39. A Peculiar Method of Training

Chen Sheng was instantly wide awake.

Because that meant there was someone in the bed.

He turned his head stiffly, and in the dim darkness, he could make out the outline of a person lying beside him.

“……”

Stunned, Chen Sheng was also filled with confusion. If Yu Youxin, that little girl, was sleeping in the bedroom, then who had been lying on the sofa just now, stealing his blanket?

Caught between shock and suspicion, he suddenly saw a hand reach out toward him. It was a small hand, not large by any means, and even in the gloom, he could tell at a glance whose it was.

Not to mention it was accompanied by a faint, fresh fragrance.

The little hand, as if by accident, patted his cheek twice, and then, quite suddenly, two fingers poked straight into his nostrils.

Chen Sheng: “……”

Snap!

With a soft sound, the light in the room flicked on.

“Old Chen, why were you letting your nose fight with my hand?” a drowsy-eyed girl yawned and asked, her words slurred by sleep.

Chen Sheng: “……”

Did you get the order of cause and effect wrong? And what does it mean for a nose and a hand to fight?

But this wasn’t the time for quips. Seeing the girl half asleep, Chen Sheng didn’t hesitate. He leapt up, dashed out at lightning speed, turned off the light, and shut the door in one swift motion.

The whole process was fluid, leaving not even a blur behind.

Chen Sheng moved even faster than before, but he didn’t notice it at all—after all, he felt like a thief caught in the act.

Although it wasn’t intentional, there was no way to explain how he’d ended up, in the middle of the night, inexplicably climbing into a girl’s bed.

Now, his own bedroom was utterly dark.

Suddenly, two faint points of green light appeared—reflections from a pair of eyes.

“Hmph, trying to trick me into sleeping on the floor? Old Chen, you really do have some nerve!”

“Just wait, I’ll scare you out of your wits!”

In the darkness, a certain girl puffed out her cheeks, muttering under her breath.

Naturally, it was she who had appeared on the sofa and swiped Chen Sheng’s blanket.

...

Chen Sheng, now sitting on the sofa, breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness he’d run fast!

“But why did it feel like that girl really did steal my blanket just now?” Chen Sheng glanced at the sofa, bewildered.

There was no mistaking that familiar scent.

But Yu Youxin had clearly been sleeping in his bedroom the whole time! Having just crawled out of her bed, Chen Sheng was certain of it—the warmth under the covers didn’t lie.

“Could it be that I’ve been single for so long that, after being alone with a pretty girl, my imagination just ran wild?”

With that thought, Chen Sheng meticulously examined the sofa.

But he found only the traces left by a single sleeper, which made his head throb.

Because that meant his wild guess was probably right!

Holding his head in his hands, he was just glad no one knew, or else he’d have died of embarrassment.

He glanced out the window with some relief. It was still dark; the streetlights were on, but the little breakfast shop he frequented had already lit up, which meant dawn wasn’t far off. Chen Sheng immediately gave up on the idea of going back to sleep.

“If I sleep again, I’ll probably be late for work. Besides, I’ve almost finished adjusting—I should start practicing…”

Suddenly, his expression brightened with a hint of excitement, though it quickly faded, leaving no trace in his eyes.

He closed his eyes, recalling the next sequence of the exercise routine he’d memorized.

The follow-up wasn’t complicated—in fact, broken down, there were only a dozen or so moves, all easy to remember.

But easy to remember didn’t mean easy to master.

It was only after Chen Sheng managed to master that strange exercise routine that he realized how it ought to be practiced.

It required maintaining a state of natural, effortless mind—a state where one could not deliberately or consciously try to practice! Yet, as soon as you performed the movements, you were, by definition, practicing deliberately.

This was why, back in his adolescent years, he’d never been able to master this odd exercise—the whole time, he was trying too hard, intent on achieving success.

Later, during his medical studies and the postgraduate exams, he practiced it as a convenient excuse, nothing more.

He was lackadaisical at best, only going through the motions when others asked, “Chen, why aren’t you practicing that family martial art of yours?”

At that time, he claimed it was a family tradition.

After all, if you’re going to use something as an excuse, it better sound plausible and not arouse suspicion!

...

In that state, Chen Sheng was indeed practicing, but not proactively or deliberately.

Earlier, he hadn’t been practicing—he’d just been adjusting his mental state.

Though he wasn’t yet in what he considered his best condition, it didn’t matter; he could still practice for a bit. Whether he succeeded or not, he’d have to go to work soon anyway, so he might as well while away the time.

He’d always called this set of exercises “strange,” and for good reason: the movements were peculiar and utterly at odds with each other.

Normal boxing or martial arts, even sword and knife routines, all possessed a clear purpose—to strike one’s opponent.

But this strange routine seemed designed to make life difficult for oneself.

After a full set, he was left with an indescribable discomfort.

“Hoo—”

Exhaling, Chen Sheng finished the last move, grimacing. The discomfort this time was even more pronounced than before.

“Didn’t manage it…”

Though it wasn’t exactly what he’d expected, Chen Sheng wasn’t the least bit surprised.

This odd exercise was notoriously difficult to master.

Of course, even if he did manage to learn the latter part of the routine, all he intended was to see whether it could become a personal skill in that healing game.

In reality, Chen Sheng had no intention of showing off.

He was no longer the youth he once was—he couldn’t care less about standing out. Drawing attention always brought needless trouble.

“Besides, my medical skills might also become a game-exclusive ability, though I’m hopeless at diagnosis anyway…”

After mulling it over for a while, Chen Sheng could only shake his head.

By then, seeing that it was almost time, he went downstairs to buy breakfast. He left a portion for the sluggard still sleeping upstairs, then drove off to work.

For ordinary people, life revolves around that single word: work.

You’re either at work or on your way there.

Because only by working can you survive.

Chen Sheng’s car merged into the morning traffic and quickly disappeared from view.

He was just an inconspicuous, ordinary man.

That, at least, was how Chen Sheng saw himself.