Chapter 124: Simulator
On the evening of May 25th, the new generation of drivers gathered for a party. There was no talk of lap times, setups, or championships—just a group of young men drinking, joking, and bragging about anything except racing.
The next morning, Wu Shi woke up slowly. He and Verstappen had stayed the night at Leclerc's place.
For drivers, leisure time was a luxury. Once they opened their eyes, it usually meant only one thing—back to the Netherlands, back to training.
Verstappen was in particularly high spirits. He hadn't driven in more than thirty-six hours, and his hands were itching for the steering wheel.
Wu Shi understood that feeling well. After watching an F1 Grand Prix up close, even he felt a restless urge building in his chest.
Before he could even reach the airport, his phone rang.
"Hello, I'm on my way back to the Netherlands," Wu Shi answered.
"No, no, no—don't go to the airport," Sid said urgently. "Turn around right now. I've sent you an address. Go there immediately."
Sid's voice was so loud and excited that even Verstappen, standing nearby, could hear him.
Verstappen raised his eyebrows in surprise, silently asking what had happened.
Wu Shi made an OK gesture and asked into the phone, "What's going on?"
"It's Hamilton," Sid said, barely able to keep his composure. "Simon Fuller's XIX Entertainment just contacted me. You know—that's Hamilton's management team. He wants to invite you to his place for a talk."
Sid was so excited that he stuttered.
Wu Shi almost said that he didn't even know who Hamilton's management team was, but that clearly wasn't important right now.
"Alright," he said simply. "I'll head over."
He had no idea what Lewis Hamilton wanted from him—but that didn't stop him from going.
Wu Shi called an Uber and soon arrived at Hamilton's residence. Inside the red-walled apartment, the front door stood open. At a glance, he spotted the elderly man sitting casually on the living room sofa.
What immediately drew Wu Shi's attention, however, was the massive simulator positioned on the west side of the room.
"Mr. Hamilton, I'm here," Wu Shi said politely.
"Welcome," Hamilton replied with a smile. "The young man from China. You've grown a lot in the blink of an eye."
Wu Shi laughed. "I still remember the first time we met. That moment is something I'll never forget."
"The paddock will give you another unforgettable moment one day," Hamilton said calmly.
With his hands in his pockets, he walked toward the simulator and nodded at it. "Take a look. What do you think this is?"
"A simulator," Wu Shi answered without hesitation.
The machine was impossible to miss: a three-screen panoramic display, a six-axis motion platform, and a sharply sculpted cockpit—an unmistakable Formula One simulator.
"Correct," Hamilton said. "An F1 simulator. Go on—give it a try."
"Alright." Wu Shi didn't ask questions. He climbed straight in.
"I've already set everything up," Hamilton added. "If you don't mind, you can stay here a few more days."
As the system powered on, dense telemetry and setup parameters flashed across the screens. Moments later, the starting grid appeared.
Even though he had never driven this circuit in real life, Wu Shi recognized it instantly.
Suzuka.
"Out lap first," Hamilton said.
Wu Shi nodded and pulled away.
During the first three laps, he focused on adapting to the steering wheel and controls, occasionally asking about certain unlabelled rotary switches and buttons. Every F1 steering wheel was bespoke—only the driver and the race engineer truly knew what each control did.
On his fourth lap, Wu Shi crossed the line and began a flying lap.
He opened DRS on the main straight, deployed full ERS, switched the engine to qualifying mode, and the simulated power unit unleashed a deafening roar.
Eighth gear.
The speed climbed rapidly—344 kilometers per hour before Turn 1.
"Sixth gear through Turn 1," Hamilton's voice suddenly echoed behind him. "Keep bleeding speed. Down to fourth for Turn 2."
Wu Shi followed the instructions precisely.
Exiting Turn 2, he accelerated onto the short straight, entering Turns 3 and 4 in fifth gear at around 240 km/h. He modulated the throttle delicately, lifting and squeezing as he threaded through the high-speed S Curves from Turns 3 to 7.
"Flat through Seven," Hamilton continued. "Up to eighth, then commit into Degner One."
The scenery blurred. At over 280 km/h, Wu Shi hit the brakes hard, snapped down the gears, and turned in decisively. Even at the apex, the speed was still above 240 km/h.
The sensation was brutal—like being thrown into the corner in the blink of an eye.
Even on a simulator, the lateral load was intense. In a real car, the G-forces would be punishing.
Degner Two demanded restraint. Wu Shi slowed further, entering in fourth gear at around 150 km/h.
"You can push again on the short straight," Hamilton said. "Brake late for the curve at Ten. Set the car up for Hairpin."
Wu Shi completed the lap cleanly and crossed the line at full throttle.
The timing screen flashed.
1:37.661.
"Not bad," Hamilton said.
Wu Shi exhaled. "There's still a lot of margin. I'm not fully exploiting the downforce yet."
He could feel it—his inputs were conservative, and some habits didn't translate perfectly in a simulator.
"Last year," Hamilton added, "Webber took pole here in the Red Bull with a 1:30.915."
"That's quick," Wu Shi replied. "But these cars are clearly slower than last year's."
Hamilton nodded. "First season of the hybrid era. That's normal. I qualified third here last year—1:31.253."
Wu Shi didn't respond. He simply reset and went again.
After watching for a while, Hamilton turned and sat down on the sofa behind him.
"If you want to use this simulator regularly," he said casually, "I'll have someone give you a key. You can come over whenever you like."
"Thank you," Wu Shi said sincerely. "That's incredibly generous."
"It's just collecting dust most of the time," Hamilton replied. "Use it to learn the circuits—but don't let it fool you. A simulator is for familiarity, not for teaching you how to actually drive."
Hamilton had never been a believer in simulators. To him, real data came only from real track running. He completed simulator work when required by the team, but he rarely touched one in his free time.
"I understand," Wu Shi said. "Still, thank you."
Hamilton stood up. "I've got somewhere to be."
He handed a key to the maid in the side room, said a few quiet words, and headed out.
From start to finish, neither of them mentioned why Wu Shi had been invited so suddenly—or what this unexpected test truly meant.