Chapter 160: Harmonious Teamwork and Understanding
With Q3 underway, only ten cars remained on track.
The circuit suddenly felt wide.
For the final session, the race director supplied each of the top ten drivers with a fresh set of soft tyres, restricted exclusively to Q3 and required to be returned afterward. This allowed everyone to push flat-out, free from concerns about race strategy—ensuring qualifying remained a pure contest of speed.
Jonathan crouched beside the cockpit of car No. 59.
"Based on our projections, if you repeat your previous lap, you're looking at P3. That position is extremely important."
"I understand," Wu Shi replied calmly. "I'll do everything I can."
No driver was perfectly stable. No one was immune to mistakes. All he could do was put himself in the right state of mind.
"The cloud cover is increasing. No rain predicted, but track temperature has dropped. Grip isn't as good as earlier. Watch your tyre temperatures," Jonathan continued. "Wind speed is also picking up—be careful through Turn 9."
He patted Wu Shi's helmet lightly and stepped back.
At the pit exit, the light turned green.
"GO."
Williams released both cars immediately.
It was a bold decision—clear air, but less-than-ideal track evolution.
At this point, though, it no longer mattered.
Massa led. Wu Shi followed.
Both cars began their warm-up laps.
Wu Shi deliberately didn't stick close after pit exit. Instead, he allowed Massa to open a full sector's gap before accelerating, ensuring clean air and proper tyre preparation.
In Q3, no team dared wait in the garage. With dark clouds gathering overhead, hesitation could mean disaster—even if rain wasn't forecast.
---
"We're seeing the Williams cars first out," the commentator said.
"Massa leads—a seasoned veteran—but in Q1 and Q2, his rookie teammate clearly had the upper hand. Let's see what he can deliver here."
"Sainz has also begun his flying lap. Given his background in the Red Bull system, he'll be keen to prove himself."
"Still, reaching Q3 in a Toro Rosso already shows he's earned his place. For a rookie, this is impressive."
Qualifying commentary was rarely dramatic.
Without onboard views, even the best analysts could only rely on sector times and brief camera cuts. Fans in the grandstands and viewers at home alike waited for numbers to flash on screen.
Wu Shi adapted quickly.
His stability was striking—born from both precise car control and hard-earned F1 experience.
Thirty seconds after Massa completed his flying lap—
1:27.998.
Wu Shi crossed the line.
1:27.456.
Exactly where Williams had predicted.
More than enough.
But these tyres had to be returned anyway.
He might as well push again.
---
At the same time, Hamilton's first flying lap appeared.
1:26.419.
Across the pit lane, team principals and engineers shook their heads.
How could anyone fight that?
"Push one more lap," Jonathan instructed.
"Understood."
On the straight, Wu Shi briefly loosened his grip and stretched his fingers—a small habit of his. Under extreme loads, he sometimes felt as if he hadn't held the steering wheel properly.
He knew it was psychological.
But harmless.
As he passed Sector 2 on his cool-down lap, flashing red lights appeared ahead.
Massa hadn't pulled away.
Wu Shi saw car No. 19 weaving gently.
He understood instantly.
Draft.
He accelerated.
The moment Wu Shi closed up, Massa accelerated too.
By Turn 16, the two Williams cars were nose to tail.
Onto the main straight.
Car No. 19 opened DRS and surged forward.
Wu Shi followed tightly.
With Massa punching a hole through the air, Wu Shi's car was dragged along, its speed climbing relentlessly.
330 km/h.
Whoosh!
He reached the braking zone for Turn 1 faster than ever before.
The broadcast cut to the Williams pit wall.
No team orders.
Just instinct.
Understanding.
Wu Shi—who had already accepted Mercedes' dominance—felt a spark ignite.
---
He attacked.
Sector 1:
27.919.
A personal best.
The slipstream helped—but not enough to explain it all.
Wu Shi had found time on his own.
The world went silent.
No engine.
No wind.
Only flashes of asphalt and apexes.
The tyres felt ready to lift off the surface at any moment. Oil pressure climbed. The power unit screamed, wringing out everything it had left.
Sector 2:
28.078.
In the Williams garage, mechanics froze—hands over mouths, eyes unblinking.
Could it be?
Through Turn 14, he was still faster.
Hope surged.
Before the V-shaped left of Turn 15, Wu Shi pushed to the absolute edge, placing the car millimeters from the right-side asphalt.
Grass flew.
Then—
A puff of white smoke from the left-front tyre.
Understeer.
Instant correction.
Too late.
A collective groan rippled through the grandstand.
It was gone.
Missing the apex ruined the rhythm. The car stayed in the middle of the track for an extra tenth before finding grip and drifting left.
Turn 16 passed cleanly—but not perfectly.
Final sector:
30.013.
Lap time:
1:27.010.
Jonathan exhaled.
"What a shame…"
Without that mistake, he would've broken into the 1:26s.
At this moment, Rosberg's first flying lap stood at 1:27.036.
Had Mercedes faltered again, Williams might have sniffed the front row.
Wu Shi's voice came over the radio.
"Massa… sorry. Everyone—sorry. A bit of understeer at the end. Lost some time."
But no one blamed him.
Because everyone in that garage understood—
They had just witnessed something special.