Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1615 - 776
Previously on Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups...
Fang Cheng finished drinking water and shook the empty bottle in his hand.
He seemed slightly unsatisfied.
Zhou Xiumei noticed and couldn’t help but smile, her eyebrows forming a graceful arc.
"Here."
She swallowed the water in her mouth and handed Fang Cheng the half-full bottle of mineral water.
Fang Cheng waved his hand:
"No need, I’ve had enough."
"I can’t drink any more either. I’ve already filled my stomach with water, and drinking a few more sips might upset my stomach later."
Zhou Xiumei extended her hand forward insistently, keeping it in mid-air.
Fang Cheng no longer declined and reached out to take it.
Without wiping the bottle mouth, he drank directly from where Zhou Xiumei had.
Watching her boyfriend’s Adam’s apple move up and down, Zhou Xiumei’s eyes brightened.
He didn’t mind at all that she drank from it.
A mixture of shyness and joy appeared on her face, Zhou Xiumei’s fair oval face was sweaty, glowing red like a fever.
Fang Cheng squeezed two empty bottles flat with a "clang" and tossed them into the metal garbage bin by the roadside.
Then he grabbed the sports backpack from the bench and slung it over one shoulder.
"Let’s go, we’ll walk slowly and cool off."
The two walked side by side along the garden path paved with cobblestones towards the hotel.
"Xiumei, your stamina can still improve."
Fang Cheng turned his head, looking at her slightly trembling legs:
"Regular jogging keeps you in shape, promotes health, and as your lung capacity increases, dancing and singing on stage will become much easier."
Zhou Xiumei shook her sore calves and muttered:
"Just practicing dancing every day is tiring enough. When I get back to the dorm, I just want to lie in bed and not move."
"But sweating a bit in the morning does make me feel lighter now. I’ll have to eat an extra fried egg for breakfast later."
Fang Cheng smiled at her words and then asked:
"What’s the schedule for today’s training camp?"
"Vocal practice in the morning, physical practice in the afternoon."
Zhou Xiumei tidied the stray hair beside her temples and said softly:
"In four days, this session will end. I heard the program team is planning a closing performance as a warm-up event before the finals."
"So we’ll be filming a lot of material these days. I guess I’ll have to stay in the rehearsal hall for extra practice tonight."
Fang Cheng slowed his pace and reminded:
"Remember to rest, don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll come pick you up tonight for a late-night snack."
Hearing this, Zhou Xiumei’s eyes curved into a smile, then she intentionally put on a playful angry face:
"Brother Cheng, following you, I feel like I’m about to become a little fatty."
Then her tone shifted:
"Just so you know, I want to eat skewers. If I gain weight on the scale tomorrow, it’s all your fault."
Fang Cheng chuckled helplessly:
"Fine, I’ll take the blame."
The two agreed yesterday to get up early for a morning run and exercise together.
Now with the exercise finished, it’s not yet seven o’clock, still early.
They chatted and walked, moving through the shady paths to the hotel’s first-floor buffet dining room.
The air smelled of fried bacon and hot soy milk.
At this hour, the restaurant had fewer guests.
They enjoyed the peace and chose a window-side table to sit.
Fang Cheng took a large plate of high-protein steak and several meat buns.
Zhou Xiumei was more restrained, opting for some low-fat vegetable salad, chicken breast, and fried eggs.
The two sat opposite each other, discussing training camp anecdotes in a light conversation and finished their simple breakfast.
After the meal, Fang Cheng carried her bag, escorting Zhou Xiumei to the door of her room on the fifth floor.
Watching her open the door and greet her familiar roommates inside.
It was only then that Fang Cheng turned around, heading down the corridor to the elevator, pressing the button for his room’s floor.
The elevator display showed numbers jumping between floors.
With a "ding," the stainless steel door slid open on both sides.
Inside stood four men in black suits.
Fang Cheng glanced at them, stepped in, and turned around to press the button for the top floor marked "69."
The elevator then hummed lightly as it continued upward.
The closed space carried a faint smell of tobacco and the stinging odor of sweat.
The man in the front breathed slightly faster, his gaze unconsciously flicking to the floor display.
The other three also had serious expressions, standing tensely.
Fang Cheng’s eyes caught the metal emblem on their chests.
These were close aides of Shen Wei, the Chairman of East City Association.
For them to look so on edge, clearly there was an urgent matter.
The number jumped to 69.
As soon as the door opened a crack, the four men squeezed out sideways.
Their leather shoes padded over the thick carpet in the corridor, striding swiftly toward the luxurious office at the hallway’s end.
Fang Cheng stepped out of the elevator unhurriedly, his gaze following their figures disappearing around the corner.
His brows furrowed slightly, then he pulled out his room card, swiping it to enter his presidential suite.
Tossing the single-shouldered sports bag onto the leather sofa, Fang Cheng walked to the bar, picked up a clean glass, and filled it halfway with drinking water.
After drinking it in one gulp, he set the glass down and casually pulled a washed red grape from the fruit plate on the bar, tossing it into his mouth.
The fruit was sweet and fresh, slightly acidic, perfectly countering the greasiness of breakfast meat.
Having eaten several, from the sports bag on the sofa came the sound of a ringing phone.
Fang Cheng walked over, unzipped the backpack, and retrieved his phone.
The screen flashed with "Shen Wei’s" name.
Fang Cheng pressed the answer button, putting the phone to his ear:
"Hello, Elder Shen."
"Mr. Fang, I sincerely apologize."
From the other end, Shen Wei’s voice came, slightly raspy and unable to completely conceal his fatigue.
