Chapter 148: A Protection Mode
That night, Wu Shi slept soundly.
Whether it was exhaustion from running more than twenty laps in a Formula One car, or simply the release of a long-carried burden, even he couldn't say.
This was how he had always been.
Before a competition, tension would build relentlessly. But once he stepped onto the track, that nervousness would be swallowed whole by the instinct to push his limits. In that state, hesitation disappeared, replaced by a kind of ruthless clarity.
And when everything ended, he would accept the result without struggle.
Because he knew he had done everything he could.
There was no point clinging to the past — whether it was glorious or humiliating, it was already over.
---
On the morning of the 20th, Wu Shi woke early.
Both Free Practice Three and qualifying were scheduled for the evening, leaving him the morning free — a rare chance to wander the city known as the Garden City.
Just as he finished washing up, Toto Wolff called.
"Put on your team kit and come to the operations room."
Wu Shi didn't complain. During race week, rest was never guaranteed.
When he arrived at the back of the operations room, Rosberg was already there.
"It's not just you who's unlucky," Rosberg said with a wry smile. "I seem to be having a rough time too."
"The gearbox still not fully sorted?" Wu Shi asked.
"They worked on it all night," Rosberg replied. "The mechanics say it's drivable — for now."
He smiled helplessly.
Rosberg was leading Hamilton by 22 points in the championship. On paper, it looked comfortable. In reality, it wasn't.
Under the 2014 regulations, the final race awarded double points. First place earned 50 points, second place 36 — a fourteen-point swing in a single race.
One mistake could erase everything.
Wu Shi noticed the word temporarily. That alone was unsettling.
"It seems there's still room to improve this year's cars," Wu Shi said quietly.
Rosberg laughed.
"No need to be polite. Everyone knows the car's reliability is an issue. As long as it's fixed eventually, that's enough."
He spoke lightly, but Wu Shi could feel the tension beneath the surface.
Of course.
Who could remain calm when a world championship was within reach?
Only drivers capable of winning titles felt that pressure — and Rosberg was very much one of them.
---
"By the way," Wu Shi asked, "I wasn't called here just to watch repairs, was I?"
After he arrived, Toto had asked him to wait — then disappeared.
Rosberg gestured toward the far end of the room.
"The simulator. They want you helping with correlation work — contributing to the team going forward."
Wu Shi's eyes lit up.
"That's great."
Though he still lacked deep knowledge of this generation of Formula One cars, this was exactly the kind of learning opportunity he wanted.
"I'll go see if I can help my guys," Rosberg said, patting Wu Shi on the shoulder. "They've got a headache on their hands."
He left.
Wu Shi waited a little longer.
Then Toto Wolff entered — with Niki Lauda beside him.
"Wu Shi," Toto called.
His tone was serious. Almost severe.
Wu Shi straightened unconsciously.
"After reviewing the data and completing our internal investigation," Toto said, "we've determined that the power loss occurred because the engine entered protection mode."
Wu Shi nodded.
Modern F1 power units were staggeringly complex — systems layered within systems. When something went wrong, even the engineers who designed them often couldn't pinpoint the exact trigger immediately.
Toto's conclusion carried a clear implication:
this was not driver error.
Wu Shi didn't argue or react emotionally.
As a driver, he understood his role. If there was anything to contest, that responsibility lay with Sid and the management team, not him.
Once inside the paddock, building the right persona mattered.
Hamilton had mastered that long ago.
Toto noticed Wu Shi's composure — and was quietly impressed.
To many drivers, this explanation would have sounded like meaningless corporate language. Wu Shi, however, listened without interruption.
Then Toto changed tone.
"This protection mode," he said slowly, "can also be activated manually."
Wu Shi's pupils contracted.
That was… a dangerous statement.
He said nothing.
"I'm very sorry," Toto continued sincerely. "But the result stands. There will be no second opportunity."
The moment the investigation concluded, Toto had argued fiercely before the board to grant Wu Shi another run.
But why had Daimler allowed this agreement in the first place?
Because no one believed Wu Shi could realistically fight for pole.
Now that he had, the risk calculation changed.
Giving him another chance suddenly became unacceptable.
Why, then, were they still unwilling to let him go?
This contradiction was nothing new in Formula One.
Nearly a decade later, Oscar Piastri would win both F3 and F2 — only for Alpine to hesitate, stall, and ultimately lose him.
Teams wanted everything.
They just didn't want to pay the price.
Mercedes was no different.
With Hamilton, a world champion they depended on — and Rosberg, a German driver in a German team — Daimler saw no reason to gamble on a teenager, no matter how brilliant his performance had been.
One or two sessions were not enough.
Wu Shi understood.
"We bear responsibility for this," Toto said quietly. "And regardless of the outcome, we will give you an answer that is… acceptable."
Niki Lauda nodded in agreement. He, too, found the situation deeply regrettable.
But even Toto — a shareholder — could not overturn the board. And Lauda, as a non-executive director, had even less leverage.
After a pause, Toto changed topics.
"As Mercedes' reserve driver, let's start with the simulator."
"Of course," Wu Shi replied.
He knew exactly why Toto and Lauda had spoken to him privately.
They wanted him to carry their words back to Sid.
Wu Shi wasn't yet an adult. Major decisions still rested with his management. All he could do was pass on the message.
That delay — that buffer — mattered.
At the very least, neither Toto nor Lauda wanted to become Wu Shi's enemy.
Wu Shi climbed into the simulator.
It was more advanced than even the one Hamilton had at home.
The screen flickered to life.
And for the first time since stepping into Formula One, Wu Shi felt something unexpected:
Not disappointment.
But patience.