In the buffer zone, Reisner was curled up on the sand, his body contorted in pain, his hands clutching his right leg tightly.
In the pit lane, Ben Tian, the chief technician, had already fallen to his knees, not so much out of fear as from an inability to accept the reality. A chief technician kneeling in GP was a famous scene, almost a yearly occurrence.
Reisner's crash meant that nearly a month's worth of their team's effort had been wasted.
As they approached Reisner, the staff quickly set up a stretcher.
"How do you feel? Can you move?"
Squatting beside Reisner, a medic asked the tense, pain-stricken rider. Seeing no reaction, only his constant gasping for air, the medic didn't hesitate, immediately signaling for people to carry the stretcher and rush towards the sidelines.
"Is something going to happen?"
Below the stage, seeing this scene, Fu Qingyun's eyes showed a hint of worry. It was her first time witnessing a rider crash up close; it was terrifying. The car parts were scattered everywhere, and the rider had tumbled head over heels into the sand. It wasn't that she was worried about the rider; her concern was for her son.
"There shouldn't be any problems. The safety facilities here are quite comprehensive."
"Let's hope so."
Su Mojin's words were insincere, but at this moment, she had to say them.
Reisner's sudden crash secured Luns's podium position. The gap to Qionghai ahead was five seconds, an insurmountable distance. As for Lin Yan, he was at least ten seconds ahead, and Luns could barely see the tail of Lin Yan's bike anymore.
Following the team's instructions, Lin Yan adopted a conservative riding style in the last ten laps, focusing on steady progress.
"The last lap, it's the last lap! Dong Ge, I can't take it anymore, I'm getting too excited."
As the race entered its final lap, Su Chen's lips were trembling. His brother-in-law was only a few corners away from the finish line, and he was overwhelmingly excited. Hao Dong was in a similar state, but years of professional discipline allowed him to maintain composure.
The spectators, however, could no longer contain themselves. Some Chinese fans were jumping and cheering ecstatically, dancing the "sea grass dance" on their seats, their excited screams echoing.
Below the stage, Zhang Mingzhi and Venales gripped each other's hands tightly. Zhang Mingzhi's face was flushed, a picture of someone trying to suppress the urge to celebrate prematurely. Venales had the same expression. Su Mojin, on the other hand, was relaxed, waving her small fists and cheering loudly for her husband.
"Over here, the final sector. Coming out of turn fifteen, entering turn sixteen. Qionghai behind is still unable to close the gap. Then comes the final turn seventeen!"
"Lin Shen, prepare to cross the finish line!"
"The main straight, the finish line! Let's congratulate Lin Shen on winning the 2022 MotoGP World Championship!"
"And also the first world champion in Ducati's history!"
Amidst Hao Dong's passionate shout, Lin Yan's bike crossed the finish line. Simultaneously, dazzling fireworks erupted from the fences of the Valencia International Circuit, brilliant and spectacular.
Two helicopters circling overhead unfurled pre-prepared banners. These were supposed to have been displayed at the previous race but were postponed to this one due to delays.
The fighter jets that appeared at the start of the race reappeared in the sky, leaving six trails of red smoke. As his bike crossed the finish line, Lin Yan slowly reduced his speed. His mission for the day was complete.
Of course, he had also secured the championship. A mild sense of exhilaration lessened his physical fatigue.
A few seconds later, Qionghai and Luns behind him also crossed the finish line, their bikes converging around Lin Yan's.
"Congratulations!"
As his bike came to a halt, Qionghai extended his fist, and Lin Yan met it with his own.
Within thirty seconds, all the riders had finished, gathering at the starting position and surrounding Lin Yan's bike.
"Congratulations, congratulations!"
"Congratulations!"
"..."
Fists were extended one by one, and Lin Yan reciprocated each one. After acknowledging them, Lin Yan pulled up his helmet visor and waved to the fans in the stands.
A roar of cheers erupted from the stands. The usual ritual followed: giving away helmets, tire warmers, and gloves. Lin Yan tossed all his gear towards the crowd.
To the surprise of some riders, Lin Yan's demeanor after winning seemed too calm.
Indeed, he was very calm. Compared to how other riders celebrated winning a world championship, he was far too composed. Even if he didn't shed tears, one would expect some excitement. What was the meaning of his expressionless face?
Lin Yan's expression was very placid. After giving away his gear, he embraced Su Mojin, who had run over, and a rare smile appeared on his face.
Lin Yan would have cried the first time he won a world championship, as it was the goal he had strived for since childhood. But now, this was his eighth time. He was incredibly composed.
The international commentators and the live commentators simultaneously announced Lin Yan as the year's world champion. A swarm of reporters surrounded him, their cameras flashing incessantly.
"Alright, let me go. Aren't you afraid of getting too hot?"
At Lin Yan's urging, Su Mojin finally released her embrace. Fortunately, the weather wasn't particularly hot today, and Lin Yan's racing suit wasn't unbearable, otherwise, he might have actually burned his beloved girl.
The awards ceremony for the final race didn't have to wait until the afternoon. The red carpet not far from the finish line led to the podium, which had already been discreetly set up by the staff. Under the gaze of several cameras, Lin Yan stepped onto it.
The end of the red carpet faced the stands, and through the organizers' clever design, these stands were designated for Chinese fans. Nearly a thousand fervent fans held up life-sized cardboard cutouts of Lin Yan's face and cheered wildly.
At the front barrier of the stands, a long, narrow screen, one hundred meters long and over a meter wide, was embedded. It was divided into several rectangular sections, displaying edited video clips of Lin Yan's thirteen races this year, with shots of him leaning into corners and performing skillful maneuvers playing on a loop.
The short red carpet, only a few dozen meters long, took Lin Yan nearly half a minute to walk. Nearly a hundred media reporters lined both sides of the carpet, their flashes constantly illuminating Lin Yan's face. At the end of the carpet, a long, pillar-like structure slowly rose from the ground. The top of the rectangular pillar was transparent, a transparent cube containing a golden-plated helmet.
The Champion's Golden Helmet was a special edition awarded only to world champions, limited to one globally, and officially certified by MotoGP.