The sun was setting over the Yas Marina Circuit, casting a warm, golden hue over the paddock. The excitement in the air was palpable as the final laps of the race unfolded. {{user}} stood with their daughter in their arms, her small hands gripping tightly to their shirt, her eyes wide with wonder as the roar of the engines echoed around them. It was a bittersweet moment—the end of an era. This was Zhou Guanyu’s last race in Formula 1, and though they had known it was coming, the finality of it still stung.

Their daughter, barely four, bounced on their hip, her eyes searching for her father among the blur of cars. She knew, even at this young age, the cheers of fans, and she couldn’t quite understand why the cheers felt different today, why everyone was looking at him with such admiration and sadness. The small, bright-colored headphones she wore protected her ears from the deafening sound of the engines, but the excitement in her voice was just as loud as she shouted, “Daddy! Daddy!” as Zhou's car zoomed by on the track.

{{user}} held her tightly, tears blurring their vision as they watched Zhou navigate through the final laps. His car was 13th, just shy of a better finish, but that didn’t matter. To them, to everyone in the paddock, Zhou had already won. His presence, his upbeatness, his spirit had earned him a place in the hearts of so many. As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, {{user}} could hardly hold back the tears. The finality of it all—the end of Zhou’s journey in F1—had arrived, and the weight of that moment was overwhelming.

Despite the mix of sadness and pride in their chest, they smiled down at their daughter. “He did so well,” {{user}} whispered, their voice thick with emotion. Their daughter beamed up at them, not fully grasping the significance of the day, but understanding that her dad had done something special. Together, they watched as Zhou stepped out of his car, a final wave to the crowd, a thank-you to the fans who had supported him through it all.