"
"Kai!"
It took a Herculean effort for Brundle's old bones to push through the chaos and finally catch Kai.
"You really went full throttle!" The first sentence burst out of him.
Kai's smile bloomed fully. "That's because I was surrounded. It was either go full throttle or get eliminated. I want to stay in the paddock a little longer."
Confident, bright, sharp but not aggressive. He responded to the doubts with neither arrogance nor servility, while clearly stating his position.
It was perfect.
Even Brundle felt his blood stir. "So what's next? The next race is your home race. Are you ready to go full throttle again?"
"Haha." Kai laughed heartily. "Just wait and see."
He didn't give a direct answer, leaving suspense in the air. He maintained humility while showing a determination to win, his youth flying freely on the wind.
It was exactly the same attitude he showed at the pre-race press conference: disdain for verbal entanglement, responding with action, settling it on the track.
Doubts, attacks, ridicule, taunts, let the storm rage harder. He would meet every challenge head-on, chest out and head high.
This was the attitude of Ferrari.
A heritage, a temperament radiating from the inside out, a wildness and pride branded deep in the bone. Not confident because they are champions, but champions because they are confident. Regardless of success or failure, high or low, even if they fall into the dust and mud, they never lose the courage and fighting spirit of a champion.
That aura was innate.
In recent years, Ferrari had been trapped. Since the dissolution of the Schumacher-Todt-Brawn iron triangle, they had struggled to return to the peak. They had top drivers like Vettel and Raikkonen, world champions both, but something was missing. A spirit.
A pride, a wildness, a boldness.
But now,
Brundle saw that aura in the "Baby Driver"!
For a split second, Brundle truly felt it. But it was fleeting, and he doubted his own eyes. Was it a misjudgment? Maybe the Bahrain desert night was too crazy, too hot, and his mind was wandering in the excitement, infected by the atmosphere.
An illusion?
So, was it an illusion?
Brundle felt he should calm down and remain objective. Observe a little longer. The waters of F1 were truly welcoming a storm.
And it wasn't the widely expected Verstappen?
Brundle looked up at the podium, and a smile spread across his face.
On the podium for the second time in a row, Kai had clearly learned his lesson. He opened the champagne deftly and launched a quick counterattack.
Vettel and Bottas clearly lacked chemistry. They hadn't coordinated, and Kai split them up, conquering them individually.
Vettel was clever; sensing the situation was bad, he immediately turned to attack Arrivabene, fleeing the battlefield. As a result, the honest Bottas became the target of Kai's concentrated fire, fleeing all over the place, utterly bedraggled.
Only his second time, and Kai had already switched from defense to offense. He learned fast.
The moment Kai stepped off the podium, sports pages around the globe were dominated by the same photo,
Kai standing on the podium, holding the champagne high. His red racing suit was as bright as fire under the lights. Although his hair was soaked with champagne, it was slicked back casually, revealing the vigor and recklessness of youth. The corners of his mouth were turned up, showing both the sharpness of a newborn calf and the certainty of a seasoned chess player.
Exploding onto the scene! Sweeping the globe!
"Baby Driver Battles the Giants! Kai Single-Handedly Withstands Mercedes Siege!"
"Not Luck, But Skill! Rookie Shows Top-Tier Defense in Bahrain!"
"The Art of Defense: The Extreme Survival of Car 22!"
"Ferrari 1-2 Finish, Kai the Biggest Hero."
"Amidst Chaos and Accidents in Bahrain, Kai Shines Brightest!"
One hundred percent, absolute focus.
Only when people opened the articles did they realize that the winner was Vettel. Everyone was stunned, what was with the headlines?
However, the fact before their eyes was jaw-dropping,
Two races into the new season, the driver sitting high atop the standings was Kai!
The shock hit everyone in the face.
After winter testing, all the predictions inside and outside the paddock, even the most professional and rational ones, even the die-hard Tifosi, had not foreseen this.
A season meant to be a duel between two four-time world champions, a historic first in F1, a season to be remembered... and the result was a Baby Driver popping out of a rock to lead the pack. It was enough to make all the authoritative experts lose face completely.
From Fangio to Hamilton to Verstappen, all of F1's historical records turned to dust before Kai, names rewritten one by one. The road spreading out from under Kai's feet was brand new. Every step created history; every move drew attention.
Actually, the media noise was just the tip of the iceberg. The traffic frenzy on social networks had foreshadowed this early on.
Domestically in China, Kai's Weibo follower count was sprinting toward ten million with the force of a tsunami. It was currently hovering around eight million, but the speed of the surge was terrifying. Crossing ten million was just a matter of time.
However, to be fair, the mass base for motorsport was still weak. Kai's fan count couldn't compare to pop stars, and there was still a clear gap compared to superstars of other sports.
Despite the exposure in Melbourne and Bahrain, the growth was limited. Breaking through the niche barrier to go mainstream wasn't easy.
In contrast, overseas on Instagram, the slow growth early on turned into a blowout after Melbourne. Three million, five million, it kept soaring. After Bahrain, another wave hit, and followers easily broke seven million.
Purely in numbers, Instagram still lagged behind Weibo, but after Monza last year, Weibo's explosion was stronger. Now Instagram was catching up. One could clearly see Kai's influence climbing globally, witnessing the strong rise of a new star idol.
Originally, 2018 should have belonged to Vettel and Hamilton. Now, a dark horse had stolen all the limelight.
This was great. Kai effortlessly offended the fans of the two biggest stars in the paddock, instantly becoming the target of unreasonable attacks from fanatical fanbases.
Crazier than after Melbourne.
No, to be accurate... it was insane!
Only those who have truly experienced the fanaticism of social media anti-fans can understand the scene. "Baring fangs and brandishing claws" wasn't enough to describe it.
"On a track like Bahrain, Mercedes obviously didn't set up the car right. Otherwise, how could that baby hold on for so long?"
"Team strategy helped a lot. The defense was basically nonexistent. If Bottas hadn't scared himself, the result wouldn't be this."
"Hehe. My heart aches for Seb. Pure tool man. No praise for towing, frozen out after winning. Are we just stepping stones?"
"Reading the comments, I thought there was some earth-shattering operation. Watched the highlights, isn't it just driving to the end? You guys can actually praise this?"
"Last race was luck, this race was all teammates protecting him. Brainless fans, give it a rest."
"Invisible the whole race, no highlights. Then praised to the sky after it ends. Who actually likes him?"
"Asking for a friend: Where exactly are the highlights? Took off my pants and looked for half a day, still couldn't find them."
These were just the tip of the iceberg. At least they tried to say something or give examples. The truly filthy, ugly, and terrible comments were too numerous to count. One careless glance at the timeline revealed them. Undoubtedly, they were dissatisfied with Kai, and even more dissatisfied with the unanimous praise for him.
After Melbourne, they could ignore it lightly. But after Bahrain, Kai stood squarely in front of Vettel and Hamilton. No one could ignore him anymore, and the excuse of "luck" no longer worked.
So, the haters surged onto social platforms like a tide, drew their weapons, and launched attacks. Some even started "professional" analysis,
Using slow-motion screenshots to nitpick his entry posture in a certain corner, saying it was "excessive defense," "braking too early," or "the stewards would have penalized it, but the FIA deliberately ignored it."
It was laughable.
If it were just this, it would be considered "conscientious." What was truly outrageous was that some began to pick on Kai's every move off the track, capturing his words, deeds, and expressions, then distorting facts and calling a deer a horse, saying "This is disrespectful to Seb," "This is provoking Lewis," "This is uneducated behavior," and so on.
Making up stories from pictures, taking things out of context, slander and defamation went fully online. The haters brought out all eighteen martial arts, holding nothing back.
From Melbourne to Bahrain, Kai fought back with action. Some voices shut up obediently, quieting down briefly. But then came the rebound. Irrational, crazy voices erupted all at once. The brainless haters corresponding to the brainless fans officially went online, spreading everywhere.
Social networks finally revealed their hideous face.
The humiliation, the shame, the embarrassment of the slap in the face at Bahrain all turned into anger, erupting mightily.
For a time, the paddock seemed to have only two drivers: Kai and everyone else. Attitudes toward Kai were left with only two kinds: adoration and hatred.
F1 had never been so lively. Whether attacks or praise, the noisy voices all revolved around Kai.
After relentlessly hating on Verstappen for three full years, those paddock trolls were facing professional burnout. Continuing to hate on Verstappen seemed to have lost its fun. But in a twist of fate, they found a new target. Dried-up inspiration and passion were reignited, and they were revitalized.
So, was this the legendary "black-red" (infamy leading to fame)?
However, the counterattack from supporters was equally swift. Kai was earning the support of a group of racing enthusiasts with his on-track performance, step by step.
Song Bo soon discovered that his title of "Kai's Number One Fan Leader" was under serious threat.
On YouTube, a racing blogger nicknamed "Data Killer" immediately produced and uploaded a twenty-minute analysis of the Bahrain "Ultimate Defense."
This blogger broke down every braking point, throttle opening, and line choice of Kai in the last ten laps clearly,
"He used the optimal solution for defensive line changing. If Bottas had braked 0.05 seconds later, he would have eaten a track limits warning, and even if he completed the pass, he would have had to give the position back."
"Watch this lap. He deliberately widened the entry radius to make the opponent's exit angle more difficult, causing greater grip loss."
"On thirty-eight-lap-old tires, he could still maintain cornering speed above 92% of original performance. This isn't luck; it's top-tier control."
Everything spoke with data. In the world of racing, numbers don't lie. Behind all success and failure lies inevitability; it's not that simple.
"Analyze purely from data: The Mercedes car did have an advantage in Bahrain, with a significant lead over Ferrari in medium and low-speed corners. But in the end, with tires squeezed almost to the limit, Kai completely suppressed Bottas with top-tier control."
"It wasn't that Bottas performed poorly, against another opponent, Bottas might have passed successfully. It was Kai who put on a top-tier performance to defend against Bottas's attack."
"Compared to Melbourne, the result in Bahrain shows more clearly: This is a victory for the driver."
Rational, objective, well-founded.
After the video was uploaded, it quickly broke into the top ten of YouTube's global trending list. The comments section was a battlefield,
"Haters, shut your mics!"
"Kai God is awesome!"
"Defensive counterattack is textbook. Professor Kai, please open an elective course on racing defense. I'll apply immediately."
Bustling, noisy.
And this wasn't all. Kai's supporters weren't satisfied with just defending; they launched counterattacks on social networks.
In the Bahrain race, on Lap 19, Vettel pitted first, and a pit stop error occurred. Mercedes immediately adjusted their strategy.
Actually, at that time, Ferrari could have totally left Kai on track to block Bottas and respond to Mercedes' tactics.
However, Ferrari didn't.
Ferrari would rather risk being overcut by Mercedes and losing the race win than risk Vettel losing to Kai for the second consecutive race.
Between the championship and team stability, Arrivabene chose the latter.
So, Kai pitted immediately on Lap 20.
It was the same later on. Ferrari dumped the pressure on the rookie Kai to block for Vettel, protecting Vettel to win Bahrain. The result was stabbing Kai in the back,
"Do the supporters of certain drivers have no shame? Eating everything clean and then raking backwards. I've seen shamelessness, but never this shameless."
This poked the hornet's nest. The rolling waves of social networks spun completely out of control. F1 seemed to have never been this lively.
Then, at this critical moment, Sky Sports stepped in.
Judging from the background and clothing, it was a clip of Kai answering questions in the mixed zone before the Bahrain podium ceremony.
In the video, the reporter asked with a smile, "People think a rookie getting on the podium two races in a row, once first and once second, is all luck. What do you think about this?"
Kai, sweating profusely but not looking bedraggled at all, laughed heartily. Not only was he not offended, but his bright eyes were full of smiles. "I heard the third time is lucky, so I'm praying."
"Third time is a charm." It's a proverb. When attempting something for the third time, one often has good luck and will definitely succeed.
So, Kai meant he was preparing for a podium hat trick?
The hum of the airplane engines surged gently against the eardrums. The noise began to drift away, like slowly sinking to the bottom of a lake.
Leclerc frowned slightly, fully focused, eyes unmoving, deep in thought. After a long, long time, he finally moved a piece with his right hand.
Then, staring at the board, another hand appeared on the left, moved a piece, and took Leclerc's piece. "Checkmate."
The little prince of Monaco opposite him was stunned. Finally recovering, he cursed in French, looked up at Kai with despair, "That was a trap, right?"
"You deliberately sold a flaw, waiting for me to attack, right?"
Kai's eyes revealed a smile. "You clearly saw it, but you still couldn't help attacking."
Leclerc grabbed his hair with both hands, like a cat cornered. "But... shouldn't I attack?"
Kai shook his head. "No, of course you should. It's just that your attention was entirely on that flaw, eager to launch an attack, so you ignored the overall situation and missed my follow-up move. So the situation became complicated. We need to examine the whole board and strike at the right time and right position."
Chess is about the whole board.
They were trying international chess. Kai was a novice. He had tried Xiangqi (Chinese Chess) in an extracurricular interest class in elementary school, but the surrounding kids were quickly beaten by him, leaving no fun, so he lost interest. Until now, trying chess for the first time.
The deeper into F1, the more one could feel that this sport was closely related to layout, strategy, and calculation, like chess.
To some extent, racing style is closely related to chess style. The Leclerc before him was like this; the desire to attack was hidden in his bones.
Although Kai was also a novice with immature layout strategies, Leclerc still fell for it.
Leclerc bit his lower lip constantly, staring at the board, reconstructing the game in his mind, low annoyance and depression surging deep in his throat.
That expression looked exceptionally painful.
Leclerc turned sideways and glanced at Kai. "Is this why you obeyed team orders in Bahrain, giving up an attacking opportunity?"
Leclerc was referring to Laps 19 and 20, when the pit wall asked Kai to box instead of leaving him out to block Bottas.
On the radio, Kai expressed his opinion strongly and directly, but ultimately pitted.
Kai smiled. "What, you thought I would stay on track?"
Leclerc shrugged lightly. "If it were you, sure. Why not?"
Kai paused. "I could do that, but not now. If I stayed on track, it wouldn't be as simple as openly opposing Sebastian; it would be openly opposing the team, and even the whole group."
"What chips do I have now? One race win and a potential future based entirely on imagination and guessing. This isn't enough to fight the team. If I want to have a voice and make the team and the sponsors behind it believe in my judgment and choice, I need to increase the weight of my chips."
"Otherwise, I might say goodbye to the paddock completely without even waiting for the summer break."
"A driver who refuses teamwork, goes his own way, and doesn't have enough sponsor support has no future in the paddock."
Attacking, that is a must. Actually, Kai is also full of aggression and competitiveness in his bones.
But Kai knew that attacking blindly without a plan, without considering timing or the overall situation, would be a waste of effort. Not only would it fail to hurt the opponent, but it might also cost him everything,
Valor without strategy is stupidity.
So, in the race, Kai clearly expressed his opinion but still cooperated with the team strategy.
Leclerc's eyes suddenly widened. "Ah, crap!"
Out of nowhere, Kai was full of question marks. "What?"
Leclerc: "You started getting serious. Winning Melbourne when not serious made us rookies shiver. What do we do if you get serious?"
Rarely seeing Leclerc act goofy, a smile flowed in Kai's eyes, and he cooperated very well. "No need to continue the rest of the season, just announce the world champion in advance."
There's always a higher mountain. Leclerc looked at Kai, dumbfounded.
That expression almost made Kai burst into laughter.
Leclerc gave a thumbs up, admitting defeat, and obediently changed the subject. "So, you and Sebastian... everything okay? You didn't take the Ferrari private jet, wasn't because of him, right?"
"Haha." The smile in Kai's eyes overflowed. "Wait, in the airport lounge, Pierre and the others were whispering together, and shut up as soon as I appeared. You guys weren't discussing this, were you?"
Leclerc: "Hehe."
F1 races move constantly between different cities around the globe. Transportation is a severe test. Transporting racing equipment isn't easy, and neither is it for drivers and teams.
Some teams sign cooperation agreements with top private jet operators in the industry to provide business jets and private planes for transfer between cities. Ferrari, Mercedes, Red Bull, McLaren, and Sauber all have their own partner companies providing transportation for drivers.
Other teams don't have such treatment. Drivers must travel like ordinary office workers on business trips, taking commercial flights. As for whether it's business class or economy class, it depends on the budget. It's not unheard of for rookie drivers to choose economy class.
Of course, there are exceptions. Drivers with private jets can travel to the next city on their own, like Hamilton, Räikkönen, and Alonso.
Precisely because of this, when transferring between cities, drivers often travel in groups of three or five. The paddock is a small circle; drivers quickly get familiar with each other, and closeness is clear at a glance.
This was the case right now.
Traveling from Bahrain to Shanghai, Kai didn't follow the Ferrari team but took a commercial flight like other young drivers. All kinds of speculations could no longer be suppressed.
However, Kai didn't mind. He appeared very calm, generous but smiling silently, leaving Leclerc hanging aside.
Watching Leclerc's dumbfounded and slightly constrained appearance, Kai finally couldn't hold back, his smile rising. "No need to overthink. Sebastian took Kimi's private jet. The team didn't arrange a plane this time, so I followed you guys to Shanghai."
Leclerc: ... "That's it?"
Kai: "That's it. Is the truth very disappointing?" Seeing Leclerc's disappointed face, Kai chuckled softly.
"But it can be one hundred percent confirmed that we are not friends. Inside the team, we have almost no dialogue in private. I'm not sure if it's his personality or directed at me. But since he can stay in the same cabin space with Kimi for six hours, it seems he's not that silent."
Leclerc tilted his head, catching information between the lines, a light bulb going off. "You mean, after the race, you confronted him?"
Unexpectedly, Kai nodded. "I asked him what he meant at the start, why he squeezed my racing line?"
Hiss!
Leclerc couldn't control sucking in a cold breath, mouth slightly open, face full of astonishment and shock. His brain couldn't imagine the scene of Kai confronting Vettel face to face.
Only now did he realize he was still too young; exhausting his imagination, he couldn't depict the situation at that time.
Was this normal?
However, Kai didn't continue. Leclerc couldn't help asking, "And then?"
A smile appeared in Kai's eyes, but he didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward, close to the gap between the seats in front, and shouted without warning.
"Bang!"
Gasly bounced up instantly as if electrocuted, then was pulled back into the seat by the seatbelt, making weird noises. The result attracted the attention of others nearby. He covered his mouth and waved his hands, looking flustered and truly comical, like a performing monkey.
Gasly had no idea how Kai discovered he was eavesdropping. At this moment, he couldn't care about pursuing it, simply twisting his upper body around to look through the seat gap. "And then? Kai, and then?"
This time, Kai didn't keep them in suspense.
"He said sorry."
Gasly blinked, almost choking on his saliva. "He must have been scared, didn't expect this rookie to come directly to question him."
Leclerc: "After all, Kimi would absolutely never do that."
In Kai's view, dialogue through a third party could indeed reduce conflict, but words inevitably lose their original meaning during transmission because of the messenger, easily breeding misunderstanding. So it's better to speak openly face to face.
Vettel was indeed caught off guard.
Kai could clearly remember the defensiveness instantly erected in Vettel's eyes. He shrugged lightly. "He said his attention was all on Valtteri, trying to block Mercedes, and completely forgot my existence."
Gasly blurted out, "Bullshit."
Kai continued to add lightly, "He also said, good luck, I happened to block Lewis's racing line, so he lost position after the start."
The subtext was that Kai still needed to thank Vettel for his "teamwork spirit."
Gasly couldn't believe his ears. "That's all?"
Although Gasly and Leclerc were filled with righteous indignation, Kai appeared exceptionally calm and indifferent. For an outsider like him who broke into the paddock halfway, the whole paddock was his enemy. He had to fight for his position step by step with track performance.
Respect is earned through race after race, not a free lunch.
This didn't make Kai depressed or frustrated; on the contrary, this was the challenge, and he was ready to meet all challenges.
Kai looked serious. "I guess he's friendlier than Nico. Wait... or friendlier than Lewis?"
Seeing Kai still had the mind to tease the internal drama of Mercedes from the season before last, the atmosphere relaxed. Leclerc laughed dumbfoundedly. "Haha, at least he didn't throw a punch."
Gasly immediately chimed in. "If he really threw a punch, he'd probably be the one suffering. Doesn't he look at our young blood? Come come come, Kai, show your muscles."
Resultantly, Kai really cooperated to show his biceps. Gasly and Leclerc laughed so hard they leaned back and forth.
Then, Kai saw a flight attendant peeking out from behind the curtain. He realized their noise might be disturbing others.
He patted Gasly and Leclerc, reminding them to control the volume.
Gasly was still cheerful. Although silent, he imitated a gorilla's movements soundlessly, making faces vividly.
The slender flight attendant opened the curtain, walked straight over, stopped beside Kai, squatted down, and looked up into Kai's eyes.
Kai retracted all the flamboyance and unruliness of youth, showing an apologetic smile. "Sorry, we'll control the noise."
The flight attendant was slightly stunned, then reacted, shaking her head gently. "Don't worry. Everything is fine." The smile on her lips was slightly constrained. "I know this behavior is unprofessional, hope I didn't disturb your rest, but, Mr. Lu, can I take a photo with you later?"
This time, it was Kai's turn to be stunned, his brain not turning around for a moment.
Gasly was already peeking over sneakily. "What about us?"
Leclerc complained from the side. "Pierre, don't join the fun, she wants Kai, okay?"
The flight attendant looked shy. "Of course, if you don't mind, we can take a photo together."
Kai finally recovered. "You mean, me? You know me?"
To be honest, the paddock was bustling and lively, but that noise was limited to the paddock. Real life was another look.
So far, Kai had never been recognized outside the paddock and Maranello.
Today he had the first experience on a plane, a position touching neither heaven nor earth.
A light flashed in the flight attendant's eyes. "Of course! Which fan doesn't know Kai now? The first driver in history to win the first race of his career. This is a record that can never be surpassed."
"Youngest in history," such records can always be broken; but winning the debut race, latecomers can at most equal it but never erase Kai's existence.
The corners of Kai's mouth rose. "So, you like racing?"
The young lady in front of him nodded. "Always. My favorite driver used to be Kimi."
Kai: "Oh. So you like handsome drivers."
The young lady was stunned, reacting half a beat later that Kai was boasting about himself. Her smile bloomed instantly. "Yes, exactly, I specifically like handsome drivers."
Meeting a fan outside the paddock for the first time in his life, naturally, couldn't be missed. Kai pulled Gasly, Leclerc, and the others for a group photo. Afterward, he took a separate one with her and politely gave her a hug. The cabin was filled with lightness.
It could be seen that Kai was also slightly at a loss. Meeting a real fan outside the paddock for the first time, he didn't know how to treat it.
It was moments like this that one could clearly feel Kai was only eighteen years old.
The young lady couldn't help reminding him, "Please rest assured, there are many people outside supporting you, cheering for you. Good luck in the Shanghai race!"
Originally, Kai thought this was just polite talk. But after the plane landed, he soon realized it was all true.
Pudong International Airport, Kai couldn't be more familiar with it. The air of his hometown was different after all. Kai was preparing to play the role of host, leading the drivers into the city with familiarity, but after getting off the plane, he was directly invited to the VIP lounge by airport ground staff.
Everyone was confused, not understanding what was happening, looking at Kai one by one.
But now, the host was equally confused.
In Leclerc's eyes, Kai spoke alien language as soon as he opened his mouth. After mumbling with the airport ground staff for a while, he turned around with a strange expression.
Gasly and the others couldn't wait to ask what happened. Kai said with a confused face, "The airport side said the crowd picking up the plane outside is too crowded, worried about accidents. He asked if we need to use the VIP channel to leave directly. The vehicle arranged by the event is there to pick us up directly to the hotel."
Wait, the pickup crowd is crowded, how crowded exactly?
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