No chicken soup, no inspirational speeches, no empty comfort. Only a challenge.
Charles Leclerc watched Kai's retreating figure, and instinctively straightened his back.
Kai was right. He hadn't chosen this path because racing was easy. He chose it because it was a challenge.
He remembered being four or five years old when his father first took him karting. He fell in love instantly, desperate to go again.
Although his father had also dreamed of racing and hoped his sons would inherit that passion, he never forced them. In fact, he often tried to dissuade them, reminding them how long and arduous the road was. He always said he would support them 100% if they chose to quit.
Leclerc had thought about quitting three times.
First, when his older brother Lorenzo gave up. Second, when the family funding dried up. Third, when his father was diagnosed with a terminal illness.
Yet, after every valley of despair, the fire inside burned brighter.
He didn't love racing because it was effortless or because he always won. He loved it because a driver must constantly face difficulties and push the limits.
The beauty of a dream isn't in its easy fulfillment, but in its ability to ignite passion and drive, fueling every day of life.
The frustration was real. The pain of failure was real. But he wouldn't run away anymore.
Leclerc looked up at the figure ahead. Wasn't that the perfect example? An outsider who burst onto the scene out of nowhere, yet was already walking ahead of him.
Ahead of not just him, but many, many drivers.
So, he needed to catch up. He had never entered the paddock expecting a smooth ride.
"Kai!"
Leclerc shouted, pushing off on his skateboard to catch up.
"Race you on the simulator tonight. Loser buys dinner."
Kai turned back. "Menu choice? Not pizza again?"
Leclerc laughed. "No, not pizza. Chef's choice."
One following the other, the two rookies of the 2018 season sped through the moonlight and the Monaco night. The race had just ended, but a new competition had already begun.
Meanwhile, in the paddock, the knives were out and the undercurrents swirled.
The Mercedes garage was still bright with activity. They hadn't packed up yet. Toto Wolff had to admit he had misjudged.
He knew Kai had potential, but he hadn't expected it to be this explosive. In his rookie season, Kai was already threatening Mercedes.
Wolff had always favored Max Verstappen. He believed Verstappen's raw potential was worth betting on, and he kept a hawk's eye on the internal strife at Red Bull.
But now, it seemed Kai's ceiling might be even higher than Max's. If the Safety Car in Melbourne was a lucky break, the Overcut in Monaco was a demonstration of comprehensive skill—not just driving, but strategic intelligence.
It was a pity. Mercedes had the first move but let Ferrari snatch him up. Wolff cursed his own caution. Now, Kai was becoming Ferrari's lethal weapon against the Silver Arrows.
He couldn't sit still any longer.
Of course, Ferrari, like Red Bull, wasn't a monolith. High-level power struggles created opportunities. Just like with Verstappen, seeing Kai in a silver race suit wasn't impossible in the future.
But that was a long game. No rush for now.
The immediate priority was adjusting strategy for the 2018 season.
Mercedes needed to treat Kai with the respect he deserved. Not as a rookie, but as a direct obstacle to their title defense.
Not just for the Constructors' Championship, but in the Drivers' standings too. Kai was now a contender.
Externally, Wolff believed tensions must be rising between Vettel and Kai. Vettel wouldn't be happy about Kai's position in the standings. Wolff needed to stir the pot, fan the flames. A fire in the rival's backyard was an opportunity for Mercedes.
Internally, Wolff decided their strategy had to shift. They had treated Kai as a simple number two driver. Now, while he might still be the "number two" on paper, his strategic role was far more complex. Two Grand Prix wins changed the equation.
Red Bull was likely thinking the same. They had all underestimated the "Baby Driver."
No, starting today, they couldn't call him "Baby Driver" anymore. Using that nickname internally implied they still lacked respect for his threat level. Maybe they could use it in the media to attack him, but inside the team, it was banned.
Knock, knock!
Wolff called out, and Hamilton and Bottas walked in.
Step one: Communicate with his drivers. Get their input and ensure they understood the shift in Kai's strategic threat level.
The season wasn't even a third of the way through. There was time to adjust. Wolff wasn't the type to deny mistakes. If admitting an error helped them win the championship, what was the difficulty?
While Mercedes held their crisis meeting, Red Bull was doing the same.
Wolff and Horner might despise each other, but your enemy often knows you best.
Horner realized immediately that their strategy today—pitting Ricciardo to cover Vettel—had dictated the race outcome.
If Red Bull continued to ignore Kai's value, they would repeat the same mistake.
But Horner's thoughts were more complex. He knew Arrivabene's pride. Red Bull just needed to make a gesture, showing they took Kai seriously. If Mercedes also started focusing on Kai, Arrivabene would get paranoid.
This meant that when Ferrari planned their strategy, Vettel would remain the core.
So, Red Bull needed to reposition Kai as a "smoke bomb" in the strategic game, setting traps for Arrivabene.
Even if Arrivabene didn't bite, making him hesitate was enough.
Horner knew Arrivabene's weakness in strategic decision-making. He would exploit it. And compared to Kai, Horner was better at handling Vettel.
After all, Vettel was a Red Bull product. Horner had groomed him into a world champion; now, he could exploit Vettel's weaknesses to make him Ferrari's liability.
Horner needed Arrivabene to keep believing in Vettel. That was Red Bull's opportunity.
So, Red Bull needed to adjust.
However, in Horner's view, they faced a more severe problem. A fatal flaw.
Kai?
Sure, be vigilant. But Horner didn't think Kai's threat level was that high.
This was the fundamental difference between Horner and Wolff.
Although Horner had noticed Kai in GP3, he never believed Kai's raw talent exceeded Verstappen's.
Horner wasn't truly worried about Kai because he believed Ricciardo and Verstappen had everything needed to be future champions. Red Bull didn't lack talent.
The only problem was management discord. Jos Verstappen's terrifying control, Helmut Marko's toxic politicking, and the internal power struggles tearing at their resources.
If they could put aside prejudice and trust Ricciardo, he could be champion now.
Ideally, Ricciardo leads them to glory, Max matures, and they have a seamless transition. Perfect.
Unfortunately, while Horner wanted to help Max grow without bias, Jos and Marko refused to give Ricciardo breathing room.
So, yes, adjust strategy regarding Kai. But Horner wasn't losing sleep over him.
Honestly, Jos and Marko were bigger headaches.
But there was one problem bigger than Jos or Marko. A fatal flaw that could ruin everything.
The engine.
The engine problem had plagued Red Bull and Toro Rosso for years.
Currently, their supplier was Renault.
The French manufacturer had an attitude. As one of only four suppliers, they rested on their history, treating Red Bull—a customer team—with arrogance rather than partnership.
Red Bull was the client, paying the bills, yet they were treated like a nuisance.
The Monaco GP pushed Horner's frustration to a new peak.
Qualifying: Verstappen's PU failure.
Race: Ricciardo's MGU-K failure.
Horner wasn't worried about Kai's "miracle drive." In his eyes, without Ricciardo's engine issue, Kai's Overcut would have failed. That win belonged to Red Bull.
More importantly, a Monaco win for Ricciardo (following Shanghai) would have given Horner more leverage against Marko.
Resources were quietly shifting to Verstappen because of the pressure Jos and Marko applied. Max's underperformance was being blamed on "lack of support."
Horner was stuck. Ricciardo was the number one driver, but Marko's interference hamstrung the strategy.
The real trouble: Ricciardo's contract was expiring.
Ricciardo was Horner's strongest ally in the team. He needed him to stay to counter Marko's influence.
But Ricciardo needed a reason to stay. He wouldn't waste his prime years playing second fiddle.
A Monaco win would have bought Horner time.
Result?
Blame Renault.
Compared to Kai, Horner's focus was entirely on the French manufacturer.
Post-race, Horner lodged a furious protest with Renault. He didn't hold back.
Red Bull paid for a service. Renault failed to deliver. If they couldn't provide a reliable engine, Red Bull would look elsewhere.
After venting his rage, Horner hung up and instantly calmed down. The screaming man from seconds ago vanished.
It was a performance. He needed Renault to feel the heat.
Now, mental adjustment. Monaco wasn't a total loss. Red Bull had championship pace. If Mercedes and Ferrari focused only on each other, Red Bull could steal the initiative.
As for Kai...
Horner rubbed his chin, deep in thought. Then he stood up and stormed out of his office, looking for Verstappen.
As expected, Max was watching race replays. His life was racing.
Max had had a rough start to 2018. Kai's arrival put immense pressure on him, breaking his "youngest ever" records. The media mocked his crashes.
Max had become aggressive, desperate to prove himself.
Horner saw Monaco as a turning point.
Despite the PU failure, Max kept his head, charging from P20 to P9 on a track where passing is impossible.
Horner didn't think Jos or Marko would praise Max. But he knew a little validation could transform him.
Kai could be a useful tool to motivate Max.
"Hey, Max. Not going home yet? What's this? Kai's twelve laps?" Horner put on a fatherly expression, patting Max's shoulder.
This was the difference between Horner and Marko.
Marko used pressure to crush coal into diamonds. Horner was flexible; he knew when to use the carrot.
Right now, Max was controlled by Jos and Marko. But who knew? When Max's wings fully hardened, he might become Horner's ace.
Opportunity.
Horner looked at Max with benevolent eyes.
"You did great. You don't need to compare yourself to anyone. Your only opponent is yourself."
"Not even Kai."
At that very moment, on a private jet, Kai sneezed. Achoo!
Wait, who was talking about him?
Achoo! Achoo!
Three sneezes in a row. Kai looked around the spacious cabin. Empty, save for the hum of the engines and the AC.
The noise woke Frédéric Arnault, who was dozing. He snapped his eyes open, pretending he had been working.
Their eyes met.
Arnault cleared his throat, awkwardly changing the subject. "How is the studying going? I honestly don't know why you insist on going back for this exam."
"A promise." Kai smiled, not calling out the deflection. "I promised my mom I wouldn't neglect my education for racing."
"I know I don't need to take it. But a promise is a promise. I believe some things are more important than simple wins and losses."
"Racing is cool, but it's not my whole life."
From GP3 to F1, the world had been a whirlwind of glamour and excess. Especially Monaco. It was easy to get lost.
Kai understood now why so many young prodigies burned out like meteors, swallowed by the fame and fortune.
This was why Jiang Mo insisted on school.
Keep your feet on the ground. Don't get lost in the bubbles of champagne.
Nothing kept you humble like a stack of math problems.
Arnault glanced at the thick pile of papers. Kai had been studying since takeoff. He wasn't just talking.
The closer he got to Kai, the more surprises he found.
Arnault was impressed, but Kai changed the subject casually.
"By the way, thanks for letting me hitch a ride to Shanghai."
Arnault waved a hand. "It was on the way."
Kai's eyes twinkled. "Right. You're going from Monaco to Shanghai... and then 'on the way' to Montreal?"
Arnault heard the teasing but stayed cool, spreading his hands. "Just passing through."
Kai tilted his chin, nodding sagely. "Ah, like a taxi, right?"
Arnault studied Kai, curiosity piqued. "When did you figure it out? It's not a coincidence."
Kai looked unsurprised. "The third son of the LVMH empire inviting a stranger onto his private jet? No, that's not a coincidence."
Arnault spread his hands. "Why not? For me, it really is just a small favor."
Kai tilted his head, thinking, then realized his mistake. "Sorry. I shouldn't project my perspective onto yours. Obviously, we view private jets differently."
Arnault feigned anger. "Are you mocking me?"
Kai raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not Ethan Hunt. Please don't throw me out at 30,000 feet."
"Haha." Arnault laughed. "You really are an interesting guy."
Kai looked surprised. "You know Ethan Hunt?"
Arnault's eyes widened in mock offense. "Of course. 'Mission Impossible,' Tom Cruise, right? I grew up watching movies too." Seeing Kai's skeptical face, Arnault exclaimed, "What kind of life do you think I live?"
Kai spread his hands. "I don't know. Poverty limits my imagination."
"Hahaha." Arnault couldn't stop laughing. "So, when did you know?"
Kai: "Know what?"
Arnault: "My relationship with LVMH?"
Kai: "Is that supposed to be a secret? If you want, I can pretend I don't know and we're just normal friends."
"Honestly, I'd prefer to pretend. I don't mind you being a normal person. Otherwise, I worry about the price of this 'small favor'."
Arnault scrutinized Kai. His curiosity deepened.
People always wanted something from him. Since childhood, he was surrounded by wolves and sycophants. He calculated every relationship in terms of interest.
But now?
This guy put the secret on the table and pushed it away casually, without a hint of greed.
Arnault raised his voice. "So, what do you think I want?"
Kai glanced at him. "Are we revealing the answers already?"
Not answering, but throwing the question back. Arnault relaxed. Talking to smart people was a pleasure.
Arnault: "Are you like this with Sergio too? Is that why he respects you?"
Kai didn't mind the deflection. "Mr. Marchionne is a good person."
Arnault burst out laughing. "Sergio is many things, but trust me, he is absolutely not a 'good person'."
Kai remained unmoved. "That's because we stand in different positions, so we see different views. I say he's a good person; I didn't say he was kind."
The Monaco GP was over, and Kai was heading to Shanghai for the Gaokao (National College Entrance Exam). But the Canadian GP was the very next weekend. They had to fly to Montreal immediately after.
The schedule was brutal.
Arrivabene had opposed it. He didn't want Kai distracted. They needed to prepare for Canada.
Traveling from Europe to Asia to North America? The jet lag alone would kill a rookie. For a school exam? Ridiculous.
But Marchionne approved it.
Marchionne kept his promises. He had watched Kai grow from the Academy to F1. He knew Kai's persistence and trusted his ability to manage his energy.
More importantly, this grounded nature was why Marchionne valued Kai. Clear-headed, rational, unmoved by external noise. That conviction was key to his success.
An exam meant nothing to Ferrari. But Marchionne understood what it meant to Kai.
So, Marchionne gave the green light and arranged the private jet.
However, he didn't want to compromise the Canadian GP.
A small complication arose. Arnault heard about it and volunteered his own jet to ferry Kai to Shanghai and then Montreal.
Reason?
"On the way."
So here Kai was, on an LVMH jet.
Indeed, as Arnault said, Marchionne wasn't a "good person" in the traditional sense. He was a ruthless tycoon.
But to Kai, he was.
Kai wasn't naive. He knew his relationship with Ferrari was transactional.
Yet, Marchionne supported him within that framework, building a shelter against Arrivabene's bias.
Without Marchionne, Kai wouldn't have survived the internal politics. Without him, this trip wouldn't be happening.
Was Marchionne all-powerful? No. He balanced interests constantly. Every risk required courage.
Arnault's offer solved a problem for Marchionne—avoiding controversy over using Ferrari resources for personal matters and using the LVMH shield against criticism.
So Marchionne agreed.
Even in a stalemate, the old fox was calculating.
Arnault continued chatting. He was getting to know the person behind the helmet.
"Do you think I am a good person?" Arnault asked.
The answer should be yes. He was flying Kai across the world for free. Any normal person would suck up to him.
How would Kai flatter him?
Kai looked at Arnault and smirked. "Do you want to be thought of as a good person?"
Arnault paused. Not the answer he expected. "You're dodging the question."
Kai shrugged. "The point is, do you want to be seen as a leader—calm, wise, decisive? Or as Frédéric Arnault—young, smart, energetic, willing to explore?"
"Only when you find yourself does the question have value."
Arnault raised an eyebrow. Kai was deflecting again. He tried one more time. "So, do you think you are a good person?"
"Haha, no." Crisp and immediate.
Arnault was surprised. "Why?"
Kai met his gaze frankly. "If you get the chance, ask Sebastian Vettel. He'll give you a detailed explanation."
Surprise. 100% surprise. Arnault stared for a moment, then burst into laughter.
This trip was impulsive, but now, he was looking forward to it.
A good travel companion makes the journey.
Indeed, even Kai didn't expect the scene that awaited them.
Was it a surprise or a shock?
Heatwaves shimmered. The cicadas buzzed lazily. The crowd was endless.
The Gaokao. The annual national event. The city was bustling at dawn.
Through the tinted windows, Kai saw a sea of people. Reporters with long lenses blocked the school entrance. It was a dense phobia nightmare.
Kai's jaw dropped. "...They aren't here for me, right? Just normal news crews?"
Next to him, Song Bo (his assistant/friend) nudged him. "Boss, you have no idea how popular you are back home after Monaco, do you?"
"I heard some reporters camped out last night. The whole country is watching you take this exam."
Kai blinked. "It's just an exam. Millions of kids take it. Why watch me?"
Song Bo: "Because none of them are Kai."
Seeing Kai's disbelief, Song Bo waved a hand. "If you don't believe me, watch this. I'll get out first."
Zhang Qiaomu (Kai's mom's friend/assistant) patted Kai's shoulder. "Exactly. We'll watch from the back."
Kai looked uneasy. "Auntie Qiaomu, 'Doctor' (Song Bo) is taking the exam too today. How can I..."
Zhang Qiaomu waved it off. "It's fine. Don't worry. He's looking forward to this. Let him enjoy the spotlight."
Song Bo looked like a martyr, but his eyes betrayed his excitement. He was dying to do this.
Kai shook his head helplessly. "Doctor, dinner is on me later. Relax today."
Zhang Qiaomu slapped Song Bo's back. "He's too relaxed. He's the most relaxed person here, like he's not even taking the exam."
everyone laughed.
The black SUV stopped. Song Bo put on the Ferrari number 22 cap, sunglasses, and a mask. He flashed a peace sign at Kai and opened the door.
Lu Cheng (Dad) and Jiang Mo (Mom) patted Kai, then followed Song Bo out, acting as bodyguards to sell the decoy.
Before the door even closed, a scream erupted. "KAI!"
Instantly, the heatwave of humanity crashed down on Song Bo.
One second! Less than one second! The crowd swallowed him whole. He vanished.
Inside the car, Kai was dumbfounded.
Until just now, he thought a decoy was unnecessary.
But seeing the crowd open its maw like a giant beast...
So, what just happened?
Zhang Qiaomu wasn't surprised. she patted Kai's shoulder. "Xiao Zhou (Little Zhou), our turn. We have to hurry. With Doctor's body shape, he'll be exposed in seconds."