When Alex Sun arrived at the restaurant, he immediately spotted Guanyu Zhou sitting at a table by the window, playing on his phone.
A mischievous glint flashed in Alex Sun's eyes. He quietly slowed his steps, sneaking up behind Guanyu Zhou before suddenly slapping him on the shoulder.
"What are you up to, Old Zhou?" he said casually, teasing.
Guanyu Zhou stiffened in shock, nearly dropping his phone. When he turned and saw it was Alex Sun, he immediately relaxed and shot him an annoyed look, waving his hand.
"You scared the hell out of me! What else would I be doing? Waiting for you. Sit, sit."
After sitting down, they exchanged a few casual greetings. As the conversation continued, Alex Sun picked up the menu from the table and waved it with a grin.
"Enough talk. I'm starving. I won today, so I've got to celebrate with a proper meal. Let's order—eat a bit more with me."
Guanyu Zhou nodded, took the menu, glanced through it, casually checked a few dishes, and gave the waiter a couple of instructions before putting the menu down.
The smile on his face gradually faded, replaced by a faint look of worry.
Alex Sun noticed immediately and asked, "What's wrong? Why do you look so troubled? Did something happen?"
Guanyu Zhou sighed, his tone full of frustration.
"What else could it be? Just bad luck. You think this streak of bad luck won't stick with me in the main race too?"
He paused, thinking back to today's race, his brow tightening.
"Right from the start something felt wrong. On the main straight I hit the brakes hard and the wheels locked immediately. Do you know what that means? That's the first time that's ever happened to me in Baku. It was ridiculous."
Alex Sun looked at his worried expression and smiled lightly.
"It's fine, don't overthink it. The track temperature will be higher during the main race. That kind of lock-up won't happen again."
Then he deliberately added a joke to lighten the mood.
"And if you're really worried something will happen again, just pass the bad luck to Leclerc. Let the debt return to its rightful owner. What's there to be afraid of?"
Guanyu Zhou's eyes instantly lit up. He slapped his thigh, half annoyed at himself and half relieved.
"Right! Why didn't I think of that? In both races we had incidents at Turn 1, and somehow they both started after Leclerc jinxed us. Maybe there really is something to that!"
Then he sighed again, worry creeping back into his voice.
"You're fine in the main race. Your starting position is good, no one in front blocking you. You don't have to worry much. I'm different. If something happens again tomorrow, I'm finished."
Seeing how uneasy he looked, Alex Sun waved his hand dismissively.
"Relax. Don't think about it too much. What's done is done—worrying won't change anything. Just pay attention to the details tomorrow and keep it steady."
While they were talking, the waiter began bringing the dishes out one after another. Two alcoholic drinks were placed on the table as well.
Alex Sun's gaze immediately landed on the drinks, and a teasing smile appeared.
"What's this, Old Zhou? You're drinking alcohol now? Falling behind your father in the points bothering you that much?"
Guanyu Zhou picked up his drink and took a small sip. His tone carried a mix of melancholy, self-mockery, and reflection.
"Nothing really. I was just thinking… back in Bahrain you were still behind me. It's only been a few races and now you've already overtaken me."
He rolled his eyes at Alex Sun and sighed again.
"And you keep calling me Old Zhou all the time. The more you say it, the older I feel. Honestly, with how you're performing, you might make it to F1 this year. I just hope I won't have to spend another season stuck in F2."
After a short pause, he deliberately put on a weathered expression and shook his head.
"Sigh… when the son becomes too strong, the father grows old. From now on, the track will belong to you."
Alex Sun raised an eyebrow and replied with an easy confidence.
"It's fine. As your friend, once I win the F1 Drivers' Championship, I'll have my team bring you into F1. You can follow me."
Guanyu Zhou snorted.
"You? Bring me into F1? Don't be ridiculous. Maybe I'll win a championship before you even leave F2. Stop talking and eat—the food's getting cold."
As soon as he finished speaking, Alex Sun picked up his utensils and began eating enthusiastically.
The table was filled with meat dishes—steak, grilled meat, sausages, everything imaginable. It was a full-on high-calorie feast, and he showed absolutely no restraint.
Guanyu Zhou stared at him in disbelief and almost choked.
"You're racing tomorrow, aren't you? Are you planning to ruin your life? Eating like this? It's all meat. Aren't you worried about your condition?"
Alex Sun's mouth was stuffed with food. He waved his hand vaguely, swallowed, and grinned.
"You know me. I never gain weight no matter what I eat. And it doesn't affect my performance anyway. Don't worry."
Then he leaned closer with a conspiratorial look.
"Oh, by the way—don't rush off after the race tomorrow."
"Why?" Guanyu Zhou asked.
"I found an induction cooker. We're making hotpot tomorrow. Come join us and treat yourself."
Guanyu Zhou's eyes widened.
"Damn, you even found an induction cooker in a foreign country? And you're making hotpot? That's impressive. Alright, make sure you call me. I'm definitely coming. Don't leave me out."
Alex Sun laughed loudly. He casually picked up his phone and took a photo of the massive meat feast in front of him. Then he sent it to Leclerc, who was busy preparing for qualifying, with the caption:
"Baku food check-in. Too bad someone has to race—can only look, can't eat."
Less than two seconds later, Leclerc replied instantly.
"You're absolutely shameless!"
Right after that, Leclerc sent a screenshot of his chat with Guanyu Zhou and added:
"Look what you've done! If something goes wrong in this race, I'm definitely making you pay after it's over!"
Alex Sun couldn't help laughing when he saw it. He turned and waved the phone at Guanyu Zhou.
"You sent that fast. Leclerc is already here complaining."
Guanyu Zhou raised his chin proudly.
"Of course. You taught me that, idol. I just returned the bad luck to its rightful owner. Why would I keep carrying it myself?"
Alex Sun shook his head with a laugh and quickly typed a reply to Leclerc.
"Don't complain yet. Guanyu Zhou and I are making hotpot later. Whether you win or not, come over and try it. Taste my cooking."
Not long after, Leclerc replied.
"Sounds good. I've never tried hotpot before. I'll come join the fun—don't disappoint me."
The two put their phones away and continued eating and chatting. There was no formality between them. They talked about small mistakes in the race, tiny details on the track, the hardships of daily training, and amusing stories from their time in Baku.
The conversation flowed naturally, and the atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable.
They thoroughly enjoyed the meal. When they finished, they said goodbye at the restaurant entrance. Guanyu Zhou reminded him of a few things to watch out for in tomorrow's main race, and then they each headed their separate ways.
Alex Sun walked alone toward the hotel he had booked.
The evening breeze swept away much of the lingering heat from the track. His steps were calm and steady.
Occasionally, highlights from today's race flashed through his mind. But beneath that, there was something else occupying his thoughts.
He had specifically asked Rebecca Lin to organize the team's affairs.
Tonight, he planned to carefully listen to the latest progress and begin planning the next stage of his strategy.
...
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