The 14th driver to cross the finish line at the Chinese Grand Prix in April stopped his car in the middle of the track. Zhou Guanyu could hear his name chanted in the grandstands he once haunted as a boy, and his knees buckled as he climbed out of the cockpit. The cheers grew louder for China’s first and only Formula One driver, who had just competed in his first home race and — despite finishing near the back of the field — earned a hero’s welcome home. He covered the tears on his cheeks with his hands.

The event in Shanghai, where Zhou was born, had not been held in five years because of the coronavirus pandemic. Its return signaled F1’s renewed plans to grow in China, and in the days before the race, Zhou trumpeted the potential of the sport in his hometown, which will hold the second race on the schedule in 2025.

But Zhou could not say for sure whether he would race there in a year’s time — or even beyond. Zhou is a marketable face for the sport in China, already worth millions in sponsorship dollars and an inspiration for a new generation of young drivers there — yet his own career in F1 faces an uncertain future.

Zhou has never won an F1 race. He has not made a podium in three years on the grid. His contract with Sauber expires after this season, and it remains unclear if the Swiss team will re-sign the 25-year-old. While he has been publicly vocal about performance issues with his car, veteran and up-and-coming drivers alike are vying for his seat. His camp has been in contact with other teams about a potential seat in 2025, which probably will be affected by movement from other free agent drivers and how Zhou — who has earned no points through 10 races in 2024 — performs over the final stretch of this season.

“I feel like there should be a spot for me in the future on this grid,” he said. “But I just don’t know where.”

Even with his career at a crossroads, Zhou has not walled himself off from the noise. He said he doesn’t mind the conversation or hearing people’s opinions on social media. “If you’re strong enough, you can practice that confidence in yourself,” said Zhou, adding that it is exactly what he did after he secured a seat with Alfa Romeo in 2021, when he constantly heard fans doubt whether he deserved it or had just earned the spot because of money.

The road to that point had been more nuanced than that. His family moved with him from China to Sheffield, United Kingdom, when he was just 12 years old to chase a career in racing. Zhou didn’t know any English, let alone how to drive competitively. He struggled to communicate with other team members at first. For nearly a decade, he toiled in the minor leagues in Europe — from karting to F4 to F3 to F2 — and often yearned for home. “I loved this sport. But honestly, I didn’t feel like it loved me back,” he once wrote, reflecting on a childhood that had placed him in the cutthroat world of competing against other kids with F1 dreams.

“Being Chinese, moving to a totally different country, a different mentality, made him grow up faster,” said Rene Rosin, the team principal for Prema, a talent factory in Italy where Zhou raced in F4 as a teen. “It’s quite difficult, but he’s opened up a path for quite a few drivers from China now that are doing the same, moving into Italy or Europe and progressing in this opportunity.”

There are no Chinese drivers in the F2 or F3 feeder series, but Rosin said his team could have multiple Chinese drivers next season. And there are nearly a dozen Chinese drivers in the global karting pipeline, a direct result of Zhou’s influence, according to Mia Sharizman, who helped develop Zhou “as a once-in-a-generation project” in F2 as the former Alpine Academy director.

“These are kids that are 12, 13 years old, that all want to be him,” Sharizman said. “I told him, at the end of the day, your legacy is to make these kids believe. ... They may all not get there, the next generation. Maybe one will, in 20 years’ time.”

Zhou had attended the first F1 race in Shanghai when he was 6 years old in 2004, and towering posters of his face were plastered on the grandstands when he raced there in April. A documentary about his life called “The First One” was released in theaters there the week of the race. Tickets sold out well before the weekend. He wore a helmet emblazoned with a map of the city’s subway system and met with sponsors. He mostly celebrated with his family, who had sacrificed everything to get him there.

“It was very special and emotional,” he said. “For them it was good, too, to have your kid you went so far away from home for, trying to reach this dream.”

Since finishing the race in Shanghai, he has only felt the pressure of rivals chasing after his seat at Sauber, a position now only more coveted given Audi’s investment in the team for the 2026 season.

At the Canadian Grand Prix in June, his frustration bubbled over. He hit a barrier during the first practice round and slammed into a wall during the second. “I have no idea what’s happening with the car. The car is so strange, man,” he told his crew over the radio before walking back to the team’s hospitality tent with his helmet on. Before the race in Barcelona, his team switched back to a chassis used earlier in the year in hopes of curing its issues; Zhou finished 13th.

At times, it has felt just as grueling off the track; week after week, Zhou is faced with fresh questions about his future. Some have wondered, after more than a decade of climbing through the lower rungs of the sport and into this position, whether he would be willing to take a year off and serve as a reserve for a team. He might not have a choice.

“I don’t want to be the reserve. I don’t want to take a year off,” he said. “In Formula One, when you take a year off, it’s difficult to come back.”