Start with push-ups to gain experience

Nighttime, Xishan Cuigu Sanatorium.

In the 20-square-meter single dormitory room, the ceiling light casts a yellowish glow.

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

He closed his eyelids slightly, regulated his breathing, and focused his mind on his dantian.

After a moment, he slowly raised his hands.

Push your right palm forward horizontally, exerting force from the heel of your palm, with your five fingers slightly spread.

Push your arm to its maximum extension, flip your wrist so your palm faces down, and press down smoothly.

His left palm followed closely behind, slashing diagonally from his waist, the edge of his palm cutting through the air with a slight whooshing sound.

There are no dazzling routines, only basic movements such as pushing, lifting, chopping, and pressing.

Fang Cheng's breathing was long and deep, and his body stretched out with the force of his palm strike.

Each palm strike appears slow, but the retraction is so fast that the trajectory is almost invisible. The transitions between movements are seamless and fluid.

The true qi in the dantian surges into the arms in rhythm with the breath, rushes along the meridians to the Laogong acupoint in the palm, and then overflows outward through the open pores.

The air in the room started to feel different.

The pages of the two books open on the desk began to rustle, as if someone were flipping through them quickly.

The boiled water in the enamel mug rippled with fine waves, and a small arc even rose slightly in the center of the water.

The blue curtains by the window fluttered gently, swaying in the direction the palm wind was pushing.

Fang Cheng opened his eyes and changed his position.

He stood sideways, his left palm extended forward, while his right palm was drawn back under his ribs.

When inhaling, turn your left palm outwards, palm facing upwards, as if you are lifting an invisible heavy object.

As you exhale, gently chop your right palm out from between your ribs, with the edge of your palm cutting straight forward.

The force generated by this strike was noticeably stronger than before.

The curtains suddenly bulged outwards, the entire piece of fabric stretched taut, as if blown out of the room by a strong wind.

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

The water in the teacup sloshed violently, and a few drops splashed off the rim and landed on the table.

Fang Cheng slowly withdrew his palm, adjusted his breathing, and resumed his stance.

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

Launch, recall, launch again.

His sleeves billowed and fluttered.

Every time the palm touched a spot, a visible ripple would appear in the air, like a wave of heat rising from an asphalt road in the height of summer.

Even his own hair was lifted by the airflow, with stray hairs floating gently on his forehead.

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

His palms are like the hands that stir the water's surface, and every movement draws everything around him to move in rhythm.

This extremely gentle and graceful aura conceals a certain restrained yet powerful strength.

"Knock knock knock".

The door suddenly slammed three times, breaking the silence inside.

Fang Cheng paused, then slowly pressed his hands down, instantly drawing the released energy back into his dantian.

The turned pages fell back to their original positions, the bulging curtains hung down, and the ripples in the teacup subsided.

It was as if that strange scene had never happened.

"Hey Fang, are you asleep yet? I bought some kebabs and beer, wanna come over and grab a bite? And maybe we can chat about what happened today?"

A deliberately hushed voice came from outside the door, yet it was warm and friendly.

It was Lin Yue, who lived next door.

Fang Cheng stood still, replying through the door:
"Brother Lin, I've already showered and am in bed. It's my first day at work, so I'm a bit tired. I have to get up early tomorrow, so let's do it another day."

There was a two-second silence outside the door, then Lin Yue's tone carried a hint of regret:
"Okay, Brother Fang, you should get some rest. I'll bring you breakfast tomorrow morning."

The two exchanged a few polite words, and then their footsteps faded away down the corridor.

Fang Cheng shook his head, a helpless look on his lips.

Since he completed the extremely difficult spinal fracture reduction procedure for Zhao Gang during the day in the intensive care unit for trauma patients, he has been able to do it manually.

Lin Yue's attitude then made a complete 180-degree turn.

He addressed Fang as "Brother Fang" so fluently, completely losing the air of a seasoned veteran he had when they first met that morning.

At noon and in the evening, Lin Yue even paid out of his own pocket to take him to the small restaurant on the second floor of the cafeteria and ordered a few hearty dishes to treat him.

Twice-cooked pork, stir-fried beef with yellow peppers, and sauerkraut fish filled the table, making it feel like a festival.

Offering unsolicited favors always implies a hidden agenda.

Fang Cheng knew very well that Lin Yue was stunned by the medical skills he had displayed. In addition to admiration, he also wanted to get closer to him and learn some skills.

But there's nothing he can teach that.

Ordinary people can't even feel the Qi, let alone cultivate true Qi to the level of external projection, or even use it to such a subtle and refined degree.

A pale blue screen slowly appeared before my eyes, displaying several lines of clear information:
[Palm Technique Experience +5]

【Palm Technique Lv1 (224/250)】

[Tai Chi Experience +4]

Tai Chi Level 2 (75/500)

[Qigong Experience +3]

Qigong lv3 (218/1000)

Looking at the skill experience growth information, Fang Cheng lowered his eyes, raised his right hand, and spread his five fingers.

Under the illumination of the overhead light, a faint golden sheen subtly flowed through the skin texture of my palm.

It's like a thin film of water covering the palm of your hand, flickering with the rhythm of your breath.

The scene of treating Zhao Gang during the day is still vivid in my mind.

He stared at his palm, a wave of emotion washing over him.

The methods of applying internal energy learned from the martial arts research association are truly wondrous.

The moment the true energy touched Zhao Gang's lower back during the day, it transformed into hundreds of fine, thread-like tentacles that penetrated the skin and flesh and seeped into the fascia.

At that moment, his hand was like a high-precision radar.

The pulsating blood vessels, the torn muscle fibers, the bone fragments wedged into the spinal canal—every detail was clearly reflected in my mind as I touched the energy.

It is the same vital energy that fills the meridians.

When facing an enemy, it can transform into a powerful shockwave, shattering rocks dozens of meters away with a single palm strike.

When saving lives, they can soften their sharpness, acting as gently as a spring breeze and rain, nourishing silently.

It can even pull on bones a few millimeters in size to perform surgical-level repairs inside the fragile and complex human body.

Killing or saving lives is just a matter of a single thought, a matter of the flow of energy.

Fang Cheng's eyes darkened slightly as he slowly clenched his fist.

The joints immediately cracked and popped.

He could foresee that as long as he continued to study palm techniques and improve his qigong level and mental attributes, he would be able to achieve great success.

Not only will the destructive power of using internal energy in combat increase exponentially, but this precise control over internal energy will also undergo a qualitative transformation.

At that time, the boundaries between medicine and martial arts may become completely blurred, evolving into a completely new power system...

It can shatter mountains with a single palm strike, and extend lives with a single finger. "Chirp chirp chirp—chirp chirp chirp—"

The chirping of crickets echoed from the camphor tree grove outside the window.

Fang Cheng walked to the window and pushed open half of the glass window.

The night breeze blew into the room, carrying the cool scent of grass and trees, and brushed against his slightly feverish cheeks.

The hospital was completely silent, with several white inpatient buildings standing silently in the dim yellow glow of the streetlights.

Several nurses on night shift walked along the path in the distance, their footsteps rustling.

Fang Cheng rested his arms on the windowsill, pondering his next plan.

I just started working here and haven't gotten to know the surrounding area yet, so I haven't found a suitable place to exercise in the morning.

I'll have to make do in my dorm for the next few days and focus my energy on practicing basic palm techniques and Tai Chi.

Of course, he did not forget his main purpose in choosing to join the special search team and come to this sanatorium.

Every day, wounded soldiers returning from the front lines and special search team officers come here for recuperation.

He could have easily and legally used his position to contact a large number of patients.

Every treatment is an excellent practical exercise.

This method allows you to quickly gain experience and accelerate the leveling up of several medical skills such as bone setting, massage, and acupressure.

Ultimately, these max-level medical skills and Qigong skills will be merged to propel Qigong to continuously break through bottlenecks and reach the pinnacle of martial arts.

Only by achieving this qualitative leap in strength can he seize absolute initiative when facing unimaginably powerful enemies in the future.

Fang Cheng raised his eyes and looked towards the mountain behind the sanatorium in the distance.

The cold light of a few searchlights dotted the mountainside, and one could vaguely see heavily armed guards patrolling their posts, under tight security.

My gaze passed over the back mountain and landed deep in the western mountains.

The outline of the continuous mountain ridges undulated under the night sky, resembling a huge, lurking beast.

Who knows how many unknown things are hidden in those deep mountains and forests?

Fang Cheng suddenly thought of Xu Hao.

This guy was sent by me to carry out an undercover mission, and I don't know what his current situation is.

Have you figured out the background of the village guardian of Guhuai Village? Have you found out where Jiang Chen's true identity is hiding?
To avoid alerting the enemy and having a monster of Jiang Chen's caliber detect the situation beforehand.

Fang Cheng has been restraining himself during this period and has not taken the initiative to contact Xu Hao through the SunHeartNet.

The two had agreed that Xu Hao would only initiate contact once he had obtained accurate information.

The fact that there is no movement at the moment indicates that Xu Hao has not yet been exposed and is most likely still in hiding.

The village of Guhuai is only about ten kilometers away from the sanatorium by mountain road.

In case Xu Haozhen encounters an insurmountable danger or emergency, he can call for help through the mental network and rush over at full speed, which will be more than enough time.

A night breeze swept by, scattering a wisp of cloud on the horizon.

A full moon emerged from behind the clouds, its silvery light pouring down and illuminating the shadows of the trees and rooftops in the courtyard.

Fang Cheng looked up at the full moon.

Tomorrow is the fifteenth day of the lunar calendar.

If Cheng Jiashu's previous deduction was correct, the timeframe is almost here.

On the night of the full moon, yin energy is at its peak, and the greatest variables are encountered.

Most of the secrets hidden in the shadows will come to light tomorrow night.

I need to remind Cheng Jiashu to make all the necessary preparations beforehand, so we don't end up in a panic.

Fang Cheng gazed at the night sky quietly for a while, then closed the window, drew the curtains, and turned to walk towards the bed.

It's already past 10 o'clock; my evening workout is over.

He reached out and turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the entire room into darkness.

Lying on his pillow, he closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and allowed his inner energy to flow slowly through his meridians, entering a meditative state where cultivation and rest went hand in hand.

Outside the window, the chirping of crickets gradually subsided.

The full moon hung high in the sky, its silvery light bathing the entire sanatorium.

Deep in the Western Hills, all was silent.

....................................

The room was pitch black; you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

The wooden bed made an unpleasant creaking sound.

Xu Hao turned over and lay flat on his back on the hard bed.

His eyes were wide open as he stared at the ceiling above him, where most of the plaster had peeled off.

The wind was blowing outside the window, and the old wooden window frame creaked and rattled.

Several withered tree branches cast shadows on the newspaper-covered window, like shriveled claws slowly swaying in the darkness.

The room was filled with a lingering musty smell, mixed with a fishy stench that seemed to emanate from nowhere.

This was Xu Hao's second night in Guhuai Village, and he still couldn't fall asleep.

Despite it being the height of summer, a chill permeated the room, making it impossible to fall asleep peacefully no matter how one lay down.

Since the afternoon of the 13th of the lunar calendar, he has been carrying a canvas bag and swaggering into the village entrance.

This chilling feeling, like thorns in one's back, never stopped.

It was as if there were always eyes watching his every move from behind the earthen walls and on the withered tree branches.

After meeting with Manager Wu, who had recruited him, and hastily signing an employment contract, he was taken directly to this dilapidated brick house and settled in.

The past two days have been quite relaxed; I've just been patrolling the village according to the company's schedule.

However, the entire ancient locust village was eerily quiet.

There was no barking of dogs, no crowing of roosters, and even the cicadas in the trees seemed to have all died.

Occasionally, you can run into a few local villagers in the gray-walled, narrow alleys.

Those people, regardless of age or gender, moved with unusual slowness, their footsteps barely making a sound, as if they were floating on their toes.

What sent a chill down Xu Hao's spine was their faces.

Every villager who passed by would stop, stare at him intently, and then grin.

The smile was extremely stiff, and the upward curve of the corners of the mouth was almost identical.

It's like a mask forcibly slapped onto the face of a crudely made clay doll; the skin and flesh are stretched taut, devoid of any sign of life.

In the entire village, the only beings he could barely be considered "living" and who could communicate with him were Manager Wu, who had recruited him, and another village keeper who had arrived half a month earlier.

Besides them, there were several other village guards who were also responsible for patrolling.

But Xu Hao now seriously doubts whether these guys can even be considered human.

Yesterday evening, while getting food at the canteen, he pretended to lose his balance and deliberately bumped his shoulder into one of the village guards.

The moment they made contact, even through a thin layer of fabric, Xu Hao felt as if he had bumped into a piece of frozen meat that had just been taken out of the freezer.

It was cold and hard.

The person was knocked off balance and staggered, but did not show any anger.

Instead, she slowly turned her head and gave him a strange smile that was exactly the same as the villagers'.

At that moment, Xu Hao's back broke out in a cold sweat, and he almost dropped the metal lunchbox in his hand. He barely managed to hold back from punching that expressionless face.

This isn't someone who came to work as a security guard in the deep mountains and forests.

This was clearly throwing him into a hellish abyss filled with unknown monsters, and forcing him to live with these creatures for three years! (End of Chapter)