Chapter 156: Stroll Excluded
On March 13th, the temperature in Melbourne hovered around 20°C—comfortable but cool. A light breeze swept across Albert Park, carrying a faint chill despite the clear skies.
"Track temperature forty degrees. Wind speed two-point-three meters per second," Jonathan Carter reported. "Conditions are ideal."
Jonathan had been assigned as Wu Shi's race engineer for the season.
"It's a good day," Wu Shi replied over the radio. "Track's relatively clean as well."
"That's not a compliment," Felipe Massa said dryly, shaking his head.
Only sixteen cars took part in Free Practice 1, an unusually small field.
Marussia—now operating under the Manor Racing banner—had narrowly avoided collapse after securing emergency funding in February. Though officially entered, their car was still plagued by unresolved software issues, leaving them unable to run.
Sauber, meanwhile, was entirely absent due to an unresolved driver contract dispute.
"Alright," Wu Shi said calmly. "Let's focus on our own work."
Sauber's situation was embarrassing. Manor's was tragic.
Caterham, which had raced only a year earlier, no longer existed at all.
Now a Williams race driver himself, Wu Shi knew better than to comment recklessly. Private teams survived on margins far thinner than the paddock liked to admit.
Albert Park was a demanding semi-street circuit—tight run-off zones, uneven surfaces, and deceptive corner sequences.
Yet FP1 passed without any drivers finding the wall.
Instead, reliability issues dominated headlines.
The Honda power unit struggled badly. Daniel Ricciardo—now driving for McLaren—was forced to stop on track with an engine failure, while both McLaren cars lacked straight-line speed and trailed Force India by nearly two seconds.
After only a handful of laps, they returned to the garage for setup changes. If performance didn't improve in FP2, their engineers would be in for another long night.
At the front, Mercedes remained untouchable.
Both silver cars were more than a second clear of Wu Shi, who sat third on the timing screens.
Still, this was only FP1. Many teams were running heavy fuel loads or incomplete programs.
Williams instructed Wu Shi to increase pace and simulate a qualifying-style run.
FP2 in the afternoon shifted focus to long-run evaluation.
Kevin Magnussen hit the wall, triggering a brief yellow flag. Ricciardo was sidelined entirely after exceeding his power unit allocation.
Massa's car never left the garage—hydraulic failure.
As a result, all of Williams' long-run data collection fell onto Wu Shi.
This kind of session was more exhausting than an actual race.
From pit exit to chequered flag, Wu Shi was in constant communication—tyre degradation, brake temperatures, balance shifts, fuel correction—feeding data to multiple engineering groups in real time.
By mid-session, he was drinking continuously through the straw in his helmet, far more than he ever would during a Grand Prix.
Over ninety minutes, the FW37 pitted four times.
Rear wing angle adjustments. Front wing flap changes. Minor floor tweaks.
At the same time, the mechanics removed and tagged four sets of medium compound tyres—Pirelli's white-marked compound—to send wear data back for joint analysis.
After thirty-three consecutive laps, Wu Shi climbed out of the cockpit, drenched in sweat.
As soon as he returned to the pit wall, Jonathan spoke.
"Our medium degradation is higher than Ferrari's."
Wu Shi nodded. "But the stint held. Thirty-three laps. In the race, one stop should be achievable."
"The late-stint lap-time drop-off is still noticeable."
Wu Shi scratched his head. "It's faster than ideal, but not dramatic. One-stop is still realistic."
Jonathan considered this, then logged the feedback for strategy engineer Rodrigo Barrera.
"Massa didn't run long-distance today," he said. "Your data will affect both cars."
Wu Shi understood the implication.
"No guesswork," he replied. "This is what I felt. I stand by it."
He ran a hand through his hair, exposing his forehead to cool down.
Saturday arrived.
In Free Practice 3, Massa's car was finally repaired and back on track.
Lewis Hamilton set the pace with a 1:27.867. Vettel followed, six-tenths behind. Rosberg trailed by just under a second.
The field began to reveal its true speed.
Wu Shi and Massa both recorded laps in the 1:28.9 range—fourth and fifth fastest.
Williams looked respectable.
But compared to the previous season, the edge was gone.
"Ferrari's picked up pace," Jonathan murmured. "Not sure how much of that is Vettel."
"Our absolute performance has dropped," Wu Shi said.
Jonathan nodded. "Kimi didn't push. That's what worries me."
"Qualifying will tell us everything," Wu Shi replied.
Dave Robson—Massa's race engineer—joined them at the pit wall.
"Good luck," Massa said, extending his fist.
"Good luck," Wu Shi replied, bumping it.
Before qualifying, Max Verstappen wandered over in Toro Rosso colors.
"Your car looks decent," he said casually.
"Can't share data with you anymore," Wu Shi joked.
"If you did, I wouldn't refuse," Verstappen laughed.
"You seemed a bit behind Sainz in practice," Wu Shi observed.
Verstappen hadn't touched his car—an unusual choice during such a tight window.
"Yeah," he admitted. "Dad gave me a lecture."
"Uncle Jos hasn't changed," Wu Shi smiled. "Apart from not racing Schumacher as teammates, you're already not behind him."
"Being teammates with a great driver doesn't prove anything," Verstappen replied flatly.
Wu Shi caught the confidence in his expression.
"You two disagree?"
Verstappen nodded. "He thinks I should adapt as quickly as Sainz. That I shouldn't lose to him. But I'm not losing—I'm still learning the car."
"Sounds like the team hasn't fully shifted toward your setup preferences yet."
Verstappen shrugged. "Once results come, they will."
Wu Shi agreed.
Trust in Formula 1 was earned lap by lap.
During winter testing, Wu Shi hadn't had a single incident. His consistency alone had silenced most doubts.
What remained were questions of age and experience—not ability.
Every driver earned influence the same way.
Except for Stroll.
Who hadn't even set foot in the paddock yet.