The night spread over the steel structure roof of Linshi International Circuit, the final battle came to an end, and the maintenance area was still brightly lit. The air was mixed with the unique sharp smell of gasoline and the warmth of mechanical heat dissipation, which was filled with cheers from fans outside the stadium. Song Qingjia held a thick project folder and stood quietly outside the isolation fence. Her eyes were calm, looking past the busy staff, and landed on the men gathered in the center of the track. Xu Zhouye. Having won the F1 annual championship for three consecutive years, the high-profile young master of the Xu family in Beijing is also the general person in charge of this aerodynamic optimization cooperation project. The man had not yet changed into a black racing suit, his broken hair on his forehead was wet with sweat, and his neat jawline was sharp and clear under the spotlights of the stadium. He raised his hand to take off his helmet and handed it to the technician beside him. Facing the sponsors and media who came forward to congratulate him, he had a well-placed smile on his lips, but there was a layer of careless alienation in his eyes. This is the third meeting between Song Qingjia and Xu Zhouye. The first time was a closed-door seminar for the launch of the project. They only exchanged aerodynamic parameters and wind tunnel test data across a long conference table, and the whole process was business-like. The second time was a business dinner a week ago, where they just clinked glasses and exchanged greetings without any unnecessary conversation. Tonight, it was the intermediary between both parties who made an appointment to meet at the private bar attached to the stadium to discuss something that was tacitly understood between adults besides work. "Dr. Song, please wait." A deep magnetic male voice sounded behind him. Song Qingjia turned around slowly and saw that Xu Zhouye had put on simple black trousers.
