Chapter 154: Eight Points Higher Than a Perfect Score
The ambulance left the paddock at full speed, yet it still took nearly twenty minutes to reach the hospital.
If a medical helicopter had been available, the journey would have taken no more than five.
Leclerc had no reason to remain at the circuit. After confirming Bianchi's situation through team staff, he rushed to the hospital immediately.
On the bus, no one spoke.
Leclerc stared blankly out the window. Raindrops clung to the glass, smearing the neon lights outside into scattered points of color, like distant stars.
When they arrived, the emergency room doors were still shut.
The harsh white indicator lights above the entrance made it difficult to keep his eyes open. Each blink forced tears out uncontrollably.
Wu Shi placed a hand on Leclerc's shoulder, about to say something—but Leclerc spoke first.
"Sorry."
His voice trembled.
"God clearly warned us… and we ignored it."
Wu Shi had no answer.
Should he have tried harder? Should he have forced Bianchi to stop?
But how? And with what authority?
How could Bianchi possibly listen to him?
Verstappen stood a little apart, silent. Perhaps he was thinking of how his mother lit a candle for him before every race.
---
It was nearly midnight when the emergency room doors finally opened.
Reporters and event officials surged forward.
Since Ayrton Senna's death at Imola in 1994, Formula 1 had gone nearly two decades without a fatal accident. In an era increasingly defined by safety, people had slowly forgotten a fundamental truth:
Formula 1 is a sport where you dance with death.
That was why the organizers had refused the drivers' request to reschedule the race.
That was why the race had not been stopped when the typhoon intensified.
And now, after Bianchi's accident, public opinion was inevitable.
Leclerc forced his way toward the front, desperate to hear the news firsthand.
The doctor spoke in Japanese, his English limited. Around them, voices overlapped in confusion.
Wu Shi caught fragments—words like stable, safety, control—and felt a faint, fragile hope rise.
Moments later, a reporter translated the announcement live.
"According to the hospital's latest update, Bianchi has suffered a diffuse axonal injury to the brain. After emergency treatment, his vital signs are currently stable. If he regains consciousness within seventy-two hours, it will indicate that treatment is progressing positively."
"The organizing committee has contacted hospitals in France and is considering transferring him for further treatment."
The Suzuka incident immediately placed the race under intense scrutiny.
Why was the race not postponed when drivers expressed concerns?
Why was it started at 3 p.m., precisely when the typhoon was passing through?
Why was a recovery crane allowed onto the track under double yellow flag conditions?
As someone soon to enter the paddock, Wu Shi submitted his own suggestions to the FIA through Williams.
First: the introduction of a Virtual Safety Car, ensuring that all cars reduce speed across the entire circuit during incidents—not just near the accident zone.
Second: the addition of a cockpit protection device—the Halo.
The first proposal met broad support.
The second faced fierce resistance, including opposition from several drivers.
---
Time crawled.
On the third day after the accident, the hospital announced that Bianchi had briefly regained consciousness.
His brain injury, for the moment, was under control.
However, due to ongoing emergency treatment, visits were prohibited.
Later, the FIA and teams conducted a detailed investigation, comparing Bianchi's onboard telemetry with multi-angle footage.
The conclusion was clear.
The car lost grip on corner exit and slid uncontrollably.
Data showed that Bianchi's throttle input at Turn 7 was shallower than on previous laps.
Simulations revealed something chilling.
That reduced throttle altered the car's slip angle just enough to prevent Bianchi's head from colliding directly with the rear structure of the crane.
Had he applied the throttle as aggressively as before, the car's trajectory would have sent his head straight into the crane's rear—an unsurvivable impact.
These findings were never made public.
They were quietly archived.
---
Wu Shi's life became simpler—and heavier.
He spent less time with Van Amersfoort and more time traveling to Williams' base in Oxfordshire.
He began simulator testing earlier than planned, helping the team gather data.
In mid-October, while Formula 1 raced in Sochi, the F3 series competed at Imola.
Wu Shi maintained his dominance, securing three consecutive victories on what could almost be called a half-home circuit.
Ocon performed well too, finishing third in all three races.
Afterward, Ocon publicly criticized the F1 selection system.
He claimed Wu Shi earned his promotion through ability, while Verstappen's advancement—despite having fewer points—was due solely to his father.
The remarks disgusted Verstappen.
Even without them, the two had never gotten along.
---
The final race of the 2014 F3 season took place at Hockenheim.
Wu Shi ended his F3 career with 29 victories and 758 points, leading Ocon by an astonishing 397 points.
When asked to evaluate his season, Wu Shi laughed.
"That's pretty good," he said.
"I scored eight points higher than a perfect college entrance exam."
---
In November, Wu Shi officially left Van Amersfoort and reported to Williams ahead of schedule.
Contractually, he would not join the team until 2015—but his weaknesses had already been identified.
They needed time.
Williams' founder rarely appeared due to his health. Most responsibilities were handled by Deputy Team Principal Claire Williams.
She greeted Wu Shi with a warm smile, far less severe than her father's reputation suggested.
Beside her stood a tall man with a balanced build and sharp features.
"This is your nutritionist and physical trainer," Claire said.
"Ken Ruiz."
Wu Shi greeted him politely.
Ken returned the greeting, smiling.
"It's a pleasure to work with such a talented driver."
The hardship began immediately.
"From today onward," Ken said calmly, "your diet and training will follow my plan. You're sixteen. Your body is still developing—and frankly, it's far weaker than that of a full-time F1 driver."
"No matter how fast you are over one lap, without physical endurance, you won't last a race distance."
His tone was gentle.
His expression was not.
Wu Shi understood.
An F1 race lasted nearly ninety minutes—twice as long as F3. Fatigue didn't just slow drivers down.
It distorted judgment.
And distorted judgment caused accidents.
---
By the end of November, Bianchi's condition had improved.
He was conscious more often, though still unable to control his body.
His lucid moments were unpredictable, and he couldn't speak.
Wu Shi visited once—then returned to England.
The doctor's assessment was cautiously optimistic.
If recovery continued, Bianchi might regain longer periods of consciousness within a month or two.
Encouraging news.
Though the Bianchi family was not poor, the medical costs were overwhelming.
The FIA launched a fundraising campaign.
Drivers throughout the paddock donated generously—enough to ensure that Bianchi would continue receiving the best care available.
And somewhere, quietly filed away, was a piece of data that no one would ever forget:
A throttle not fully pressed—
and a life not entirely taken.