Chapter 130: Norisring
June was an exceptionally busy month for the FIA Formula 3 Championship.
After concluding the Belgian round at Spa on June 22, the entire paddock moved directly to Germany, heading for the Norisring street circuit in Nuremberg for Rounds 16 through 18.
The Norisring is a temporary street circuit with an FIA Grade 2 license. At just 2.3 kilometers in length, it is one of the shortest tracks on the calendar.
At first glance, the layout appears deceptively simple.
In reality, it is anything but.
Concrete walls line the circuit relentlessly, leaving no margin for error. The track sends a clear message to every driver: if you are not absolutely confident, lift — because hesitation leads straight into the barriers.
The design philosophy of the Norisring revolves around long, high-speed straights interrupted by heavy braking zones and tight corners. Driving here feels less like traditional circuit racing and more like threading a needle at full throttle.
Turn 2 — the Grundig-Kehre left-hander — is notorious for first-lap incidents as drivers fight aggressively for track position.
Further on lies the Dutzendteichkehre hairpin, preceded and followed by short straights, placing enormous emphasis on braking stability and traction on corner exit.
Friday, June 27, greeted the teams with clear skies and ideal track conditions.
Both free practice sessions ran smoothly, with every driver completing at least thirty laps.
Qualifying began at 17:40.
Because of the circuit's short length and the absence of segmented qualifying groups, traffic management was critical. Clean laps at full speed were rare.
Wu Shi had no choice but to circle patiently, searching for an opening.
On his tenth lap, however, a familiar issue emerged.
TR: "Alan, the engine's acting up again — same symptoms as last time."
Alan (TR): "Understood. Box this lap."
Wu Shi returned to the pit lane, where mechanics immediately swarmed the car. But engine-related issues were never something that could be resolved quickly.
"Do you think you can go back out?" Alan asked.
"If we push it, there's a high risk of block failure," one of the engineers replied.
Wu Shi knew that under ideal conditions — an empty track, cool air — he might still salvage a qualifying lap.
But with rising temperatures, dense traffic, and heavy exhaust heat hanging in the air, there was a real chance the engine would fail before he found clear space.
"I don't think it's just the engine," Wu Shi said, scratching his head. "This is the second time the same issue has appeared. You need to dig deeper."
Alan nodded.
"Alright. We'll work through the night."
With no chance of further flying laps, Wu Shi stayed in the garage studying timing screens and telemetry.
His best lap — 48.435 seconds — left him seventh at the end of qualifying.
Pole position went to Felix Rosenqvist with a 48.082, only three-tenths faster.
On a circuit like the Norisring, even the top drivers struggled to create gaps.
Simple tracks magnified equality.
"I heard you had engine trouble," Verstappen said as he climbed out of his car.
"Yeah, but once it's fixed, it shouldn't affect tomorrow," Wu Shi replied calmly.
"That's good. Would've been a shame for Qualifying Two."
Verstappen had endured his fair share of mechanical issues that season — gearboxes, brakes, clutch engagement.
Wu Shi, by contrast, had been remarkably trouble-free until now.
"I felt something strange with my brakes too," Verstappen added. "You might want your guys to check everything."
"I'll let them know."
Night fell.
But unlike previous late repair sessions, this one dragged on past 2 a.m.
"Get some rest," Alan urged.
"No," Wu Shi said firmly. "Let me start it again."
Only he could feel the subtle irregularities. A static systems check wasn't enough.
The moment the engine fired, Wu Shi knew something was still wrong.
Remembering the last incident, the mechanics trusted his judgment and disassembled the car once more.
Wu Shi understood mechanical systems well — but not well enough to pinpoint root causes.
Like knowing your head hurts, without knowing why.
This car was the same.
Even the engineers, armed with data and experience, struggled to identify the source.
If it were a human, painkillers might help.
For a race car, there was no equivalent shortcut.
Half an hour later, Alan stood up.
"We've found issues in the transmission as well," he said. "It might be a systemic problem causing the engine faults."
Wu Shi understood immediately.
"So it's not simple."
Alan nodded.
"My recommendation is a full engine and gearbox replacement."
"Alright," Wu Shi said without hesitation.
A ten-place grid penalty was better than a retirement.
As he headed back to the resting area, Wu Shi recalled how other drivers had complained about clutch and gearbox engagement earlier in the season.
He had compensated with aggressive control and unconventional techniques.
Perhaps that long-term strain had finally caught up.
Saturday morning arrived quickly.
The engine and gearbox change was approved by race control.
For all three Norisring races, Wu Shi would carry a ten-place grid penalty.
That meant starting seventeenth for Race 16, ahead of Goddard.
Behind him sat Tatiana Calderón, the only female driver in the field.
"This is Round 16 of the season," the commentator announced.
"The weather is extremely hot, and conditions tomorrow remain uncertain."
They turned to qualifying results.
"Rosenqvist claimed pole position yesterday, edging out Ocon by just three thousandths of a second."
"The seventeenth starter today is Wu Shi — the standout rookie of the season."
"He retired early from qualifying due to engine failure but still classified seventh."
"After working through the night, the team opted for a full powertrain change."
"That means a ten-place grid penalty for this race and the next two."
"We've seen him charge from eleventh to first at Hockenheim earlier this year."
"What can he do today?"
The formation lap ended.
Forty-two laps lay ahead — 96 kilometers around unforgiving concrete walls.
The cars lined up.
Five red lights illuminated.
Starting deep in the field, Wu Shi felt momentarily out of sync — unfamiliar with the new powertrain, blocked from clear sight of the lights.
Lights out.
He launched aggressively, hoping his reaction time would allow him to gain positions immediately.
Instead, the car ahead slowed unexpectedly.
A rival to the side closed the door.
Behind them, the pack surged forward in perfect formation.
Before Wu Shi could accelerate, he was boxed in — four cars wide.
No gap.
He was swept through the opening kink and aimed for Turn 2 — his only option.
The situation deteriorated instantly.
Everyone dove toward the inside.
That was his line.
He knew he couldn't stay central any longer.
Then—
Bang!
A heavy impact from behind.
The car snapped sideways as his front wing clipped another machine cutting across the corner.
Clack!
The sideways No. 32 became a barrier.
Cars piled in.
Four machines collided in a heartbeat.
"Oh! We've got a multi-car incident at Turn 2!"
"Wu Shi is involved!"
"Front wing and rear wing both gone!"
From the moment of impact, Wu Shi knew it was over.
Damn it.
New engine. New gearbox.
And it ends like this.
The car sat stranded alongside three others.
Wu Shi removed the headrest, climbed out, and perched on the cockpit edge.
Across the track, Tatiana Calderón emerged from her car, crouched down, and burst into tears.
"Aren't you going to comfort her?" a voice asked.
Wu Shi turned.
It was Antonio Fuoco from PREMA — another victim of the crash.
"I'm terrible at comforting people," Wu Shi replied.
"And if everyone comforts her, who's comforting me?"
"You've already locked up the championship," Fuoco snorted. "What do you need comfort for?"
Wu Shi smiled faintly.
This was the Norisring.
The last circuit on the F3 calendar where Verstappen would later create a rain-soaked miracle — the race that convinced Helmut Marko to sign him on the spot.
And for Wu Shi, it was only the beginning of something far more complicated.