Soaring Past the Constant Star [Rebirth] - Chapter 1

Motorsport is indeed rife with accidents, but with the continuous upgrading of protective measures, especially in top-tier events like Formula 1, the safety factor today is extremely high.

Consequently, an unlucky soul like Jiang Yue, whose life was jeopardized in an accident, could be considered a rarity in recent years.

Every coincidence pointed toward his tragic end. This included hitting the wall during Free Practice 3, which forced the team mechanics to work through the night just to get his car ready for the race, rain that arrived more suddenly than the meteorological department had predicted, a sudden burst of headache, and even a rival who usually slacked off at work but suddenly went mad today, risking a penalty just to force an overtake.

He flew off the track, the roll cage shattered, and his helmet cracked in several places under the violent impact. As his limbs went rigid and he became unable to move, the fuel tank dislodged, and the pungent smell of gasoline instantly filled the cramped cockpit.

Soon, the raging fire caused by the explosion completely swallowed his car.

Jiang Yue had been led down the “pointless road” of being a driver at a young age. Aside from a hypocritical romance a few years ago, he had been solitary until now. He just didn’t expect that he would ultimately follow in the footsteps of his maternal uncle, the man whose mention always made his mother cry, and die inside a cockpit.

Besides his mother and aunt, the only person he might miss was Duan Xingheng.

That bastard who tricked him onto this path died even earlier than he did.

When I get to the other side, I must overtake him once.

This thought flashed through Jiang Yue’s mind. Before he could die from the agony of the burning flames, the choking smoke drained the last bit of oxygen from his lungs, and he lost consciousness in a wave of intense suffocation.

Awareness faded away.

After an unknown amount of time, a human voice accompanied by noisy static woke Jiang Yue up.

He felt like a patient with ALS who had been miraculously cured, as his limbs regained sensation one after another. He was trapped in that familiar narrow space, with a custom-made carbon fiber seat beneath him. The strongest sensation was in his head, which felt swollen and dizzy, and he finally realized he was trapped upside down in the cockpit.

The team’s radio channel was constantly checking on his safety, but the voice sounded a bit strange. Jiang Yue dazed out an answer to indicate he was still alive, even though he was in a state of extreme disbelief. Soon, he felt his car being flipped over. He hurriedly rotated the buckle to release all the straps on his body, then cooperated with the track marshals to be dragged out and placed on a stretcher.

How did I survive?

Until he was declared out of the race, Jiang Yue’s mind was still filled with this question. He was poked and prodded by the medical staff, and after they confirmed there was nothing seriously wrong, he held his undamaged helmet and stared at the livery on the car being towed away, his head buzzing.

That was the team he stayed with a few years ago, Aston, a midfield team. it was a relatively bright spot on his resume, but the contract had ended five years ago.

So he was just dragged out of that car? How was this possible?

Perhaps because his head had been bumped, Jiang Yue didn’t immediately think to look at the racing suit he was wearing. He looked up and saw the replay of the opening lap accident on the big screen. That car, which had become somewhat unfamiliar to him, was caught in a pincer movement between two cars during the chaotic scramble for positions. The car on the right clipped his right rear wheel, and then both cars slid off the track. His car spun and flew quite a distance until it hit the barrier and stopped upside down.

He was familiar with this scene because he had experienced it once five years ago, and it left a deep impression.

At that time, Jiang Yue was still a rookie who could barely squeeze into the points. Having secured a high starting position in qualifying the day before, he was one of the few Chinese drivers in F1 history. He retired miserably under the public gaze, and because of that, he gained an unexpected amount of attention, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

After some time, a cheer suddenly erupted from the stands. The screen changed, and the safety car left the track after two laps. The lead car had a striking black and silver livery, performing a perfect defense at a corner, and then used superior exit speed to pull away from the car behind amidst the roar of the engine.

Jiang Yue looked at that car and the three letters at the top of the leaderboard on the left side of the screen:

ALD.

He didn’t know how long it had been since he last saw that name.

Once, this name was incredibly brilliant in the long history of Formula 1. Duan Xingheng inherited the surname Aldington from his grandfather, but he did not live in its shadow. It was said that he chose ALD simply because “Duan” was difficult to pronounce, though his Chinese name was more widely known. A genius driver, a six-time world champion, covered in glory, yet with his hasty decision to retire and an unsatisfactory final race, everything vanished like a falling star.

Jiang Yue stared intently at the footage of Duan Xingheng on the screen, his heart racing so hard that he didn’t even hear the team manager calling him several times.

Duan Xingheng should have been dead for two years.

Only then did Jiang Yue confirm a fantastical fact: he had returned to the past, back to the season five years ago.

“You rest first, there will be an interview later,” the manager said and left. Jiang Yue was immersed in shock and had no time to worry about his surroundings. He just stared blankly at the race broadcast. By now, Duan Xingheng had pulled far ahead. This race was already over. Jiang Yue knew very well that there were no cars left on the track that could threaten Duan Xingheng. The screen cut to the battles behind him; the champion driver had already entered cruise mode, so there was no need to give him more airtime.

Jiang Yue remembered that five years ago, it was just like this. He retired early due to the start-line accident and then watched the rest of the boring race in the lounge, seeing Duan Xingheng cross the line with a ten-second lead, accept the interview, and stand on the podium.

The two of them rarely crossed paths in the paddock. Only some fans who followed gossip and people within the circle knew they were close friends. Some media outlets even jokingly called “Little Aldington,” which is Duan Xingheng, Jiang Yue’s idol who got him into the sport. But in the eyes of the public, there seemed to be no intersection between the glorious champion of a top team and a rookie driver who had only been in F1 for two years.

“Duan, this is your 60th Grand Prix victory. Your performance was, as always, impeccable. How do you feel?”

Duan Xingheng took off his helmet, hugged the team as usual, and the reporter handed over the microphone.

“There were a series of incidents at the start that I didn’t notice immediately. I heard that Jiang is okay, and that is the best thing that happened today…”

Duan Xingheng looked directly at the camera and gave a faint smile. At that moment, Jiang Yue felt as if he were looking through the screen at him. He was British, with a standard BBC accent, but his grandmother and mother were both Chinese. He had deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, and thick, bold eyebrows that arched upward, making his face handsome and full of intensity. He was the dream lover of many female racing fans.

Looking at that face on the screen, Jiang Yue couldn’t help but feel another wave of daze.

He remembered that in his previous life, after Duan Xingheng retired and vanished for a while, the media reported that he had participated in several rally championships. In one of the rounds, he was injured, and a hideous scar ran from his temple to his cheekbone, irreversibly ruining that perfect face.

Perhaps feeling that his previous sentence was a bit abrupt, Duan Xingheng paused and added:

“In short, it’s a blessing that no one was injured. It was a perfect race, the team gave me a lot of help, and I thank everyone.”

This speech was exactly as Jiang Yue remembered. At the same time, he hadn’t forgotten that after the clip of this interview was uploaded online, it caused a wave of discussion.

Some said Duan Xingheng truly had the grace of a champion, showing such concern for a competitor’s safety. Others quickly countered that since this so-called competitor was far from being a threat to Duan Xingheng, such an attitude was only natural.

Meanwhile, some gossipy fans began to question: since other drivers were injured besides Jiang Yue, why did he only mention Jiang Yue’s name?

Of course, this was just a trivial matter. Jiang Yue only remembered that back then, the words “far from being a threat” had indeed stung his younger self.

The British national anthem played on the podium, and champagne sprayed everywhere. Compared to the joy a Grand Prix winner should have, Duan Xingheng appeared very calm. Seeing this, Jiang Yue went out to accept an interview, stating that he was fine and would regroup for the next race.

The race finally officially concluded.

Jiang Yue followed the team back to the hotel, which was less than three kilometers from the track. He ate some of the hotel’s buffet and declined the invitation from others in the team to go for a drink. Incidentally, his teammate John successfully finished in the points, taking ninth place and earning two points, which was good news worth celebrating. However, Jiang Yue was still in a daze. He used the excuse of needing rest and returned to his room early, locking the door.

Deep into the night, he spent a long time scrolling through news on his phone. Seeing that all the major events were exactly as he remembered, he finally processed the fact that he had been reborn.

Perhaps it was God, or Providence, or some omnipotent being that heard his final wish and allowed an atheist like him to return to five years ago.

So, Jiang Yue took another ten minutes to calmly identify his goals.

First, to beat Duan Xingheng, he had to prevent Duan Xingheng from retiring.

Second, to beat Duan Xingheng, he couldn’t let Duan Xingheng die.

Finally, to beat Duan Xingheng, he had to get into a better team and have a better car, just like in his previous life.

After doing all this, Jiang Yue lay on the bed, still unable to sleep.

Becoming five years younger all of a sudden is not something anyone can accept quickly. But the reason his mind was in a mess went far beyond that. His secret rivalry with Duan Xingheng had begun unilaterally when he was young and naive, and by the time Duan Xingheng died young, that desire to win had already become a knot in his heart. He sat up from the bed, scrolled through his contacts to that name, hesitated for a moment, exited the interface, and threw his phone back onto the bed.

It was hard to describe his feelings.

Perhaps it was the fear of being so close? He was just in the team garage, and Duan Xingheng’s car was parked right below the podium. Yet he had isolated himself from the outside world and missed this chance for a reunion across time and space. He didn’t know how to face Duan Xingheng now, nor did he remember how he and the other man interacted five years ago.

Everything about the man had long since become countless memory fragments to be traced after his death.

But Jiang Yue had to admit, he really wanted to see him. After all, this wasn’t just a few words mentioned on a website or a memorial clip by a fan, this was the living, breathing Duan Xingheng himself.

Even before his rebirth, he had won many trophies, even a world title. But in front of Duan Xingheng, who was both an opponent and an older brother figure, he always lacked confidence.

Jiang Yue hesitated for a long time and ultimately did not dial the number. Just as he was preparing to go downstairs to run a few laps around the hotel, his phone rang.

Jiang Yue picked up his phone, and when he saw the caller’s name, it was as if his hand had been burned, he nearly dropped the phone.

It was the very person he had been struggling over just moments ago.

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