"Kai, you know that racing is a dangerous sport. That it's a real, life-threatening danger."
She had gone straight for the jugular. Unlike with his father, when Jiang Mo spoke to Kai as a mother, she couldn't help but worry about his safety first.
Kai was caught off guard. "Mom..."
Jiang Mo held up a hand to stop him. "I know. I know the FIA is constantly changing the rules to improve the sport's safety, to protect the drivers."
"But the danger is still there, isn't it?"
She paused, then continued.
"And even putting that aside, when you are driving a car at 300 kilometers per hour, you are not just challenging the limits of speed. You are challenging the limits of your own body."
"Just like any other sport, racing is an extreme test of physical and mental endurance. It requires daily, relentless training, and it means facing injuries, psychological stress, and countless other hardships."
"People say racing isn't a sport. But in reality, it's a sport where human beings of flesh and blood challenge machines and the very limits of speed. It's more difficult than other sports, which are just man against man. This is a level above."
"So, you must understand. This isn't a game. It's not as simple as sitting in a seat and turning a wheel."
Kai took a deep breath, waiting patiently until she had finished. He then nodded, his expression serious. "I understand."
"But that's the charm of it."
"It's just like how humans have always tried to fly, to explore space. We are always chasing the limits of speed, and the limits of what we are capable of."
Jiang Mo watched him, studying the expression in his eyes. She could see a firm, unshakeable light in them. But she wasn't finished.
"Competitive sport is about talent. But talent is just the entry ticket. The reality is far more complex and far more cruel."
"In the world of racing, this is especially true."
"Right now, there are about 2,500 professional Formula drivers in the world. But there are only twenty seats in F1."
"Ten teams. Twenty drivers. One seat, one driver. If you want to get into that paddock, you have to take someone else's spot."
"In football or basketball, there are far more players, but there are also far more seats, and even bench spots. A talented person can almost always find a place. That's not true in racing. There are only twenty seats in the entire world, and everyone is fighting for them."
"Currently, there are 58 drivers who hold an official FIA Super License, and every single year, a new wave of young talent tries to break in, all of them fighting for those same twenty spots. So, having talent is just the bare minimum. The world of F1 is not that simple."
Her logic was flawless, her argument compelling.
But the tension in Kai's shoulders actually eased. He realized his mother's "lawyer" side had taken over. She had done her homework.
It meant that while she had been acting aloof, she had been paying very close attention.
But now was not the time to point that out.
Kai pursed his lips. "Mom, I know. It's a money game. In the face of capital, we're all just ants."
"In the past, drivers from blue-collar or poor backgrounds might have had more of a chance, but it's getting rarer. In the entire paddock right now, only Lewis Hamilton and Esteban Ocon are true grassroots drivers. Everyone else is a multi-millionaire, a 'pay driver' who brings their own sponsorship."
"Our family has faced this before. Dad had to give up his dream for the same reason. I haven't forgotten."
"That's why I refused ART at first. Until they offered me this contract. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity..."
He took a deep breath, his voice firm.
"Mom, I want to try."
"Give me one year. Let me see how far I can go."
The words were plain, simple, and grounded. There was no grandstanding, no naive ambition. He'd just said he wanted to "try."
But it was precisely this clear-headed, rational attitude that made Jiang Mo realize this wasn't an impulsive whim. This was a decision he had agonized over, and he had come to a logical conclusion.
The lazy, wild kid had finally grown up. He had found something he truly wanted to do.
Her head and her heart were still at war. As a mother and as a lawyer, her instincts were screaming at her to say no. Because this wasn't the first time they'd been down this road. People say you can't have a future without hope. But what's far more cruel is to have that hope lit, only to have it extinguished.
But Jiang Mo looked at her son, and then at the final slide of his PPT—the goofy golden retriever with a flower behind its ear. She let out a long, quiet sigh.
"Okay. I understand."
As a mother, she would worry about him for the rest of her life, no matter what he chose. But she knew she couldn't protect him forever. He needed to go out and stumble, to get hurt, to grow. And her job was to be the safe harbor, always there, waiting to welcome him home.
Kai couldn't believe his ears. She'd... agreed? Just like that?
"Mom, does that mean..."
Jiang Mo shot him a look. "One year. You said it yourself. Just one year."
Kai threw his hands in the air and jumped up, a silent cheer.
A look of exasperated helplessness crossed his mother's face, but the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying her. "Shh! You'll wake your father."
Kai immediately clapped his hands over his mouth and sat back down, beaming at her.
Jiang Mo cleared her throat, a little flustered. "Ahem. Now, this ART contract. Let me see it."
Thump, thump, thump.
Lu Cheng, standing just inside his bedroom door, could hear his son's joyful, bounding footsteps. He didn't need to see it; he could feel the happiness.
He awkwardly wiped at the sudden, hot moisture in his eyes and walked to the balcony. He opened the window, and the cold night air hit his face. He fumbled for a pack of cigarettes, lit one in the pale moonlight, and exhaled a long, slow stream of smoke.
He stood there for a long time, lost in thought.
Now, finally, they could have a good New Year.
But their plans were about to change. A phone call from Maranello upended everything. In the end, Kai wouldn't be home for the holiday.
The very next day, he packed his bags and headed back to the airport for a flight to Milan.
Lu Cheng and Jiang Mo didn't stay home for long, either. They rushed their visa applications. Maranello, it turned out, had already contacted the Italian consulate in Shanghai to expedite the process. As soon as their passports were back, on the 28th of the lunar month, they were at the airport, too.
This year, the three of them would be spending the Lunar New Year together. In Maranello.
~~----------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters:
[email protected] / Dreamer20