F1: The Speed Legend

Weak. Helpless. Trapped.

Surrounded on all sides, outnumbered beyond reason, like meat laid bare on a chopping board while wolves and tigers circled. The air itself seemed tainted with the scent of blood.

Kai had never experienced anything like this before.

He stood there in a daze, vision blurred, mind blank.

Not only Kai. Even Qian Jun and Hubert, innocent bystanders dragged into the storm, instinctively hunched their shoulders. The surging crowd sealed every exit, swallowing them whole. Oxygen thinned rapidly. All they could do was watch helplessly as the roaring heat engulfed them, leaving nowhere to escape.

What on earth was happening?

”Kai, rumors say you are about to sign with Ferrari. Is that true?”

Boom.

A single question detonated like a bomb.

In that instant, it felt as though everyone stopped breathing. The only sound left was the violent pounding of hearts against ribcages, echoing endlessly.

Thump. Thump.

Just a rumor, yet the entire paddock erupted. A tidal wave surged forward, unstoppable. No one was spared. Scalps tingled.

Since Kai’s sudden rise, speculation had never ceased. Mercedes. Red Bull. McLaren. Renault. The noise was relentless. Yet Ferrari had remained eerily calm, never leaking a hint, as though watching the storm from afar.

Still, no one could ignore Ferrari. Kai came from their academy.

Among professionals, however, Ferrari had seemed indifferent. Arrivabene preferred proven champions. A rookie who appeared out of nowhere? Even Hamilton joining Ferrari felt more plausible.

That was why, when whispers surfaced that Ferrari might sign Kai, almost everyone’s instinctive reaction was denial.

”A joke.”

”Another Tifosi prank?”

”McLaren and Renault stirring chaos.”

Speculation flew freely, laughter everywhere.

Then a response emerged from a credible Ferrari internal source. Ferrari was indeed discussing contract details with Kai.

In an instant, the paddock descended into chaos.

Belief and disbelief collided. Mockery, suspicion, calculation, attacks. Some claimed it was a commercial ploy.

Truth aside, one fact was undeniable. The shockwave was real.

Rationality collapsed. Calm vanished. Reporters swarmed toward ART like a flood breaking loose.

This was the most violent media surge since open interviews were permitted. Like sardines migrating, a few reporters arrived first, but behind them came a massive wave charging full speed. It was a spectacle.

Zak Brown watched from afar, breath caught in his throat. His face remained composed, but behind his sunglasses his gaze drifted, unfocused.

So close.

McLaren had almost secured Kai.

And now they had lost him.

Regret crept in fast, heavy, undeniable.

”Damn it.”

Nearby, Guenther Steiner cursed openly, foul language spilling freely.

Early rumors had claimed Kai was headed to Haas. For a while, Steiner had basked in smug satisfaction. People joked Haas would have its own Verstappen.

And now?

Ferrari had snatched him away.

Steiner needed words with Arrivabene.

”Guenther!” Brown called out. ”Congratulations!”

Steiner turned and raised a single finger.

The middle one.

Brown laughed loudly, but bitterness seeped through the smile.

The heat continued to swell into an unprecedented tornado. And at its center, Kai faced siege. His response, however, was not what anyone expected.

”Really?”

”Wow, really?”

Joy flooded his face. Excitement radiated uncontrollably, as if this was the first time he had heard the news.

The reporters froze.

They exchanged looks, baffled. Was the rumor false?

They had arrived brimming with adrenaline, only to be drenched in icy water. Even seasoned reporters were caught off guard.

But veterans never surrendered easily.

”So you’ve never spoken with Maurizio Arrivabene?”

”No.”

Kai answered cleanly, decisively.

It was the truth. He had never discussed joining Ferrari with Arrivabene.

Confusion spread. Kai looked too sincere, too open. Reporters began doubting themselves.

Was the information wrong?

Smoke screens were common in the paddock. Truth was rarely simple.

Yet that innocent face hardly resembled a fox.

”Then why is the paddock convinced you’re signing with Ferrari?”

Kai widened his eyes, disappointment unmistakable. ”So it’s just a rumor? Not real?”

The crestfallen look tugged at heartstrings. It felt like watching a child’s dream shattered.

Hubert stood beside him, stunned. How was Kai handling this so smoothly?

And worse.

Hubert’s nervous expression betrayed him. Sharp eyes caught it instantly.

”Antoine, do you know something?”

All eyes turned. Hubert’s breath stalled.

Before panic could erupt, laughter cut in.

Kai smiled lightly. ”Do you truly believe Ferrari would leak news through Antoine? Or that you can read contracts from facial expressions?”

”Either way, save the effort. Social media is already drowning in fake news. You might as well invent your own.”

Mockery wrapped in humor. The attack was deflected. Control reclaimed.

Nothing was finalized. Loose talk would be foolish. Kai needed no reminder to guard his words, and Hubert’s.

Opportunities like this were not squandered.

Relying on reporters alone?

They were nowhere near enough.

Conversation flowed. Jokes landed. Pressure dissolved.

The reporters looked dazed. Most had never interacted with Kai directly. Until today, he was only a name.

Was this shock therapy?

Qian Jun watched from panic to amusement, reminded of Zhuge Liang debating scholars. Holding back laughter nearly hurt.

Still, reporters pressed on.

”So the rumors are false? Which team will you join next year?”

Kai looked genuinely puzzled. ”Nothing is confirmed. You wouldn’t expect me to invent an answer on the spot, would you?”

Silence.

Qian Jun bowed his head, shoulders shaking.

Others turned away, struggling to suppress laughter.

”I know everyone wants to reach F1. Not everyone gets there. Including me. All I can do now is race well and hope some mysterious cosmic force lends a hand.”

He clasped his hands and prayed theatrically.

Laughter exploded.

The media storm retreated empty handed. No scoop, no breakthrough.

Afterward, Qian Jun finished his work, adrenaline still surging.

Ferrari.

F1.

The first Chinese driver in F1, racing for Ferrari, jumping straight from GP3.

Even imagining it made his heart race.

He restrained himself. Nothing was final. He would not ruin possibilities.

”I believe in you,” he said simply.

Kai smiled. ”Thank you. The road ahead is still long.”

Qian Jun packed up and left, breaking into a run under the sun, grin spreading uncontrollably.

Thursday media day followed. Press conferences erupted across teams.

Contract news dominated. Verstappen. Alonso. Bottas. Raikkonen. Team principal changes.

Yet one topic eclipsed all.

Kai.

Ferrari stood at the center. McLaren. Renault. Haas. Sauber. Even Mercedes and Red Bull were pulled in.

If Kai truly jumped into F1, it would surpass Verstappen’s shock.

If he raced for Ferrari or Renault, it would be seismic.

Monza spun wildly. Even before entering F1, Kai’s influence rippled everywhere.

On the surface and beneath it. Garages. Media rooms. Grandstands. Social networks.

Everywhere.

Speculation raged.

Yet strangely, insiders were blind. No leaks. No confirmations. Sponsors silent.

Patience was advised. Truth would surface.

That night, in a hotel room, Arrivabene paced.

Curtains drawn. Lights dimmed.

Marchionne lounged calmly beside freshly printed contracts.

They intended to finalize everything at the peak of chaos.

Arrivabene felt tension surge. He hated it.

What if Kai did not show?

A ridiculous thought. Who would reject Ferrari?

Marchionne spoke calmly. ”Perhaps he chooses not to come.”

Arrivabene gasped. Impossible.

Marchionne outlined McLaren’s appeal. Core role. Absolute support.

Arrivabene disagreed, pride unyielding.

Then came the knock.

The door opened.

”Kai.”

The room exhaled.

Apologies were exchanged. Journalists explained away.

Nicolas revealed the escape.

Admiration followed.

Arrivabene stepped forward, extending his hand. ”Good evening, Kai.”

Warm greetings. Seats taken.

Contracts signed.

One signature landed quietly on paper.

Yet its echo would shake Formula One.

”Welcome to Ferrari.”

Outside, night deepened.

Then Will Buxton posted.

Ferrari had signed Kai Zhizhou.

Sky Sports confirmed it.

The world erupted.

And one question cut through the noise.

”So, Sebastian or Kimi?”

A gun pressed to the back of a head.

The game had truly begun.