MTLNOVEL Chapter 312_2
The neon lights outside the window flicker intermittently, casting a mesmerizing glow.
It's as if reflecting the unseen undercurrents hidden within this city.
.........
Four o'clock in the morning.
The darkness is like a heavy velvet curtain, pressing heavily on the city sky.
In the distance, the rows of skyscrapers mostly have their windows tightly closed.
Only a few scattered lights slightly twinkle in the boundless darkness, like the sparse eyes of a sleeping giant beast.
On the streets, the dim streetlights gently sway in the cold wind, casting elongated shadows on the ground.
Occasionally, a passing car would rush by with a dull engine sound.
The sound of tires skidding across the pavement briefly tears apart the silence, only to be swallowed again swiftly.
This moment is when the night is at its darkest.
A silhouette, like a ghost in the dark night, silently appears on the roof terrace of this old tubular building.
First, he moves his hands and feet, his joints making a series of subtle but crisp pops.
A few simple stretches, squats, and jumps awaken his body's functions.
Then, he walks over to a fixed thick water pipe by the roof's edge.
The pipe is over two meters tall, and the cold metal emits an eerie chill in the pre-dawn moment.
The figure is bare-chested, wearing only shorts, with a thick leather belt around his waist.
On the outside of the belt, evenly distributed, is a circle of sturdy metal hooks.
Six dark, heavy round barbell plates are securely suspended on it through special steel cables.
Each plate is marked 25kg, totaling one-hundred fifty kilograms of additional weight.
This weight is enough to leave an ordinary strong man breathless.
However, the figure seems to feel no pressure from the heavy weight.
He firmly grasps the cold water pipe with both hands and takes a deep breath.
In the next moment, he exerts force from his waist and abdomen, his arm muscles instantly bulging like twisted tree roots.
His body, together with the astonishing weight, rises and falls steadily and rhythmically.
Once, twice, three times…
His breathing is steady and powerful, his movements standard and smooth, with no hint of struggle or delay.
Upon completing a set of 100 pull-ups, not a drop of sweat emerges on his forehead.
"Hoo…"
Fang Cheng exhales, releasing his grip easily and, using his extraordinary hovering ability, lands his feet steadily on the cement ground.
The entire process is almost soundless, as nimble as a raccoon.
He doesn't want to disturb the sleeping neighbors below in this silence.
After landing smoothly, Fang Cheng removes the weight plates from his waist and neatly arranges them to the side.
Today, he woke up at four in the morning.
The winter gives way to spring, and the earth turns.
The daylight hours lengthen, and dawn arrives earlier and earlier.
To avoid being seen accidentally during his morning practice, Fang Cheng had to further advance his schedule.
Thus, when the outside is still pitch-black and the entire tubular building is enveloped in deep sleep,
he has already quietly dressed and cautiously moved the training equipment prepared the night before to the roof terrace.
During this process, he firmly avoids making any sound that might wake his sleeping mother in the next room.
Easily completes today's first morning workout, the first formal set.
Fang Cheng pauses briefly, then bends over.
With just the index finger of his right hand supporting the weight of his entire body, he begins practicing single-finger push-ups.
The hard cement floor seems to turn into soft mire under his single finger.
Every sinking and rising movement challenges the limits of his finger bones and muscles.
You can even hear the faint "sizz" sound of the friction between fingertips and the ground.
It's a highly concentrated display of inhuman strength.
One set follows another, one exercise follows another.
Fang Cheng tirelessly repeats physical training.
When the final set of weighted deep squats is finished, the sky has already begun to brighten.
The giant black silhouette of the city gradually unveils its clear outline in the emerging light.
Fang Cheng rises to his feet, exhaling a long breath of mist.
The intensity of today's physical training is actually lower compared to the previous days.
In anticipation of the upcoming battle, Fang Cheng plans to devote more energy to honing his combat skills.
Particularly, the breakthrough in his Sanda skill is imminent.
He lifts his eyes to the dim light cast on the concrete water tank.
Then he stands firmly, leaps up as agile as a bird, landing effortlessly on the water tank's top.
Standing on top, Fang Cheng assumes a horse stance, regulates his breathing, letting his body's energy run smoothly, rapidly recovering expended stamina.
After a moment, he slowly draws into a fighting stance.
With shoulders sunk, elbows descended, chest and back poised, eyes fixed straight ahead, his entire aura changes sharply.
The next instant, he moves.
His left foot abruptly steps forward, his right fist shooting straight out like a cannonball, creating a swift punching wind.
Jab!
Simultaneously, his waist and hips exert force, drawing his right fist in a swift arc, aimed at an imagined opponent's ribs.
Swing Punch!
The attack hasn't stopped; his body lowers slightly, and his right leg sweeps out like a steel whip, targeting the opponent's lower half.
Low Whip Kick!
Every move is clean and efficient, like straight out of a Sanda textbook.
Meanwhile, he tries to moderate his strength to avoid producing a frighteningly explosive sound.
Yet, even so, the whooshing sound of his punches and kicks slicing through the air is particularly distinct on the quiet roof terrace.
Fang Cheng stands on this narrow 2-meter diameter patch, performing air attacks.
At times like a tiger descending from the mountain, fierce and unparalleled, with open and expansive punches and kicks.
At times like a nimble monkey playing in water, his movements are light and agile, dodging and maneuvering swiftly.
Straight punches, hook punches, whip kicks, front kicks, grappling throws…
The various classic moves of Sanda are smoothly executed in his hands, connecting naturally without any clumsiness.
His every strike is not just an explosion of muscular force but also a precise control of timing, distance, and angle.
It feels as if an invisible powerful opponent is standing before him, forcing him to execute every attack and defense detail to perfection.
The dawn gradually breaks.
From dim gray, it is slowly tinted with a layer of faint pink, then transforming into a magnificent orange-yellow.
Sunlight, like golden sands, streams through the gaps between the city buildings, gently spilling onto the roof terrace.
Coating the focused and agile figure with a faint halo.
Fang Cheng, illuminated by the morning light, continuously changes his stance, swinging punches and kicks.
Sweat is long drenched his body, glinting faintly, outlining the defined musculature with stark clarity.
Yet he is oblivious, persistently immersed in the practice of Sanda, every cell eager for the release and elevation of power.
Simultaneously, a few prompt messages slowly float across his vision.
[Sanda experience +1]
[Sanda experience +1]
[Sanda experience +1]
......
In the midst of a swift turn and rear swing kick, creating a violent gust and about to conclude—
Buzz!
Without warning, the skill panel before Fang Cheng explodes into a dazzling brilliance like the rising morning sun!
Amidst the radiance, familiar lines of text appear, yet they carry a new, exhilarating significance.
[Congratulations, through extraordinary effort and perseverance, your skill has successfully broken through to the Grandmaster Level]
[Sanda LV3 (0/1000)]
[Skill Enhancement Reward: 12 Free Attributes]
Gazing at the radiant panel, an indescribable thrill and sense of fulfilment rise from Fang Cheng's heart, spreading throughout his entire body.
It feels as if long-held pressure and accumulation are slightly released in this moment.
Fang Cheng can clearly comprehend that both his understanding of Sanda, and his body's application of related techniques, have ascended to a brand new level.
Instinctively clenching his fists, he feels within him a force belonging to the Martial Artist that seems ready to burst forth.
The pupils in Fang Cheng's eyes flicker with a tangible passion and anticipation of battle.