Chapter 111: Have You Ever Been to School?
When the two walked out of the Mercedes headquarters, they were greeted by one of the rarest sights in the United Kingdom—a clear night sky. A bright moon hung overhead, the lights of the buildings below twinkling like scattered stars, and the soft chirping of insects accompanied their footsteps.
Sid's face was stiff from smiling, yet the corners of his mouth stubbornly refused to fall.
He clutched his briefcase so tightly it seemed as though he feared it might fly away.
"I never expected the seats would be decided like that!" His hoarse voice trembled with excitement.
In the contract, Mercedes promised Wu Shi a practice session during the Japanese Grand Prix. His performance there would determine what followed.
As for the countless power struggles and backroom tug-of-war that would surely come later… that was a problem for another day.
Of course, the contract included breach clauses. If Wu Shi walked away, the penalty was a painful ten million euros.
Clearly, it was meant to keep him from escaping.
In return, Mercedes agreed to a 15-million-euro penalty if they breached—Niki Lauda's promised "sincerity."
Wu Shi had nothing but gratitude for the old man. He began as a candidate for a mere third-driver role and somehow forced his way into fighting directly for a Mercedes seat.
"We need to find a way to terminate the contract with Rafa first," Sid said.
"Mm."
Sid had fought hard to make the breach clause reciprocal, worried that LaFerrari would bail on them. But now… the clause had become their shackle.
"Well… can't I just not win?" Wu Shi said after thinking it over.
"Huh? That's a championship! Why would you give up something like that?" Sid stared at him like he had grown two heads.
Every trophy was a great honor. Who would toss one aside so casually?
And wasn't that… sort of contrary to the racing spirit?
"We already have six at home. Plus all the kart trophies. Aunt Martina complains that they're taking over the house. She says we need a dedicated storage room."
Wu Shi spoke half-heartedly—not because he didn't value honor, but because he was, after all, human.
He really didn't want to go through another insane chase like the one at Hockenheim.
The feeling of being mentally and physically wrung dry—one drop at a time—was awful. If not for the ibuprofen, the splitting headache afterward would've kept him awake the entire night. It was torture.
Just thinking of Hockenheim made his scalp tighten.
"These honors might be common for you," Sid suddenly said, "but I still hope you take them seriously."
Noticing Wu Shi's look, he added quickly, "I'm not criticizing you. I'm passing on what I believe are the right values."
"Yeah, I know." Wu Shi didn't argue. When elders gave moral lectures, the smart thing to do was to nod.
---
They took a night flight to France to prepare for Friday's practice and qualifying.
The Pau Circuit was a street circuit inside a city—narrow, cramped, and so tight that qualifying had to be split into two groups to avoid traffic jams.
"I've only ever seen the Pyrenees Mountains in geography textbooks before," Wu Shi remarked.
"Hm?" Sid looked confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"What?"
"Have you ever been to school?" Sid said mercilessly. "Just say you saw them in a textbook."
"…"
No comeback. None.
"I didn't study much. I'm just a teacher," Wu Shi said.
"What does that mean?"
"In our place, the uneducated are called illiterate. This is how you write it."
Wu Shi scribbled the characters on a paper bag.
"And this is how you write 'Zhang Yu.'"
Two more characters.
"Wow… aren't they the same?"
"Yes. Which means you are illiterate too. Hahaha!"
"Aren't these the same set of… things?" Sid stared, completely baffled.
"Of course not. Look—this part, and this part—"
"Ohh… it's pretty interesting. Like letters made from similar shapes."
"All right, enough joking. I need to prep for the race."
"Okay. Do your best. After your seat is confirmed on Thursday, I'll have time to watch your matches."
---
Friday morning featured two practice sessions—11:10 and 11:55.
"Wu, be careful. This track is very narrow and twisty," Alan reminded him. "Even if you've driven it in the simulator, take it slow and control your speed."
"Got it."
The Pau circuit had sixteen turns. In some places, it was barely wider than a two-lane road. The latter half was a looping maze, and one mistake meant hitting the wall. It was Monaco-esque.
Actually, all street circuits were like this: no run-off, no buffer, no forgiveness.
From above, the track's outline looked like a floating ghost—twisted and uneven.
Accidents were inevitable. Even in practice.
Wu Shi entered with extreme caution. He had never raced here before, and the limited simulator time wasn't enough to truly learn the track. On top of that, the data used by small teams' sims often differed heavily from reality.
Today's two practice sessions were the only real chance to memorize the track.
He drove slowly for the first few laps, feeling out the terrain, adjusting pace, and having the team record and tweak data.
After two sessions, Panchik set the fastest time in FP1, and Ocon topped FP2. Wu Shi's pace advantage wasn't big.
As soon as the session ended, Wu Shi removed his helmet, ready to hunt for French food—only to be immediately surrounded by reporters.
"Wu! You look like you struggled a bit. Not used to street circuits?"
"I've never raced here before, so I'm unfamiliar. But I don't think I struggled," Wu Shi replied honestly.
"Oh! We hope you do well in qualifying! Your performance last weekend shocked everyone. Any plans for next year?"
They were hungry for F1 news—especially since Wu Shi had been photographed entering and leaving Mercedes headquarters yesterday.
Wu Shi didn't know he'd been exposed. He'd been far too busy to check his phone.
"It's only May. Too early to talk about next year," he shrugged, ending the interview.
After getting changed, he called Verstappen, Foucault, and a few others to head back to the hotel.