Chapter 118: I Was Too Stupid
A sunny race day always eased people's nerves.
After parking his car on the starting grid, Wu Shi found himself casually admiring the race queens.
But the other drivers were nowhere near as relaxed. The chaos from the rain-soaked second race still lingered in everyone's mind.
Worried about track conditions, they all bypassed the grid and dove into the inner lane, choosing to take another reconnaissance lap.
In the end, Wu Shi was the only car sitting on the grid.
A minute and a half later, Alan came over the radio:
Alan TR: "Ocon will start from the pit lane."
Wu Shi TR: "Car not set up properly?"
Alan TR: "We're unsure for now."
The violent six-car crash earlier had left Ocon's car the worst damaged, so it wasn't surprising that something serious had been found during the inspection.
With Ocon gone, Verstappen—starting P3—was effectively moved up to the front row.
Thinking of this, Wu Shi looked back.
"That guy's been driving more and more recklessly lately," he thought.
He licked his dry lips.
Better not give Verstappen any openings.
A flying torpedo could divebomb faster than a perfect racing line.
Verstappen, meanwhile, was staring straight at Wu Shi. With Ocon out of the way, he needed only one overtake to fight for the championship.
That realization made his blood boil. His eyes swept over every corner of the circuit, naturally searching for attack points.
Verstappen TR: "You said Wu Shi's style on this track is fairly conservative?"
Engineer TR: "Yes—but don't be reckless."
Verstappen TR: "Okay. Got it."
When the sharp bell rang, grid personnel cleared out. Wu Shi glanced at Verstappen one more time, then locked onto the starting lights.
Five reds lit up one by one.
Three-second pause.
Lights out.
A long hold again—but Wu Shi had already anticipated it.
Buzz!
The engine howled. His car launched cleanly.
With Ocon missing, his flanks were exposed, but he didn't need to defend them. His entire focus was Verstappen.
In the mirrors, Verstappen's launch matched his, but the clutch-gear matching wasn't as smooth—no attack on the opening sprint.
But as they approached Turn 2—heavy braking—Verstappen immediately dove inside.
Another extreme late-brake lunge.
Wu Shi didn't bother responding.
He braked deep, almost reaching the apex itself before he rotated the car sharply.
Car No. 32 was tuned for razor-sharp turn-in.
The moment the speed bled off, the front end snapped in.
Although Verstappen's nose edged ahead, he needed to arc toward the corner apex—forcing him outward.
Wu Shi slipped into the bend, hugging the right-side line.
Commentary:
"Wu defuses Verstappen's attack with a beautiful crossover defensive line. Verstappen's late braking didn't gain him the position and actually compromised his exit speed."
"This is classic Verstappen—always relying on hyper-late braking to open the door."
"And it's clear Wu knows him well. He invited the inside attack, only to counter it with space management."
"These two grew up racing each other. They read each other like open books!"
But before the commentators finished praising them, two cars behind them slid straight off at Turn 2.
"Alexander and Richard have gone off! Both cars completely lost control!"
This street circuit really was an F3 killer. These three races had produced fewer incidents than the first six laps alone earlier.
Down the straight after Turn 2, Verstappen tucked into Wu Shi's slipstream.
The gap had opened slightly. To close it, he had to push deeper, risking more.
He ignored the danger—instinctively chasing the limit.
Rustle—!
The two cars blasted past, scattering dead leaves as they dove into the next sequence of turns.
From Turn 3 to Turn 15, overtaking was nearly impossible. Verstappen never found another opening.
Wu Shi was surprised Verstappen could keep up, but he wasn't worried. After the rain, temperatures were low; tyres were cold and below ideal grip. Two more laps, and he'd show Verstappen what real pace on the Pau circuit looked like.
Whoosh—click click—!
The continuous elevation changes made the cars bounce violently—half the battle of Pau was simply controlling the machine.
From Turn 15, the track tilted slightly downhill.
Wu Shi checked the mirrors.
Predictably, Verstappen was setting up for the longest straight, using the slipstream to close in.
As they approached the deceptive Turn 16 kink, Verstappen pulled right to tighten the gap.
Wu Shi's eyes flicked ahead. Without hesitation, he shifted slightly right and eased off the throttle.
This sucked Verstappen closer—too close.
The circuit's width, originally about three lanes, shrank to two right before Turn 16.
So although Verstappen looked like he had an overtake on the right—
—he actually needed to brake immediately.
Otherwise—
Bang!
Verstappen's right front wing scraped the narrowing guardrail—
—and Car No. 30 snapped sideways and slammed to a halt.
He froze in shock.
Only now did he realize the space Wu Shi left wasn't actually wide enough for a car to slip through.
The guardrail's narrowing created a visual illusion. He'd misjudged.
No—
He shook his head.
Wu Shi had left enough room. He simply carried too much speed to execute the move he imagined.
Verstappen TR: "I crashed. I was too stupid."
Engineer TR: "Are you okay?"
Verstappen TR: "…Okay."
When yellow flags came out, Wu Shi slowed.
Wu Shi TR: "He alright?"
Alan TR: "He's fine."
Wu Shi TR: "Good. He should've backed out and tucked behind me. There was no overtaking chance at that section."
Alan TR: "Agreed."
With the only real threat gone, Wu Shi's win was inevitable.
Thirty-six minutes later, he crossed the finish line—perfectly redeeming the earlier races.
The familiar finishing order followed:
Second: Rosenqvist
Third: Ocon
Fourth: Blomqvist
After weighing the car, Wu Shi had barely stepped out when reporters swarmed him.
"Wu, Verstappen was the only one who pressured you early on. Later, when he tried to overtake, he crashed. What do you think caused the incident?"
Wu Shi glanced at the reporter—a woman with extremely heavy eyeliner—and said:
"He was too greedy. I left a car's width, but it was tough to control there. He needed to slow down. He just thought he could handle it."
The reporter continued,
"You've secured another P1, your eighth win this season, getting closer to your target of twenty-one. Recently we've also heard your name linked with Mercedes F1. Can you comment?"
Wu Shi switched languages instantly:
(In Chinese) "Can you speak Chinese? I don't understand."
"???"
The reporter stared at him, bewildered.
The silence hung for several seconds before she finally muttered, "O-okay… thank you."
Wu Shi waved at the camera.
He had no sense of boundaries either—especially with interviewers who didn't respect any.