The four major teams often take up eight qualifying slots, and now with Barrichello and Kubica showing competitiveness, it ans that the remaining two spots are highly contested. Chen Xiangbei's fastest lap from his first practice session is already nearing the cutoff line for the second practice session.
"Got it."
"So calm, can it go faster?"
Odetto asked with a teasing tone.
The reason he inford Chen Xiangbei about the opponent's lap tis was that after more than a year of working together, Odetto knew how strong the Chinese Kid's ability to handle pressure was.
Yet, Chen Xiangbei's calm and frightening reaction still took him by surprise.
"As fast as the car can go, I can drive it that fast."
Chen Xiangbei's arrogant declaration ca through the headphones.
Just when the team mbers thought the conversation was over, Chen Xiangbei's voice sounded again.
"Even if the car isn't fast enough, I can still drive faster!"
With this statent, every team mber had a brilliant expression on their face.
Even Briatore, who was used to grand occasions and rebels, smirked and said, "Odetto, it seems the real unyielding one is this kid."
"And then?"
"I like young people who can withstand trials; that way, we don't have to worry about them chickening out."
Briatore was profound, knowing there is a difference between daring to risk it and being qualified to risk it.
Like many street racers who dare to speed recklessly, that's just daring to risk it.
But for drivers of the level of the Isle of Man TT or Senna to challenge speed, that is being qualified to risk it.
Chen Xiangbei was completely unrestrained on his ho track, and Briatore wanted to see just how fast he could go!
The TF110 engine roared once again across the sky, and all the team mbers, including the pit technicians inside, filed into the pit room, sitting row by row in front of the broadcast screen, keenly watching Chen Xiangbei's qualifying lap footage.
Only Mizutani Sho remained focused on the racing data monitoring laptop. After all, Ferrari's team hadn't rigorously tested the ultra-power mode, and this "training by battle" thod was fraught with risk.
He wasn't worried about Chen Xiangbei encountering problems but was more concerned about whether the car could withstand the pressure.
The qualifying session is all about squeezing every ounce of performance out of the car, challenging every corner's limit on the track, and Chen Xiangbei's speeding image on the small monitor screen provided a visually striking impact.
Bear in mind that many cornering lines might be just a few centiters away from the track's edge barriers and protective walls.
And Chen Xiangbei, driving the TF110 racing car, challenged this finger-width distance at an average speed of over 220 km/h. Imagine how thrilling that is?
If it weren't for the slow-motion captures, from a conventional perspective, it would seem like he was about to crash into the wall, causing many new F1 fans at the scene to exclaim in awe.
So timid girls and children were even frightened enough to close their eyes!
Not to ntion the audience, even Chen Xiangbei himself, during the intensely focused driving process which required just one lap, found his undershirt quickly soaked with sweat despite the East Sea's late spring air temperature barely reaching twenty degrees.
This is the sheer intensity of F1 racing, seemingly without any physical action, yet every muscle in the body exerts effort.
And as the speed increased, Chen Xiangbei almost forgot the physical burden brought by G-forces, with his eyes solely fixed on the various racing data displayed on the dashboard.
Every corner required delaying the braking point as much as possible to pursue those precious milliseconds for a ti advantage and to clock his fastest lap for advancing to Q3.
The mont the TF110 car crossed the finish line, the massive broadcast screen above the track switched to show the drivers' qualifying lap ti rankings, and the na at the top changed.
1 minute 31 seconds 995!
"Aweso, Chen Xiangbei broke into 1 minute 31 seconds and reclaid the top position."
"This result definitely secures a spot in Q3. He deserves to be called the Chinese God of Racing, Bei!"
"Seems like the pole position is not just a dream, Chen Xiangbei is about to create a miracle."
"Go, God of Racing Bei!"
The audience on the track was thrilled. Many of them could foresee Chen Xiangbei making it to Q3, but they didn't expect him to reclaim the top position again.
And the nickna transitioned from Chen Xiangbei, Driver Bei, to more people calling him God of Racing Bei.
For Chinese viewers, it was almost akin to witnessing a miracle.
"Is the HRT Racing Car really that strong?"
"Ferrari's bunch of fools are breeding trouble, tuning a car faster than their own!"
"Isn't it normal for an engine supplier to lose to a custor team? rcedes can't outrun McLaren, Renault can't beat Red Bull, that's the tradition of F1."
"Besides, it might not be the HRT car being fast; look at Trulli, he's only ranked eleventh and might even struggle to make it to Q3."
Among the grandstands, a small number of foreign spectators weren't as elated as the Chinese fans. They were more focused on discussing the car and driver issues.
Ferrari fans, in particular, were deeply troubled!
Other teams or drivers can only call a certain track their ho circuit.
Ferrari, apart from Italy's Monza, lacks no support from the red prancing horse brigade fans on virtually any track worldwide.
And on tracks without a ho team or driver, it can even beco a sea of Ferrari red, like the previous East Sea International Circuit, where Schumacher's prancing horse flags fluttered everywhere.
Perhaps sensing the audience's discussions, Ferrari's team principal Donicali was feeling a complex mix of emotions.
He was aware that the headquarters' managent had reached an agreent with the HRT Team, providing engine technology support in exchange for them becoming a Ferrari custor team next year.
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