Start with push-ups to gain experience

Chapter 359 Wolves and Sheep, Higher-Order Humanoid Creatures

Chapter 359 Wolves and Sheep, Higher-Order Humanoid Creatures
The atmosphere in the corridor became somewhat tense for a moment.

Councilor Zhao's two bodyguards had sharp eyes, still staring intently at the closed elevator door, their hands unconsciously resting on the inside of their suits.

The red-faced old man's eyes flickered slightly, as if he were deep in thought.

The elevator's down indicator light came on, and the group waited quietly.

"Old Dong, what's wrong?"

The middle-aged man, referred to as "Councilor Zhao," asked in a steady voice.

"Oh, nothing."

The red-faced old man came to his senses and shook his head:
"The young man in the elevator just now reminded me of someone I used to know, or maybe I was mistaken."

Councilor Zhao nodded slightly, not pressing for further details, and instead patted the old man on the shoulder, saying sincerely:

"Old Dong, thanks to your advice and suggestions, and your advocacy in the legal community, I was able to turn the tide and win this crucial round in Congress."

"I will remember this feeling."

His tone was unhurried, yet it possessed a convincing power.

“Councilor Zhao, you are too kind. It is our duty to promote justice and eliminate corruption.”

The old man quickly waved his hand and said seriously, "Even without me, with your ability and reputation, you can still get through this safely."

The young assistant who had been quietly waiting nearby smiled and chimed in at just the right moment:

"Mr. Dong, you are too modest. The councilors often tell us in private that you are like our Jiang Ziya or Zhang Liang. With you around, everyone feels at ease."

These words flattered Elder Dong and showed how much Councilor Zhao relied on him; they were spoken flawlessly.

Councilor Zhao gave his assistant an approving look, then smiled and shook his head, a subtle, unspoken meaning flashing in his eyes.

Just then, with a "ding," another elevator arrived.

Soft light streamed down from the ceiling of the corridor, illuminating the dark red carpet beneath their feet and outlining Councilor Zhao's slender yet composed figure.

The elevator doors slid open slowly, and he made a "please" gesture first, with a calm and composed demeanor.

....................................

The night view of Dongdu is dazzling with lights, and skyscrapers rush past outside the window.

The black SUV drove smoothly on the highway.

Fang Cheng gripped the steering wheel, his expression focused.

In the back seat, Li Dingjian was already fast asleep, snoring softly.

Wen Xin was also tired, and her little head rested on Zhou Xiumei's shoulder, nodding slightly.

"Chengcheng".

Li Biyun finally couldn't help but ask, "What happened in the elevator just now? And what about your friend surnamed Ma?"

Zhou Xiumei also cast a concerned glance at her.

"nothing."

Fang Cheng's tone was very calm:

"Those two are Ma Donghe's old classmates, and we just happened to run into them here."

"I originally wanted to chat with them after recognizing them, but they had drunk too much, so Donghyuk took them to a nearby hotel to get them a room and settle them in."

This explanation was clearly far-fetched, and Li Biyun looked at it with a hint of suspicion.

However, seeing that her son didn't want to say more, she didn't ask any further questions.

Zhou Xiumei quietly held Wen Xin, but her gaze swept across Fang Cheng's face in the rearview mirror, revealing a hint of worry in her eyes.

Fang Cheng gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands, his gaze passing through the windshield.

Gazing at the distant stream of cars formed by countless taillights, his eyes flickered, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, in a dark alley not far from Wangjiang Tower.

It was damp and filthy, with the sour, rotten smell of overflowing garbage cans mixed with the stench of cheap cigarettes, making it nauseating.

Snap, snap—

Heavy objects were continuously being thrown to the ground.

It sounds like someone is playing an extremely violent wrestling game here.

After a few suppressed screams and muffled thuds of bones colliding, only heavy breathing remained in the alley.

A couple passing by the alley heard the noise inside and curiously peeked out.

Her face turned ashen, she clutched her arms tightly, and almost ran away as if a demon were chasing her.

stab-

The sound of tires screeching echoed through the quiet street as a white van without license plates screeched to a halt at the alley entrance.

The car door was pulled open with a "whoosh," and several young men wielding iron bars and watermelon knives jumped out.

They were wearing flashy vests with dragons and tigers drawn on their arms; they didn't look like respectable people at all.

"Big brother, where are you?"

A blond-haired man shouted first:
"We've brought all our guys. We'll make sure that bastard who dares to offend Brother Cheng and you knows how many eyes Lord Ma has!"

"Yes, Brother Ma."

Another burly man chimed in, saying menacingly, "Just tell me which leg or arm you want to break, or should we just stab him through the heart?"

The group rushed into the alley with a lot of noise, but were stunned by the scene in front of them.

In the darkness, a burly, bear-like figure straddled another person, seemingly muttering something to himself.

"Damn it, what's going on? Are assassins these days so easy to kill?"

Hearing the shout, the figure stood up, turned around, and slowly pulled up his pants.

The henchmen looked closely and saw two men lying on the ground.

His clothes were disheveled, his face was bruised and swollen, and blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth. He had completely passed out.

Looking at their eldest brother's appearance after "exercising," the younger brothers' eyes instantly turned strange, and they looked at each other in bewilderment.

Ignoring their stares, Ma Donghe grinned, revealing a set of white teeth that looked particularly eerie in the darkness.

"Take these two puppies back to base right away. I'm going to have to give them a good beating tonight."

He emphasized the word "serve," intending to express that he intended to use torture during interrogation.

But these words took on a completely different meaning when they reached the ears of the group of underlings whose thoughts were already somewhat filthy.

They shuddered and looked at the two unconscious men on the ground.

His eyes were filled with sympathy and awe.

Sympathy for the two unfortunate men, and reverence for his elder brother.

"yes, Sir!"

The henchmen didn't dare ask any more questions and quickly responded, hurriedly lifting the two half-dead assassins and dragging them into the van like sacks.

Ma Donghyuk clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking, and muttered to himself with satisfaction:

"After so much seclusion and arduous training, it seems my strength has actually improved quite a bit..."

Just then, a frantic call came from a broken headset on the ground:

"Night Owl, Hound, respond if you hear me..."

"What happened? Why did the target leave safely? Report your location immediately..."

Ma Donghe raised an eyebrow, lifted his foot, and stomped down heavily.

Click!

The communicator was completely reduced to a pile of plastic fragments, and the sound stopped abruptly.

The van's engine started, beeped twice, and it quickly merged into the traffic on the main road and disappeared from sight.

Only the deserted alleyway remained, swallowed once again by shadows and silence under the city's neon lights.

....................................

It was just past five in the morning.

The old factory street, bathed in the soft morning light, appeared exceptionally quiet and peaceful.

The sky was a calm and deep inky blue.

The outlines of buildings in the distance were faintly visible, as if the entire city had not yet fully emerged from the night.

On the rooftop of the tenement building, a figure stands on a square concrete water tank.

More accurately, it should be that you support yourself with your hands on the ground, lift your feet off the ground, and suspend your body in mid-air.

If you zoom in, you can even see that the weight of his entire body is supported by only one index finger on each hand.

The figure was practicing a difficult handstand push-up in an unbelievable way.

Two fingers pressed against the rough cement surface, like steel nails driven into it, firmly supporting and controlling the body to prevent it from tipping over. With each downward bend of the arms and subsequent upward push, the muscles of the upper body undulated and bulged clearly, as if alive.

The morning breeze kept blowing across the rooftop, bringing a touch of coolness, but it couldn't shake his body in the slightest.

The image of the person stands like a flagpole on the rooftop, watching over the city that is still asleep.

Residential buildings are scattered nearby, while tall buildings gradually become clearer in the distance.

It all seemed to become the stage backdrop for him to display his well-built muscles and extraordinary physique.

"..."

"498."

"499."

"500."

With the final downward bend of his arms, Fang Cheng silently counted the number of repetitions, and with the coordinated effort of his arm, shoulder, and back muscles, he propelled his body to its peak.

Then, tightening his core, his legs traced a graceful arc in the air before landing lightly, allowing him to stand upright again.

A pale blue screen appeared before my eyes.

[Handstand Push-up Experience +15]

[Handstand Support Lv2 (470/500)]

"It'll be upgraded in a few days..."

Looking at the experience progress bar that was about to fill up, Fang Cheng muttered to himself, his eyes revealing anticipation.

After a short rest and adjusting their breathing rhythm, they immediately bent down to the ground and began the next training exercise.

One-finger push-up.

These days, in order to prepare for the re-examination and to put his mother at ease, Fang Cheng has been staying at his home on Jiuchang Street.

Without the professional training equipment provided in the apartment in Haitian Garden, they could only adapt to local conditions and intensify their practice of the six arts of prisoner fitness.

Fang Cheng's temporary morning exercise plan is as follows:

500 two-finger handstand push-ups, 600 one-finger hanging leg raises, 600 one-finger pull-ups, 800 one-finger push-ups, 800 one-leg bridges, and 1000 one-leg squats.

Compared to the extreme weight training I did at the gym before, this bodyweight training is actually much easier in terms of intensity, and there is no pressure to do it.

Because there are so many repetitions, the frequency of the movements must be increased in order to finish before dawn.

As a result, the efficiency of the exercise is not as thorough as it used to be when you gradually exert force.

After all, only by prolonging the eccentric and concentric phases of the movement as much as possible can we more fully stimulate the tearing and growth of muscle fibers, thereby maximizing the control and endurance of the whole body's muscles.

In addition, there is a small difficulty.

When practicing single-finger pull-ups and hanging leg raises, the old water pipes on the rooftop are too thick and round to be suitable as a support point for generating force.

However, this is not insurmountable for Fang Cheng.

The "Absolute Control" skill effect grants him perfect control over the power in his palms.

With the added friction of ten times the strength of his fingers, the smooth water pipe became as secure as if it were glued to his fingertips.

As morning exercise continued, the city skyline was gradually illuminated with bright edges against the dark blue background.

On the street, the roller shutters of breakfast stalls were pulled up, making a "whoosh" sound, interspersed with a few coughs and muffled conversations.

The crisp sound of bicycle bells grew louder as they approached, accompanied by the deep hum of a car engine starting up.

Various sounds began to intertwine, together composing the morning hymn of the city's awakening.

When the last step, pointing the finger upwards, was completed, Fang Cheng let out a long sigh of relief.

He landed on his feet, his toes lightly touching the ground, and as if weightless, he silently leaped back onto the concrete water tank.

At this moment, the first ray of sunlight finally pierced through the gaps between the tall buildings and fell on the rooftop of this old tenement building.

Fang Cheng's muscles were clearly defined, and his bronze skin reflected an oily sheen.

He stood on top of the water tank, looking down at the street scene that was gradually coming to life, and casually stretched his limbs.

Then, he lowered himself to the ground, facing the rising sun, and began practicing air strikes in this small space.

His movements do not pursue speed; each move is clear and distinct, his advances and retreats are well-founded, and his demeanor is calm and composed.

Each strike contains internal strength, hidden and unleashed, focusing more on the connection and skill application between moves.

Even so, a muffled whooshing sound still echoed in the air, the wind howling endlessly.

Like a qigong master on TV, every punch he throws comes with its own sound effects.

Only after all five combat skills have been practiced does the morning exercise enter its final stage – Qigong conditioning.

"Hululu——"

Fang Cheng focused his mind and circulated his qi and blood, making a faint sound as he breathed.

Rumbling--

In an instant, all the muscles, joints, and even blood in his body trembled together, continuously emitting a deep, resonant sound.

Within moments, he was like a boiling kettle.

Faint white smoke continuously rose from his legs, arms, shoulders, and even the top of his head.

However, this scene is not very noticeable when viewed from a distance.

As Fang Cheng's Qigong skill level improved, he was already able to skillfully control the circulation of true Qi.

During practice, I always try to keep a low profile to avoid making too much noise and attracting unnecessary trouble.

He hunched his shoulders, straightened his back, lowered his waist, and planted his legs firmly on the cement ground like the roots of an old tree.

Maintain the standing posture, continuously inhale and exhale, repeating the cycle.

About fifteen minutes later, her face was flushed, and the white smoke on her body gradually decreased until it disappeared completely.

"call--"

Fang Cheng's Adam's apple bobbed, sounding like a tiger or leopard's low growl.

Two clearly visible white jets of air shot out from his nostrils, traveling several meters before dissipating into the air.

After finishing his practice, Fang Cheng stood up straight, shook his arms and shoulders, and kicked his legs.

I felt incredibly comfortable all over, and every pore seemed perfectly clear.

A new notification message appears before your eyes.

[Qigong Experience +3]

Qigong lv2 (120/500)

Fang Cheng's lips curled into a slight smile.

Despite having just finished a high-intensity morning workout, I feel full of energy and vitality.

Even if an enemy suddenly appears at this moment, he can immediately unleash all his power and engage in battle.

Fang Cheng twisted his neck and shoulders, making a series of crackling sounds.

As the sun rose higher, I raised my wrist and glanced at my sports watch.

It's already 6:35.

There are also postgraduate entrance examination interviews this morning.

At this time, Mom should already be up and busy making breakfast for herself.

Thinking of this, Fang Cheng quickly turned to the side, performed a light side somersault, and jumped off the water tank, landing steadily back on the rooftop.

Then, he picked up his coat and trousers that were lying to the side and quickly put them on.

Fang Cheng wasn't actually very anxious about the upcoming interview.

If it were six months ago, he might have been nervous or even stage-frightened when facing examiners who could decide his fate.

but now……

Fitness brings more than just strong muscles; it brings a confidence that comes from the essence of life.

Fang Cheng is now far beyond the realm of ordinary people.

Strictly speaking, he is a higher-order humanoid species.

Can you imagine a mentally sound adult feeling awkward or stuttering when facing a five- or six-year-old child?

The difference does not stem from intelligence or social status, but from a fundamental difference in the level of life.

It's like the mindset of a wolf observing a sheep.

There is scrutiny, analysis, and perhaps even curiosity.

But there is no tension or fear.