His physiological preference

Yang Zhiyan looked into his eyes.

His eyes showed seriousness and worry.

No, is this the right style? Because she suspected him of domestic violence, he sent her to learn martial arts to prove he wouldn't?

Isn't this just another form of torture? She envied those cool and confident girls, and she wanted to be like them, but she knew she wasn't cut out for it.

She didn't even understand military boxing during her university military training.

The instructor demonstrated it once, and she tried to follow along, but she didn't know which hand to extend or which foot to step with. In the end, the instructor gave up and told her to stand in the last row and just follow along; there was no need for a test.

Now that she's learning martial arts, what kind of boyfriend has she found?

"Can I not study?" she asked. "It's so hard."

Qin Yuzheng looked at her. Her brows were furrowed, her lips were slightly pouting, and she was huddled in the passenger seat like a child who didn't want to go to kindergarten.

His lips twitched, but he managed to suppress a laugh.

"No," Qin Yuzheng said righteously. Yang Zhiyan sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Qin Yuzheng was a regular here. The young woman at the front desk recognized him. When she saw him come in, her eyes lit up, and she called out, "Mr. Qin." But when she saw the girl behind him, her eyes dimmed.

Qin Yuzheng nodded and said he wanted to find Coach Li.

Coach Li is a woman in her early thirties with short hair, wheat-colored skin, and clearly defined muscles in her arms.

She was dressed in a black tracksuit and stood there, exuding an imposing aura.

She smiled when she saw Qin Yuzheng. "Mr. Qin, long time no see. What's this?"

Her gaze fell on Yang Zhiyan.

"My girlfriend," Qin Yuzheng said, "wants to learn some self-defense skills. Can you help her take a look?"

Coach Li looked Yang Zhiyan up and down, his gaze sliding from her shoulders to her waist, and from her waist to her legs.

That gaze wasn't scrutinizing, it was assessing. Yang Zhiyan felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze and moved closer to Qin Yuzheng.

"His physical condition is average," Coach Li said, "but he can train."

She looked at Yang Zhiyan and asked, "Are you afraid of hardship?" Yang Zhiyan wanted to say "yes," but after seeing Qin Yuzheng's expression, she swallowed the word.

The training hall is very large. The first floor is a martial arts training area with green mats on the floor and sandbags and targets hanging on the walls.

Several children were practicing basic skills in a corner, their foreheads covered in sweat, while the coach shouted "Hold on!"

Coach Li led Yang Zhiyan to a corner and had her warm up by jogging, stretching, and moving her joints.

Qin Yuzheng went to the boxing gym upstairs.

Yang Zhiyan studied with Coach Li for more than an hour.

Coach Li taught very seriously, starting with the most basic standing posture: feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, weight centered between the feet, and hands raised to protect the face.

Yang Zhiyan stood there for a few minutes, and then her legs started to shake.

"If you are attacked from the front, what is the most effective way to deal with it?" Coach Li stood opposite her, arms crossed.

Yang Zhiyan thought for a moment. "Run?"

"What if you can't escape?"

Yang Zhiyan couldn't think of anything. Coach Li walked up to her and suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Zhiyan instinctively shrank back, but Coach Li's hand was like a pair of pliers, and she couldn't break free.

"Kick the groin." Coach Li's voice was calm, as if he were stating today's training plan. "Knee, toes, either is fine."

Use all your strength to kick him in the groin. This is the most effective, simplest, and most basic method of self-defense. Got it?

Yang Zhiyan nodded. She remembered it very well. Kick to the groin.

Those three words were etched into her mind. As for the rest—what blocking, what turning, what wrist locking—she didn't remember a single one.

When the training session ended after more than an hour, Yang Zhiyan felt like her legs no longer belonged to her.

She sat on a bench at the entrance of the training hall, bent over, hands on her knees, panting heavily.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, falling onto the floor and leaving a small, dark, damp patch.

Her hands were shaking, her legs were shaking, and she looked as if she had been taken apart and reassembled, with every joint protesting.

Inside the boxing gym, Qin Yuzheng put on his boxing gloves. He stood in the center of the ring, facing the gym's coach, a retired professional boxer in his early thirties, with a muscular physique.

The two people were practicing together; it wasn't a competition, it was just sparring.

Qin Yuzheng played very seriously, releasing all his pressure.

His fists landed on the coach's defensive target, making dull "thump" sounds, one after another, at a fast pace.

His breathing was steady, his steps were steady, and his fists were steady.

Mu Cheng leaned against the ropes of the boxing ring, holding a bottle of water in his hand, and watched for a while.

"Did you take the wrong medicine today?" Qin Yuzheng ignored him and unleashed another series of punches, each one hitting its mark, his voice muffled and heavy.

Mu Cheng watched him finish the set, and when he stopped to wipe his sweat, he spoke.

"Are you taking out your unsatisfied desires on us?"

Qin Yuzheng draped a towel around his neck and looked at him. "Come up here, let's have another match."

Mu Cheng raised the water bottle in his hand, making a gesture of surrender.

"You've never been satisfied, you're so resentful, I'm not going to do it."

Mu Cheng teased loudly, his laughter echoing in the boxing gym, "Ah Zheng, you're no good, you haven't had any meat in so long."

They knew he was sexually frustrated, yet they still dared to tease him.

Qin Yuzheng threw the towel aside and walked towards Mu Cheng. Mu Cheng turned and ran, but the boxing ring was only so big; where could he run to?

Qin Yuzheng caught up with him and punched him in the shoulder. The force wasn't strong, but it hurt.

Mu Cheng clutched his shoulder, wincing in pain. "You really want to hit me?" Qin Yuzheng punched him on his other shoulder, a little harder than the first time.

Mu Cheng bent over and dodged to the side, shouting "Murder!" as he did so. Qin Yuzheng didn't chase after him anymore. He stood in the center of the boxing ring, took off his gloves, and threw them on the table.

An hour and a half later, the group took a shower and gathered at the entrance of the training hall.

Mu Cheng changed into clean clothes, but there was a bruise on the corner of his mouth, which looked purplish-red under the light.

He walked up to Yang Zhiyan.

"Sister-in-law, you should do something about Zheng. Look what he did to me."

His tone was exaggerated, aggrieved, like a bullied child going home to complain.

He pointed to the bruise on the corner of his mouth and said, "Look at this, look at this! Your boyfriend did this. You have to stand up for me!"

Standing to the side, Qin Yuzheng heard Mu Cheng say these words and his desire to kill Mu Cheng reached its peak.

He hadn't expected Mu Cheng to pull this stunt. "Snitching bastard," he cursed inwardly. "It's over. The charges of brutality and ruthlessness are even more indelible."

Yang Zhiyan glanced at the bruise on Mu Cheng's lip, then at Qin Yuzheng.

She remembered a meme she'd seen online, so she added a line.

"If you hit him, you can't hit me, okay?"

Qin Yuzheng paused for a moment, then walked over, took Yang Zhiyan's hand, and headed towards the parking lot.

He walked very fast, so fast that Yang Zhiyan almost had to jog to keep up.

Mu Cheng stood there, watching the two figures from behind.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say, "Where are you two going?", but seeing Qin Yuzheng open the car door, he swallowed his words.

He glanced at the people next to him, and they were looking at him too.

The group exchanged glances, a single thought simultaneously forming in their minds: these two wouldn't be staying in the car...

Qin Yuzheng opened the back door and let Yang Zhiyan get in, then got into the car from the other side himself.

The door closed. The windows were tinted, so you couldn't see inside from the outside.

Mu Cheng stood in the parking lot, looking at the back seat of the black Audi, and felt his mouth hurt even more.