Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1180 - 573:

As the night grew darker, Old Factory Street burst into its liveliest phase of the day.

The gentle breeze of early summer carried a touch of warmth, and the roadside barbecue spots buzzed with eager patrons.

Folding tables set simply along the pavement were nearly all taken.

The sharp scent of cumin and chili blended with the charred aroma from the grills, drifting freely in the breeze.

At a close-by eatery, clams sizzled in hot oil within an iron wok, and the steaming vapors quickly stirred everyone's hunger.

Shouts from guessing games, the tinkling of clashing beer bottles, along with casual talks and occasional swears from everywhere, wove into the special melody of this avenue.

But at a corner table in the barbecue area, the vibe felt somewhat out of place.

A heap of dishes towered on the surface—hot lamb sticks, juicy grilled chicken wings with a crisp bite, and flavorful salted shrimp.

Clusters of chilled beer bottles sat packed beside them, occupying most of the space.

Ma Donghe sat without a shirt, showing off the bold dragon ink sprawling over his shoulders.

He snatched a bunch of lamb skewers, using his left hand to slip three off into his mouth, while his right already guided another to his lips.

His face bulged like a rodent's, and with strong chomps, it looked as if he were devouring not food but a hunted beast.

Across from him, Fang Cheng ate without roughness, instead displaying an odd accuracy and quickness.

From grabbing a skewer to chewing it and removing the stick neatly, the entire motion ran seamlessly, in under a second.

Bamboo sticks stacked by his chair on the table outnumbered Ma Donghe's by more than double.

One resembled a massive bear, feasting with wild intensity.

Yet the slim, good-looking youth facing him gobbled up food at a pace that outdid even the beast.

The bold manner of these two quickly caught the attention of surrounding eaters.

Some youthful troublemakers at a neighboring table chuckled and gestured toward Fang Cheng's spot, whispering rudely.

But a casual glare from Ma Donghe made them leap in surprise.

Combined with the scary dragon head mark on his torso, he looked every bit the intimidating gang leader.

The group stopped staring and meekly dropped their gazes, turning back to their own sticks.

Once the final chicken wing skewer vanished from the dish, the surface was littered with remnants, and Ma Donghe at last paused.

He seized a glass of frosty draft beer, threw his head back, and chugged half, feeling the chill rush down his gullet to his belly, then let out a satisfied belch.

"Ha—Ah, refreshing!"

Ma Donghe set the glass aside, rubbing his lips with his hand's back.

Next, he eyed Fang Cheng, who continued tackling a serving of roasted oysters, and abruptly questioned:

"Ah Cheng, don’t you wonder why I abruptly went to Master Lin, begging to study medicine?"

Fang Cheng neared his mouth with a fat roasted oyster; at these words, he hesitated briefly.

He popped the oyster in, relishing the blend of garlic and fresh sweetness, gulped it down leisurely, then raised his gaze.

Only then did it hit him.

Ma Donghe mentioned his father had a key matter to talk about, pulling him here for this late-night bite.

Too caught up in the delicious feast, he almost overlooked the real purpose.

"Oh?"

Fang Cheng reached for a chicken wing skewer casually, bit into it, and mumbled back:

"Wasn’t it for bonus marks in the Special Search Team test?"

"That’s right."

Ma Donghe agreed with a nod, flung the skewer down, and swigged more beer:

"Gaining points is part of it, but mostly, I’m backed into a wall!"

After draining the beer, he pulled his chair nearer, starting to vent his troubles:

"Ah Cheng, to be straight with you, the Special Search Team’s spring re-exam is coming up next week, on June 3rd, with interview, written exam, and fitness check."

"The fitness check, that’s no issue for me."

Ma Donghe thumped his solidifying pecs, declaring assuredly:

"Thanks to my top first-round results, I can bypass the re-exam and get direct entry."

Fang Cheng shot him a look.

Sure enough, though he still had that bearish build, his energy and presence had shifted entirely from earlier.

His build had bulked up considerably, biceps swelling prominently, hard as metal blocks.

The intimidating vibe around him had grown stronger, merely sitting still enough to hush nearby voices.

Evidently, steady daily training had sparked this transformation in his bearing.

"For the interview, it’s mostly procedural, hinging on chance."

Ma Donghe grinned, lifted a hand to his cheek:

"My looks are a touch rugged, but they carry weight and fit for authority roles."

After a bit of self-praise, his voice shifted, concern etching his expression:

"The tough part is the written exam, covering laws, native tongue, other languages, mind studies... the list alone makes my head spin."

"Thus, my dad feared I’d flop there, so he pushed me to pick up medical know-how for an edge."

As he spoke, he clutched a kidney skewer, chomped hard, and grumbled while munching:

"At first, the old man urged me to learn the Ma family’s handed-down Qigong massage under him, but forget it, his basic moves can’t match Master Lin’s amazing youth-restoring treatments."

"Things like massage, fixing bones, pressing points to halt blood loss—these are true arts, ancient knowledge from forebears spanning millennia, healing injuries while balancing channels and circulation."