Talent is just one aspect; what truly earns Ross Brown’s respect is Chen Xiangbei’s dedication.

Before Chen Xiangbei, he had never seen a young man so disciplined, spending almost all day in the training room and gym; even Schumacher, known for his hard work, was slightly inferior.

Since then, Ross Brown knew this young man was destined to succeed.

Listening to Ross Brown’s words, Rosberg remained silent.

Perhaps asking this question was nothing more than an unwillingness to admit that Chen Xiangbei was stronger than him.

Admitting it would shatter Rosberg’s confidence entirely, leaving silence as his only response.

"Boss, Xiangbei secured pole position in Monaco."

Pal, the Williams Team director, said this meaningfully.

Long ago, he had asked Sir Williams a question, whether he regretted missing out on Chen Xiangbei.

The answer was never regret.

Sir Williams believed other rookies might not be weaker than Chen Xiangbei, like Hockenheim winning the GP2 championship, also showing unparalleled speed and potential.

In fact, Hockenheim’s performance was not bad, essentially on par with veteran Barrichello, reaching the speed limit of the car while maintaining long-distance stability and wheel-to-wheel combat without weaknesses.

But Hockenheim’s limit was not high enough, at least compared to the super new generation drivers entering the F1 Paddock in recent years.

For instance, Hamilton, Vettel, Kubica, and even Rosberg.

Even today, compared to Chen Xiangbei, Hockenheim remains the same.

It’s not that Hockenheim is weak; it’s that the opponents are too strong.

"As you grow older, there will be times when you can’t see clearly."

Sir Williams, who had always strived to be strong, faced with Pal’s words, ultimately chose not to continue being stubborn.

"It’s rare for you to admit not seeing clearly."

"Does it matter whether I admit it or not, with a rookie driver already in the world championship contention?"

Sir Williams smiled; had he agreed to his old friend Staler’s advice back in the VIP suite with the floor-to-ceiling window at the Silverstone Circuit, UK, the fate of the Williams Team might have been different.

Over these years, maintaining team operations, Sir Williams could only use the word exhausting to describe.

An independently operated team increasingly fell behind factory teams and capital, and with age, Sir Williams’ health no longer supported him in recreating the glory of nine championships.

To break the trend of decline, a driver capable of turning the tide must appear to win the world championship title again.

Chen Xiangbei had that potential, but having missed the chance, there would be no more opportunities.

The reason is simple: a world champion driver in the rising stage wouldn’t come to a private small team like Williams, nor could he afford the price.

This is life; once missed, there is no ’what if.’

Compared to the amazement and regret of team leaders, HRT Team’s excitement was prominent as Chen Xiangbei drove the car into the P room.

Before Chen Xiangbei even got out of the car, team members surrounded him, their faces full of excitement and pride.

"Xiangbei, that was amazing, your performance was flawless!"

"Mr. Xiang Bei, you ran to the limit of the track, you’re at an Empire-level standard!"

"To hell with McLaren, Red Bull, Ferrari; HRT will reach the pinnacle too!"

"That’s right, long live HRT!"

Compared to the team’s celebration, Odetto crossed his arms while standing with Briatore, his expression relatively calm.

"Do you have anything to say about Xiangbei’s new line?"

Briatore asked, a meaning to say Trulli was his protégé, and familiar with the style and experience of the Italian hometown, yet Chen Xiangbei abandoned the teachings and cornering data, opting for a more extreme and aggressive line.

Honestly, being more extreme and aggressive wasn’t surprising.

After all, as long as you’re not afraid to die, you could weld the throttle to the floor and be more aggressive.

Unexpectedly, Chen Xiangbei succeeded.

Briatore couldn’t believe that without precedent or data support, Chen Xiangbei could successfully navigate a dozen corners, akin to winning the lottery.

He wanted to know if Odetto contributed to this.

"No, it has nothing to do with me."

Odetto knew what Briatore wanted to ask and preemptively denied it.

"Then how did this kid do it?"

"Talent."

"That’s a bit scary."

Briatore murmured.

His previous highest praise for Chen Xiangbei was the next Kimi Raikkonen, someone able to look up to Schumacher’s existence.

Now it seems this kid might someday rival Schumacher!

"Perez ran really well, you should decide to let the youngster catch a breath."

Odetto shifted the topic to Perez sitting nearby, watching Chen Xiangbei with envy and loneliness.

Envy for running a pole position performance, becoming the focus of the team and the field; loneliness was due to not being able to renew his contract before the second-to-last race, causing increasing internal pressure.

It’s similar to a contract renewal; as the deadline approaches, whether you’ll renew remains unanswered, the worry and anxiety inevitably surface.