Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1385 - 669

Nighttime, West Mountain Green Valley Sanatorium.

In a twenty-square-meter single dormitory, the ceiling light cast a slightly yellow glow.

Fang Cheng stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, shoulders relaxed, elbows dropped, standing alone in the space between the bed and the desk.

His eyelids slightly lowered, he regulated his breathing, and focused his mind into the Dantian.

After a moment, his hands slowly rose.

The right palm pushed forward evenly, the palm base exerting force, the five fingers slightly spread.

Pushing to the end of the arm’s reach, he flipped his wrist, palm facing down, and followed through with a press.

The left palm followed closely, slashing diagonally from the waist, the edge of the palm cutting through the air, bringing a faint swooshing sound.

No dazzling techniques, just basic moves like push, lift, slash, and press.

Fang Cheng’s breathing was deep and steady, his posture expanding along with the palm’s movements.

Each palm stretch seemed slow, but upon retraction, it was so quick that the trajectory was almost invisible, the transitions between moves seamless, like flowing water.

The True Qi in his Dantian surged into his arms with the breath’s rhythm, rushing through the meridians to the Laogong Acupoint in his palms, then flowed outwards through the opened pores.

The air in the room began to change.

The pages of the two books open on the desk rustled as if someone was flipping through them rapidly.

The white water in the enamel mug rippled densely, even slightly bulging in the center.

The blue curtain by the window started to gently sway towards the direction of the palm wind.

Fang Cheng opened his eyes and changed position.

He stood sideways, left palm reaching forward, right palm held under his ribs.

Inhaling, the left palm flipped outward, palm facing the sky, as if lifting an invisible weight.

Exhaling, the right palm gently slashed out from the ribs, the edge of the palm cutting straight forward.

The Qi Force carried by this slash was noticeably heavier than before.

The curtain suddenly billowed out, the whole cloth stretched straight, as if blown outwards by a strong wind from indoors.

The ballpoint pen on the desk rolled to the edge, hung for a moment, and then fell to the ground with a "plop".

The water surface in the mug shook violently, a few droplets spilled over the rim, landing on the desk.

Fang Cheng slowly retracted his palms, adjusted his breathing, and began anew.

This time, he slowed down, drawing a slow arc in front of him with his palms.

Pushing out, retracting, pushing out again.

His sleeves billowed, making a rustling sound.

Wherever the palms passed, the air rippled visibly, like heat waves rising from asphalt in midsummer.

Even his own hair was lifted by the airflow, the wisps at his forehead floating lightly.

The entire room seemed to turn into a pool of still water.

And his palms were the hands stirring the water’s surface, every motion causing the surroundings to move in rhythm.

This softness to the extreme contained a certain latent, overwhelming strength.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The door unexpectedly echoed three times, breaking the tranquility inside.

Fang Cheng paused, his hands gently pressing down, the external Qi Force instantly withdrawing back into the Dantian.

The flipping pages fell back into place, and the billowing curtain dropped down, while the ripples in the mug returned to calm.

As if the strange scene just now hadn’t happened at all.

"Brother Fang, are you asleep? I got some skewers and beer, care to join? We can chat about today’s events as well?"

A deliberately lowered voice came from outside, tinged with warmth.

It was Lin Yue, who lived next door.

Fang Cheng stood still, declining through the door panel:

"Brother Lin, I’ve washed up and gone to bed. It was my first day at work today, and I’m a bit tired. I have to get up early tomorrow, let’s do it another time."

The outside stayed silent for two seconds, then Lin Yue’s voice carried a hint of regret:

"Alright, Brother Fang, you rest up early. I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow morning."

The two exchanged polite words, then footsteps gradually faded down the corridor.

Fang Cheng shook his head, a wry smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

Ever since the day in the severe trauma ward, when he manually completed the extraordinarily difficult spinal bone fracture realignment for Zhao Gang.

Lin Yue’s attitude took a complete 180-degree turn.

Calling him "Brother Fang" with extreme fluidity, completely absent that seasoned demeanor from their first morning meeting.

At noon and in the evening, Lin Yue went out of his way to invite him to the cafeteria’s second-floor restaurant, ordering several hearty dishes to treat him.

Pork belly, stir-fried beef, fish with pickled vegetables, filled the table like a holiday feast.

Unsolicited kindness often has an underlying motive.

Fang Cheng understood well that Lin Yue was awed by his medical skill, and beyond admiration, wanted to cozy up and learn something.

But he couldn’t teach this.

Ordinary people couldn’t even sense Qi, let alone cultivate True Qi to the point of external manifestation, or use it to such minute precision.

A light blue screen slowly appeared in front of him, clearly displaying several lines of info:

[Palm Technique Experience +5]

[Hand Technique Lv1 (224/250)]

[Tai Chi Boxing Experience +4]

[Taichi lv2 (75/500)]

[Qi Gong Experience +3]

[Qi Gong Level 3 (218/1000)]

Gazing at the skill experience growth information, Fang Cheng lowered his eyes, raising his right hand, spreading his five fingers.

In the reflection of the ceiling light, a faint golden sheen flowed within the skin texture of his palm.

Like a thin membrane covering the palm’s surface, dimming and brightening with his breath’s rhythm.

The scene of saving Zhao Gang during the day vividly replayed in his mind.

He stared at his hand, a wave of sentiment rising in his heart.

The method of Qi Force application learned from the Martial Arts Research Association was indeed miraculous.

At the moment of touching the skin on Zhao Gang’s lower back, the True Qi transformed into countless silk-like tendrils, penetrating flesh, and permeating fascia.