F1: The Speed Legend

Knock, knock-knock.

A crisp, polite knock echoed in the hallway. The sound was so careful, it was as if the person was afraid of hurting the door.

After a short wait, the door opened, but just a crack. Kai’s head poked out, peering cautiously.

Zhou Guanyu was about to say hello, but the sight just left him confused.

Before Zhou could speak, Kai yanked the door open, grabbed him, and pulled him inside. He then stuck his head back out to scan the hallway. Seeing it was empty, he quickly pulled back in, shut the door, and turned to Zhou, putting a finger to his lips.

Zhou was completely disoriented. ”Kai, what are you doing? Why are you being so secretive?”

Kai ignored him and walked straight into the room.

Zhou followed his gaze and immediately noticed the steaming, divided hotpot on the table. His eyes lit up. ”Hotpot!”

”Shh!” Kai hissed.

Zhou quickly lowered his voice, his eyes sparkling. ”Hotpot?”

”Hehe,” Kai grinned. ”A holiday bonus. A ’Cheat Day.’ But we have to keep it a secret, or Coach Blasco will turn into a little devil.”

Karl Blasco, the Ferrari Driver Academy’s physical coach. He had no background in racing; he was a professional triathlete who had competed in both the Sydney and Athens Olympics, finishing in the top twenty both times. He was, without a doubt, a top-tier athlete. Despite not knowing racing, Blasco’s objective, outsider’s perspective was invaluable. And he was famous for being strict, rigid, and merciless—an absolute terror.

Zhou’s eyes went wide. He held his breath, as if remembering his own holiday meals at home, and instinctively sucked in his stomach.

Kai caught this from the corner of his eye, a small smile playing on his lips. ”It’s fine, it’s fine. We’re already this far. One extra meal won’t make a difference.”

Zhou blinked, stunned, but his gaze was fixed on the bubbling pot. He swallowed. His training diet was usually so strict that, now on holiday, his self-control was noticeably weaker. His body was being more honest than his brain.

As if in a trance, Zhou took two steps forward, his eyes glued to the pot.

Kai had already deftly set out an extra bowl and chopsticks.

Before Zhou even knew what was happening, a piece of freshly cut beef was in his mouth. He let out an involuntary, satisfied sound. ”This hotpot, this base... did your family send it?”

Kai shook his head. ”No, too much trouble. A friend of mine in Rome found it for me. I can give you his contact info if you want.”

(Lorenzo: Ah-choo! Who? Who’s talking about me?)

Zhou looked at him with admiration. He knew how hard it was to make real local friends in a foreign country. Kai had actually managed to do it. The guy was on another level.

Kai picked up a plate of daikon radish and corn, asking Zhou with his eyes: Spicy side? Or mild?

Zhou waved his hand to indicate he didn’t care, but he couldn’t help but stare at the bizarrely-shaped radish. He couldn’t imagine how Kai had managed to cut it or what that poor vegetable had been through.

Kai, completely unfazed, dumped them in—radish into the spicy side, corn into the mild. ”Why are you back today, anyway? I thought the holiday lasted two more days? I was sneaking this meal because I thought I had the place to myself until tomorrow.”

It was just a casual question, but Zhou’s expression dimmed, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. His ”panda eyes” suddenly seemed much more pronounced.

After a beat, Zhou changed the subject. ”Oh, right, I forgot.”

He stood up and grabbed a large bag he’d brought with him. ”Snacks. All from home. My mom didn’t know what you liked, so she just bought a little bit of everything.”

”Your mom?” Kai was surprised.

Zhou scratched his head, looking shy. ”Yeah. I guess I mentioned you on the phone a lot... you know, that we had someone else from home at the academy. And... you’ve been looking out for me, so my mom said I had to bring you something. She was going to buy some traditional local stuff, but I told her that was too old-fashioned, so...”

Kai tilted his head. ”Looking out for you? Me? Did I? Zhou, are you sure?”

The string of questions made Zhou burst out laughing, but it was cut short.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knock came again, this time more firm and confident.

Kai and Zhou both froze, afraid to move, wondering if they’d imagined it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

There it was again.

Kai was totally confused. He walked past Zhou, went back to the door, and cautiously opened a small crack to peek out.

Leclerc was standing there, beaming. ”Hey! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!”

He hadn’t even finished the sentence before Kai yanked him inside.

Leclerc stumbled, completely disoriented. His eyes immediately landed on the steaming hotpot and the table that was so overflowing with ingredients it looked like it might collapse.

Zhou immediately dropped his chopsticks, raised his hands, and took three steps back to prove his innocence. The oily sheen on his lips, however, betrayed him.

”Charles, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,” Kai said, giving him a standard European greeting hug.

Leclerc, still stunned, finally processed the situation. He held up a red, gift-wrapped box. ”My parents heard you were spending the holiday here alone, and they insisted I give this to you. If you’re here alone again next year, you’re welcome to come to our place.”

Kai politely took the gift, looking from the box to Leclerc. ”Sorry, I don’t have a gift for you. This is so rude of me. But hey, have you eaten? Maybe you could try some food from my hometown? As a gift in return.”

Leclerc hesitated, his body language suggesting he was about to leave, but his eyes were glued to the divided pot. ”What’s that bright red stuff?”

”An elixir,” Kai said.

Leclerc gave him a look that was just short of an eye-roll.

Kai laughed heartily. He grabbed another set of chopsticks, pressed them into Leclerc’s hand, and, before he could react, pushed him down into a seat. ”Charles, chopsticks. You good? Or do you need a fork?”

Leclerc looked at the chopsticks. He didn’t answer, just picked them up. His grip was a little awkward, but functional. He just didn’t know what to do next. For someone used to individual plates, the communal pot was confusing.

Kai didn’t say anything. He just reached his own chopsticks into the red broth, grabbed a piece of beef, dipped it in his sauce bowl, and ate it.

Leclerc understood immediately and began to copy him.

Seeing this, a smile touched Zhou’s lips. The normally introverted and quiet Leclerc had this side to him, too.

Zhou looked at Kai again, hesitant, for the second time that day, something clearly on his mind.

Kai seemed to sense it and looked over, smiling.

Zhou relaxed a little. He was still hesitant, but on an impulse, the words tumbled out. ”Kai... if you had a choice between two teams... one was a big team, but all the resources were going to someone else. The other was a small team, but you would get more resources and more opportunities.”

”Which one would you choose?”

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