Ma Donghe’s chatterbox was fully opened, spurred by alcohol, he spoke endlessly:
"Right, using the trendy terms now, this is called... what sports rehabilitation, much more practical than those flashy Western dical thods."
"Think about it, the brothers in the Action Departnt fight and brawl every day, bumps and bruises, muscle and bone damage are commonplace. If I can master authentic bone setting and massage techniques, I can handle ergencies on site and alleviate injuries, that would be really in demand."
"At that point, won’t those captains and officers treat like a treasure?"
Ma Donghe spoke with increasing enthusiasm, as if he had already seen his bright future as the star of the team:
"Ah Cheng, I’m telling you, since the end of last month, I’ve been learning from Master Lin, Huiyi has also taught so real stuff."
"I feel like my bone setting technique now has so semblance, as Master Lin says, I’m at the beginning stage, with another ten days or half a month of practice, I wouldn’t dare compare to you, but I’m sure I’ll graduate successfully."
Fang Cheng listened to Ma Donghe’s self-promotion and smiled softly.
Then he picked up his glass and clinked it against Ma Donghe’s:
"Then I can congratulate you in advance, Mr. Ma."
"Haha, thanks for your good wishes."
Ma Donghe laughed heartily and downed his drink in one gulp.
He smacked his lips, seemingly savoring the bitterness of the beer, but the excitent on his face suddenly dispersed, turning into a sigh.
"Ah, to tell the truth, Ah Cheng,"
Ma Donghe put down his glass, with a hint of envy in his eyes:
"Seeing you set bones for those gangsters today, I learned what true professionalism is, what it ans to have formidable skills."
"I’ve been diligently learning for a month, but probably can’t match your casual pinch. If I had your talent, this exam wouldn’t be a problem at all!"
"Even if I turned in a blank paper for the written test, with this skill alone, the examiners would cry and beg to pass. Getting first place would be a cinch!"
After lanting, he seed to realize his words had slipped, quickly waving his hands to explain:
"I didn’t an it like that, I just... I just think your skills shouldn’t be wasted, they should shine brightly!"
Fang Cheng’s chewing slowed down, as he looked up at him.
His gaze was calm and deep, as if it could see right through soone’s inner thoughts.
"Heh heh."
Faced with this gaze, Ma Donghe felt a bit ill at ease and couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly.
Finally, he raised his hands in surrender, no longer beating around the bush:
"Alright, I’ll lay my cards on the table."
"Actually, it’s my family’s elder’s idea, he wants you to participate in this Special Search Team exam too."
Fang Cheng didn’t speak, just silently picked up another skewer of grilled chicken gizzards, eating slowly, seemingly waiting for him to continue.
Ma Donghe felt a surge of spirit, straightened his back hurriedly, and focused on Fang Cheng, his expression more serious than ever:
"Ah Cheng, I know what you’re worried about, afraid of being mistreated inside, afraid of getting caught up in those ssy factional struggles, more afraid of your skills being exposed and being researched as a freak."
"But, my dad says, you don’t have to apply for the Action Departnt or go to the Intelligence Departnt, you can definitely rely on your extraordinary dical skills and apply directly to the dical Team."
"What’s the dical Team? It belongs to the support departnt, it’s the dream unit of ordinary people, an Immortal’s workplace!"
Ma Donghe leaned forward, lowered his voice, afraid of being overheard:
"Usually you just stay in the rear, treat the injured brothers, and at most, when the battle is over, go to the site to deal with things and bandage those who aren’t completely dead."
"You don’t need to charge into battle, the risk level is much lower than us fighting on the frontline."
"Besides, Elder Shi is the Minister of the support departnt, with him as backing, who dares to give you trouble?"
"You’d be like a master there, just clocking in at work, drinking tea, and reading the newspaper, just enjoying life."
"As for those benefits, cultivation resources, internal information, family protection, you won’t miss out on any of them. Isn’t this better than solo fighting out there?"
Ma Donghe finished his speech in one breath, fixed his gaze on Fang Cheng, waiting for his response.
To be honest, he felt a bit nervous inside.
This painstaking reasoning was his father, Ma Jianguo’s thoughtful teaching over several days at ho, word by word.
The old man truly sees potential in Fang Cheng, believing that such a martial arts genius being buried in the streets is truly a pity.
Also afraid of his solitary nature, having no social circle at all, that one day he’d go astray, take a wrong turn, and commit a heinous cri.
That would be a regret of gigantic proportions.
Therefore, the old man tead up with Shi Chengyi, both pondering together.
Ultimately, they thought up this "curve-saving-country" brilliant thod, letting him enter the system safely as a "technical talent," achieving both goals.
"dical Team?"
Fang Cheng put down the skewer in his hand, wiped his hands with a napkin, seemingly seriously considering:
"Sounds nice, so why don’t you go take the exam directly?"
"?"
Ma Donghe blushed and scratched his head, a bit embarrassed as he said:
"I want to, but that place requires real skills."
"They only recruit bona fide top students from dical school. With my diocre skills, even if I sohow got in, I would just be making up the numbers and wasting resources."
"But you’re different, Ah Cheng!"
Ma Donghe urged again with emphasis:
"Your bone setting and massage techniques, I dare say not a single student in all of East Capital dical College can compare to you."
"For you to take the exam, it would be a piece of cake!"
Fang Cheng looked at his anxious face and smiled noncommittally.
Then he lifted his glass and drank the remaining beer in one gulp, speaking slowly afterward:
"There’s no rush on this; I’ll think about it so more."
Seeing that Fang Cheng didn’t refuse outright, Ma Donghe felt slightly relieved.
He knew there was hope!
As long as Ah Cheng was willing to consider it, judging by the old man’s judgnt, there’s a high chance it will happen.
If the two of them can enter the Special Search Team together, they would look out for each other, and perhaps he could benefit from it too.
Besides, having soone as formidable as Fang Cheng as a colleague would at least provide peace of mind during future missions!
"Good! Good! Take your ti to think, but it’s best to decide by next Monday, or you’ll miss the final registration date."
Ma Donghe was overjoyed, quickly grabbing another plate of skewers and handing it over enthusiastically:
"Co, Brother Cheng, don’t just drink, have so skewers. Today’s on , eat to your fill!"
Fang Cheng smiled blandly and took the plate.
The two continued drinking and eating skewers.
The barbecue stall remained bustling with voices, and the charcoal fire burned brightly.
The dim lights reflected the night of Old Factory Street, full of lively and vibrant atmosphere.
.........
"Click."
With a light sound, the old security door was pushed open and closed casually again.
The room was filled with darkness and silence.
Fang Cheng didn’t turn on the lights.
Having already been accustod to the darkness, light was not a necessity for him.
He changed into slippers at the entrance and walked silently towards the living room.
As he passed through the center of the living room, his steps slightly paused.
Moonlight entered through the uncurtained window, casting a cold silver glow on the floor.
In that silver light, a spiderweb-like fracture was clearly visible.
It was the hole cracked by his foot during a previous confrontation with Ah Le, yet to be repaired.
Fang Cheng’s gaze lingered on the crack for less than a second before moving away.
As if it were just an ordinary pattern on the floor.
He walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.
Cold tap water stread out.
He cupped so water and carefully washed his face and hands, rinsing away the grease and sll of alcohol.
Water droplets slid down his chiseled jaw, tracing a sparkling path in the dim light.
After so basic cleaning, Fang Cheng walked into the bedroom.
His gaze fell on the satchel on the bed, pausing slightly.
After a mont’s thought, he reached over to unzip it, taking out two items and gently placing them on the moonlit desk.
They were two distinctly different masks, one on each side.
One was completely pale, with features twisted in ferocity, and an air of madness and wickedness between the brows—the Evil Ghost Mask.
The other, a bright red background with a black exaggerated smiling face, and a teardrop hanging from the corner of the eye—the comical Clown Mask.
Fang Cheng pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his hands, quietly gazing at the two masks on the table.
Moonlight stread through the window, falling onto the cold surfaces of the masks, reflecting an eerie glow.
His eyes were calm like a deep pool, without ripples, as if simply admiring two ordinary pieces of art.
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