enjoyebooks Chapter 53 is practically possessed by a devilish drill instructor.
Chapter 53 is practically possessed by a devilish drill instructor.
Upon seeing Shen Li, Xiong Rui grinned, revealing a set of bright white teeth: "Li'er! You're here! Not bad, not bad, you're on time the next day, you have potential!"
Shen Li dragged her battered body over, feeling like a broken-down tractor that was about to fall apart had somehow made its way onto the F1 track.
"Brother Xiong, could we... be a little gentler today?" he asked tentatively, his smile more like a grimace.
"Gentle?" Xiong Rui looked confused, as if he had heard some alien word. "Martial artists don't care about gentleness. They care about... action!"
Before he could finish speaking, a hand slapped Shen Li on the back, almost knocking him to the ground.
Morning exercises begin. A 5-kilometer warm-up run.
Shen Li followed at the back of the group, her legs feeling like they were made of lead, each step a desperate struggle against gravity.
By the third lap, he had gone from "running" to "bounce," from "bounce" to "shuffle," and from "shuffle" to "wriggle."
A figure floated past them.
Her high ponytail swung back and forth, and her tight sports vest hugged her full, rounded curves, bouncing up and down with her steps, making people dizzy.
The yoga pants accentuated her round, firm buttocks, and her long, powerful thighs had muscle lines as smooth as a cheetah's hind legs.
Fang Ying glanced back at Shen Li, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. Sweat trickled down her collarbone, dripping into the deep cleavage of her sports vest, glistening in the morning light.
"How's it going, newbie?" She slowed her pace and ran alongside Shen Li. Her voice was hoarse from exercise, languid yet alluring.
Shen Li was so out of breath that she couldn't speak, and could only wave her hand.
Fang Ying didn't leave either, and just stayed with him, "wriggling".
The running posture was as light as walking on clouds, while Shen Li felt that every step she took was on a board of nails.
The sight of the two running side by side resembled an elegant cheetah accompanying a lame sloth.
"Your stamina is really terrible," Fang Ying commented mercilessly. "You're out of breath after running five kilometers. What are you going to do if you have to do action scenes? When you're being chased, are you planning to lie on the ground and pretend to be dead?"
Shen Li gritted her teeth and squeezed out a few words: "I...I'm...good at acting..."
Fang Ying burst out laughing. Her laughter caused her to tremble violently, and the full curves of her breasts, encased in her sports vest, bounced wildly, almost causing Shen Li to lose her footing.
"What's the use of good acting skills if you can't keep up physically? If the director makes you do ten takes and you collapse on the third, who's going to use you?"
Fang Ying's smile faded, and she said seriously,
"The martial arts practitioners under my senior brother Wu Yue, aren't they all trained like animals? Do you think they rely on fancy moves? They rely on real skills and tough bodies."
Shen Li stopped talking, gritted her teeth, and took even bigger steps.
Fang Ying glanced at him, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes, but she stopped mocking him and silently ran away.
The five-kilometer run was over. Shen Li collapsed on the grass, panting heavily like a fish that had been pulled ashore.
Sweat soaked his T-shirt so much it could be wrung out, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and he looked as disheveled as a stray dog just pulled out of the water.
Fang Ying came over again, stood beside him, and looked down at him.
From this angle, you can see a glimpse of her toned waist peeking out from under her sports vest; her abs are clearly visible, and her waist dimples are so deep they could hold a spoonful of water.
The yoga pants encased her legs, which were straight and long with smooth and beautiful muscle lines. Her round and perky buttocks exuded a powerful aura in the morning light.
"Not bad." Fang Ying said, then reached out and pulled Shen Li up from the ground.
The grip was like a pair of pliers; Shen Li felt like her arm was about to dislocate.
"Next is the core strength. Follow me."
Fang Ying took on the role of Shen Li's "personal coach" this time.
Plank, sit-ups, push-ups, Russian twists... After completing a set, Shen Li felt her abdominal muscles were sending out an SOS distress signal.
But Fang Ying didn't give him a chance to catch his breath.
Whenever he was about to give up, Fang Ying would squat beside him, staring at him with her cold, beautiful eyes. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was incredibly intimidating.
"Don't stop. If you stop, all that training will be for nothing. Muscles need to be torn to grow. If you give up now, all that pain you endured will have been for nothing."
When she squatted down, the neckline of her sports vest drooped naturally, exposing the magnificent view to Shen Li without reservation.
Two full, round, snow-white mounds pressed together, rising and falling gently with each breath, sweat sliding down the cleavage and soaking the edges of the vest.
Shen Li quickly looked away, staring at the grass in front of her, gritting her teeth, and managed to hold on for another ten seconds.
Fang Ying's lips curled slightly: "Not bad. You've improved."
Finally, there was flexibility training. Fang Ying had Shen Li do leg presses, hip opening exercises, and stretching. Shen Li's flexibility was worse than expected; she couldn't even lift her legs to 90 degrees before wincing in pain.
Without a word, Fang Ying got to work. She stood behind Shen Li, placed her hands on his back, and slowly pressed down. The force was neither too light nor too heavy, but firm and unyielding.
"Relax. Don't tense up. The more you tense up, the more it will hurt." Fang Ying's voice was right next to my ear, carrying the warmth unique to exercise.
Even worse, because she was leaning forward, the neckline of her sports vest was almost touching the back of Shen Li's head.
The scent, a mixture of sweat and shower gel, wafted over me, warm and slightly sweet.
Shen Li felt her blood pressure spike.
He stared at the floor and silently recited "If the heart is pure, the sky will not fall," trying to suppress the restless energy.
"Don't hold your breath. Breathe." Fang Ying pressed her hand down a little more. "Keep your legs straight and point your toes."
Shen Li was in so much pain that tears were almost coming out, but she stubbornly endured it without uttering a sound.
"Alright." Fang Ying finally let go.
Shen Li collapsed to the ground, feeling as if her legs no longer belonged to her.
Fang Ying stood up and clapped her hands. Sweat dampened the stray hairs on her forehead, sticking to her smooth brow.
The tight-fitting sports vest, soaked with sweat, became semi-transparent, clinging tightly to the body and outlining a full, rounded curve.
She picked up a towel and wiped her neck, her movements casual yet exuding a languid sexiness.
"We'll continue tomorrow." Fang Ying said this and walked away, tossing her high ponytail.
Her round, peach-shaped buttocks, encased in yoga pants, swayed gracefully in the morning light, her long legs taking alternating steps, light yet powerful.
Shen Li lay on the grass, watching the departing figure, feeling like a sugarcane that had been squeezed dry, with not even a scrap left.
Xiong Rui walked over, squatted down next to him, and handed him a bottle of water: "How about it? My junior sister, pretty good, huh?"
"It's more than just intense..." Shen Li said weakly, "It's like a devilish drill instructor possessed."
"Hahaha!" Xiong Rui laughed. "She's actually being gentle with you. Last time, a junior brother was slacking off, and she kicked him from one end of the playground to the other, making him cry for his parents."
Shen Li imagined the scene and shuddered.