Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1511 - 726:

But looking at the familiar street scene, the rhythm of life quickly slipped back onto its old track.

Next, besides family matters and the Illuminati’s trivial business, there were many important plans he needed to push forward and carry out one by one.

For example, the construction of the secret base in Ancient Locust Village, and the spatial rift verification Cheng Jiashu had mentioned—both were already on the schedule, and the pace had to be sped up so they could re‑enter that post‑apocalyptic wasteland world.

For example, responding to the Sea Queen’s summons, crossing the Light Gate at the bottom of the trench with the Silver Key, going to that mysterious Otherworld to seek out the so‑called source of Strength.

So many tangled threads, not allowing the slightest slackening.

Fang Cheng gathered up his scattered mood, letting his gaze refocus on the road ahead.

He steadied the steering wheel with both hands, tapped the accelerator lightly, and the Land Rover threaded through the traffic and smoothly picked up speed, heading toward Jiangbei.

Half an hour later, the Land Rover turned into the crowded Old Factory Street and pulled over by the curb, where every spot was crammed with electric scooters.

Fang Cheng got out, walked around to the back and took out the luggage.

The three of them stepped into the dimly lit tubular building and climbed upward floor by floor along the concrete stairwell, whose walls had just been given a fresh coat of paint.

As they walked, Zhou Xiumei paused slightly and turned her head to look at Fang Cheng:

"Brother Cheng, your apartment is still being redone, no one can live in it yet. Where are you planning to stay tonight?"

"Or... you could just sleep at my place. I’ll tidy up my room for you, and I can sleep on the couch in the living room."

Fang Cheng shook his head with a smile:

"No need to trouble yourself. I called my mom on the way just now—she bought a bunch of groceries and said she’s making a welcome‑home dinner for me tonight. I’ll go up and check on the progress here, then head straight out to Wanghu Town later and stay there."

Zhou Xiumei pressed her lips together and answered softly:

"All right then. Auntie must really miss you too. Drive slow on the way."

The three of them climbed all the way up to the ninth floor.

Zhou Xiumei walked up to her own door and took out her key to open it.

As soon as the door was pushed open a crack, Aunt He’s full‑throated complaining came from inside:

"You damn girl, finally decided to come back? Your grandma’s been sick these days, it’s just me at home running around, nobody even washing the pots and pans, and you’re out there hiding and enjoying yourself..."

Zhou Xiumei flashed Fang Cheng an apologetic smile, dragged her suitcase into the room, and firmly shut the door.

Fang Cheng held Wen Xin’s hand and continued down the long corridor.

Just as they were about to reach his door, Wen Xin suddenly stopped.

She let go of Fang Cheng’s hand, unzipped the backpack she always carried, and lowered her head, rummaging around inside for a while.

A moment later, she pulled out a handmade keychain strung with five colorful shells and held it out to Fang Cheng.

The shells had been polished very smooth; in the corridor’s dim light they glimmered faintly, looking extremely delicate.

A little surprised, Fang Cheng reached out to take it.

"I secretly bought this at the market on Yong’an Island."

Wen Xin tipped her head back, her big eyes blinking:

"You took me out to play, you treat me so well, so I thought I should give you a present to thank you."

Fang Cheng pinched the shells that still held a trace of warmth and asked in a low voice:

"Did this cost you a lot?"

"Not much. I used this semester’s scholarship."

Wen Xin, a little self‑conscious, twisted the corner of her shirt and explained: "It’s just something small, not expensive. I hope you won’t dislike it."

"How could I? It’s very pretty. I really like it."

Fang Cheng smiled and casually clipped the keychain onto his car key, shaking it twice, making it ring with a crisp clinking sound.

Seeing Fang Cheng accept it, Wen Xin instantly brightened up.

She was just about to turn away when something suddenly came to her, and she tilted her face up to ask:

"Brother, that Lucky Star Card I gave you before, are you still keeping it?"

Fang Cheng patted the back pocket of his pants: "It’s always in my wallet. I keep it on me."

At those words, the smile on the little girl’s face burst open at once, like a small sunflower catching the sun.

"Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Brother!"

She waved happily, turned around, and skipped off toward her own front door.

Fang Cheng stayed where he was, fingers rubbing the car key with its newly added colorful shells.

Watching Wen Xin quickly slip into her home and the security door click shut, he finally drew his gaze back.

Then he turned around and walked into his own apartment, which was in the middle of construction.

The soles of his shoes crunched on scattered bits of plaster, making a fine rustling sound.

A strong mixed smell rushed up to meet him: the earthy tang of cement, the dryness of putty powder, and the scorched odor left behind by metal cutting.

In the spacious flat, all the original non‑load‑bearing walls had long since been knocked down clean, the layout planned anew.

The four‑o’clock sunlight slanted in unhindered through the huge floor‑to‑ceiling window opening, lighting up every speck of swirling dust in the air.

His mom, Li Biyun, wasn’t on site today.

Once she heard on the phone that afternoon that her son was back in the East Capital, she’d dropped her Supervisor work without a second thought and rushed back to the old house in Wanghu Town.

She said she was going to the market to pick out the fattest chickens and ducks and properly put together a welcome‑home feast.

Inside the apartment, a few bricklayers were squatting in the corners, deftly skimming the walls with their trowels.

Manager Wu, wearing a yellow hard hat, was holding a laser level along the wall, marking lines and measuring elevations.

Catching the shape of someone coming in from the corner of his eye, he quickly shut off the device, slapped the dust from his thigh, and jogged over.

"Well, well, boss, back from your vacation?"

Manager Wu’s smile folded his whole face into creases as he casually fished a pack of cigarettes from his workwear pocket, shook one out, and held it toward him.

Fang Cheng waved his hand, turning down the offered cigarette.

He lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the neatly laid central‑air‑conditioning ducts overhead and the dense runs of smart wiring, and asked offhandedly:

"How’s the progress?"

"Don’t worry, everyone’s in good form."

Following Fang Cheng’s line of sight upward, Manager Wu pointed and explained:

"We finished threading all the concealed wiring for the whole‑house smart system yesterday. Today we’re doing floor leveling and the second coat of flexible waterproofing. Once these layers of putty on the walls are fully skimmed and sanded, the hard‑finish work will basically be wrapped up."

Fang Cheng nodded and, guided by him, strolled a circuit around the apartment.

The once‑rough red‑brick walls had already been smoothed with gray‑white putty; the cement floor underfoot had been re‑poured and compacted. The whole space looked more open and airy than right after demolition.

Judging by the current pace of construction, he estimated that by early next month the basic hard finishing of the whole flat would be fully done.

By then, they could directly schedule the manufacturer to come in and lay the solid wood flooring, then truck in the full set of high‑end furniture and imported appliances he’d already ordered to fill out the space.

As quitting time approached, the noise of drills and cutters gradually died away completely.

The workers began packing up their tools, washing their trowels by the buckets, calling to each other as they got ready to knock off.

Fang Cheng walked up to the wide window opening, rested both hands on the rough cement sill, and quietly watched the crowded, noisy Old Factory Street below.

Standing in this still‑unfinished bare apartment, the image of his future home already took shape clearly in his mind.

No matter how many hidden currents and lethal dangers the world outside might hold, this would be the harbor that sheltered him from the wind and rain and gave his heart a place to rest.

Just as Fang Cheng was gazing at the city as it slowly sank into darkness—

On the other side of the East Capital, in the central business district, atop a four‑hundred‑meter‑high skyscraper, someone else was likewise looking down at this vast, whirring jungle of steel.

The last glow of the setting sun slowly sank below the skyline.

Down on the streets, tens of thousands of neon signs lit up one after another, their intertwined halos painting the sky in dark reds and deep greens.

Hundreds of meters up, the gale, freed from the buffer of the buildings, howled as it slammed again and again into the wire mesh along the Roof Terrace’s edge, tearing out sharp shrieks.

On the outer edge of the tower’s windbreak guardrail, a slim figure crouched.

The force of the wind at this height was enough to fling an ordinary person away in an instant, yet this person stood there with only the balls of his feet planted on a round steel tube barely two fingers wide.

As the gale whipped past, his body didn’t shift at all; his soles seemed to have sprouted roots, nailed into the half‑suspended void.