Right at that moment, trackside staff sprang into action—some opened the gates, others waved flags—as the circuit was officially reopened.
Jiang Cheng, Qin Fen and the rest, who had been sitting in the grandstand, stood up and walked down.
Zhou Guanyu stopped interacting with the Bullet Curtain, smiled and greeted Qin Fen. "Brother Qin."
Qin Fen nodded, then introduced: "Guanyu, this is Jiang Cheng—just call him Brother Cheng."
Zhou Guanyu followed Qin Fen's pointing finger.
He saw Jiang Cheng, tall and handsome, apparently about the same age as himself.
Though puzzled, since Qin Fen had specifically told him to say "Brother Cheng," Zhou Guanyu politely said, "Brother Cheng, nice to meet you—please look after me. I'm Zhou Guanyu."
Jiang Cheng smiled back. "Old Qin just told me about you—impressive. Hope we can do a lap together later."
He knew Zhou Guanyu very well.
In his last life he'd spent fifty grand travelling from Chengdu to Shanghai just to watch his F1 debut.
After all, he was the first Chinese driver ever to reach F1 in seventy years.
Hearing that, Zhou Guanyu quickly waved both hands. "Not at all—still have to keep working hard."
Before his words had faded, Qin Fen introduced the man beside him. "This is Qi Yuan—call him Brother Qi."
Qin Fen didn't mention Qi Yuan's background, but he did drop a hint.
Reading between the lines, Zhou Guanyu bowed at once. "Brother Qi."
Qin Fen knew Zhou Guanyu's doubts and added, "Jiang's only a year older than you, but he's the real boss behind the SCC—no matter our ages, we all call him Brother Cheng."
With Qin Fen once again elevating Jiang Cheng's status, Zhou Guanyu instantly understood.
Anyone Qin Fen valued that much had to be someone extraordinary.
The moment Qin Fen finished, the Bullet Curtain exploded—
"WTF, didn't President Qin already replace the SCC club president?? Why is Brother Cheng the secret big boss??"
"Must be a figurehead; if he says it himself, it's probably true."
"OMG, how huge is Sea-God's empire?? Totally unimaginable…"
"Did you notice? Everyone treats Sea-God with crazy respect??"
"Now that you mention it—yeah, he feels mysterious and boss-like even without showing his face." … In an instant speculation and chatter surged, the scene boiling over.
Jiang Cheng took Wang Congcong's place and walked up to Qiao Yinyin.
Because she'd been sharing the frame with Wang Congcong for the livestream, the camera was set to front-facing.
Jiang Cheng's one-second cameo made the screen erupt.
"WTF, a Handsome Guy??"
"Who's that?? Which celebrity?? Never seen him."
"He looks familiar—Sea-God himself??"
"Yeah, only a second, but I definitely saw him."
Qiao Yinyin reacted fast, switching the camera the instant Jiang Cheng appeared.
Jiang Cheng glanced and saw the livestream tips were almost breaking a million.
With the barrage buzzing, Wang Congcong stirred the pot: "I heard your dad spent a hundred million building you a racetrack in Weifang just so you could learn racing??"
Zhou Guanyu waved. "Not a hundred million—just tens of millions. It's called Guanyu Motorsport Park."
Jiang Cheng grew interested. "So how's the driving experience there?"
Zhou Guanyu thought a moment. "Pretty good overall, but still a notch below here—after all, the track we're on is Shanghai's top, most professional circuit!"
They chatted casually, as relaxed as if discussing today's weather.
Yet that very nonchalance hit the viewers even harder.
"The world of the rich is beyond imagination!"
"Damn! Money really is omnipotent—my Chinese teacher lied to me as a kid!"
"Stop bragging—spend a hundred million to build something??"
"Dude, still living under a keyboard? Google it—Shandong really has Guanyu Motorsport Park; their family's empire is huge."
"Racing needs talent and money…"
Seeing the barrage swing, Jiang Cheng switched to his troll tone.
"China has plenty of Second-generation rich kids, but honestly, racing isn't just about being rich—you have to endure hardship and risk. On those two points, I think many parents, rich or average, say no—especially rich families; their kids are even more precious."
The moment he finished, the Bullet Curtain wind shifted.
"1.4 billion people and we can't field a decent football team; in seventy years we finally get an international racer—stop being sour."
"If I had a dad like his with endless cash, I'd just daily-drive a Ferrari to clubs and treenewbee with other rich kids—one crash and both life and money are gone."
"Sea-God's right—my mom won't even let me drive a kart, let alone take this kind of risk."
"This is probably what Han Han dreams of becoming…"
"Exactly—he chose to head to Europe as a kid, toughing out hardship, doubt, even discrimination, spending twenty years going from Shanghai's grandstand to the Shanghai grid—any story more inspiring?"
Seeing Jiang Cheng's words flip the narrative, Zhou Guanyu shot him a grateful look…