Every day was a race against time with studying and work, so to get to bed earlier, Xia Fu always finished her nightly routine quickly. By the time she was done with her skincare and pacing around, Fang Jingcheng was only just finishing his underarm grooming, rubbing his face as he contemplated shaving.

Still sobering up, Xia Fu clutched her phone in one hand and her sports bottle in the other, sipping lemon water sporadically. She walked with heavy steps, her fair face looking somewhere between awake and groggy. Clad in the expensive outfit Fang Jingcheng had bought, she looked like a prime target, catching the attention of a few private trainers hanging around.

Through a floor-to-ceiling window, a group of trainers eyed Xia Fu and whispered to each other. In their midst sat a tall, striking man with a relaxed expression, seemingly the center of the group. Nearby stood a young woman with messy short hair, quietly wiping the sweat from her face with a look of indifference.

Wearing a fitness tracker, limited-edition sneakers, and branded workout clothes, they quickly estimated Xia Fu’s “net worth.” The man raised his palm to halt his eager colleagues, then picked up a metal comb, slicking back his bangs before confidently approaching his unsuspecting “target.”

“Hey, miss, you look new here. Is this your first time? Want me to show you around?”

He was shorter than Fang Jingcheng, but his bulging muscles blocked the light from Xia Fu’s view. Walking with swagger, his intense mix of hair gel and cologne made her wrinkle her nose.

Both had that sunny look, but the same gesture that came off as charming with Fang Jingcheng now felt more forced and overwhelming.

Up close, his “masculinity” seemed to wrap around Xia Fu’s head like a burlap sack. She held her breath, subtly taking half a step back and replied:

“I’m here with a friend. I thought I’d look around on my own and wait for him to finish.”

The guy just assumed she was shy, his smile still bright and harmless.

“Oh, which area are you meeting in? I can take you there so you don’t get lost. Right now, it’s peak gym hours, so it’s tough finding a seat. Might as well walk and look.”

This gym had two floors, a huge space with glass rooms dividing the path in a complex layout that could easily daze new visitors with all the options.

The private trainer took Xia Fu on a detour past the prime equipment-selling area. He seemed casually chatty but was actually full of sales pitches. “The times are changing; nowadays, girls are breaking free from that ‘pale and thin’ obsession. They’re redefining beauty and health, embracing a Western fitness vibe. Things like a peachy bum and a toned waist are really in!”

“But girls aren’t usually great with equipment like this. They sometimes push too hard, aiming for looks and end up injured. That’s why it’s better to have a guy around for protection. Has your friend worked out much before…?”

His talk of new female beauty standards turned Xia Fu’s head with all his “kid” remarks. Growing weary, she bolted towards the lively sounds of a busier area.

Once out of the glass rooms, the space opened up, the atmosphere shifting. Passionate electronic music filled the air, and powerful floodlights lit the polished floor as fighters clashed on a circular ring.

The quick footwork and skillful dodges left arcs in the air, sweat flying like raindrops. A fierce right hook landed with a loud smack, the sharp sound of gloves striking forearms was intense.

Since she’d entered the gym, Xia Fu had finally found herself watching something with real focus—the most “violent” sport of all.

Her family was in the restaurant business, not bad for profits but involving hard-earned money—early mornings, long prep hours, and the physical toll. In her parents’ eyes, physical labor meant poverty; a successful person should sit in an air-conditioned office, commanding others.

Starving and with back pain, Xia Fu shared this view. Compared to the dopamine rush, repetitive machine workouts felt like voluntary torture on strange, cage-like “instruments.”

But this kind of full-body, combative exercise was different. It was primal, a balance of control over oneself and destruction of the opponent, an experience hard to look away from.

She used to resent her troublemaking younger brother, but after that night, she realized that ferocity could be a way to protect oneself.

Xia Fu couldn’t resist imagining herself in the ring. If she were stronger, tougher—what would happen if she dodged Bao Zhiwei and grabbed back her bag with a single punch to his face?

“How much for one-on-one boxing lessons?”

The private trainer was speechless.

Boxing wasn’t in his repertoire. Watching his near-certain sale slip away, he bit his tongue, pushing back, “This sport’s too intense for a petite girl like you. If you train too hard, your traps will harden, and big muscles don’t look good with dresses. You won’t find a boyfriend easily!”

“Weren’t you just saying girls should aim for health? So, is Western fashion really the standard, or is that just your personal taste?”

Next to the ring, there was a viewing area. Now that she’d reached her intended spot to wait, Xia Fu didn’t hold back. She gave him a cold glare, but before she could finish, a pair of strong arms wrapped over her shoulders, loosely gathering her into a hug.

A warm, friendly voice came from behind her, pleasing to the ear yet laced with an edge Xia Fu couldn’t see.

“Hey, what’re you chatting with my girlfriend about?”

“What was that about not finding a boyfriend? And what isn’t good-looking?”

Repeating the guy’s words with ice in his eyes, Fang Jingcheng glared at the trainer.

Xia Fu’s workout clothes matched Fang Jingcheng’s—although not a trending couple set, they had a carefully coordinated look. One wore a black top with white shorts, the other a white top with black pants. Alone, they were fine, but side by side, they clearly looked like a couple.

Friends? No, that was definitely a boyfriend…

The private trainer steadied himself, reluctantly explaining, “This lady seemed interested in boxing. But this is a dangerous sport for beginners, so as a trainer, I wanted to caution her. Getting injured is no joke.”

Fang Jingcheng tilted his head, “Oh, so you’re an expert?”

The trainer lifted his chin. “Yes, I’m quite experienced.” Building a social media persona as an all-around trainer, he’d learned the basics.

He hadn’t expected to meet someone as tough as Fang Jingcheng today. Fang Jingcheng calmly picked up a pair of black boxing gloves from his bag on the floor, smirking at the man.

“What a coincidence, I’ve been learning too. Seems there’s a match today? How about a quick round?”

His smile held a mischievous edge this time.

Bao Zhiwei’s full-power strike had barely scratched Fang Jingcheng before. Xia Fu didn’t really worry about his strength, but today was different, so she held him back, saying, “Didn’t you drink? I looked it up, alcohol dilates the blood vessels, and intense exercise could lead to high blood pressure or clots. Better not.”

He had spent all that time getting ready just to show off in front of Xia Fu, only to have some loud-mouthed guy steal his moment.

Fang Jingcheng, resolute, with every pore exuding showmanship, said, “It’s fine, I just had half a bottle of fruit wine. It’s been over three hours now, plus I took a nap in the car. I feel fresh. I just want to see if the trainer’s as good as he claims; shouldn’t need much effort.”

A propped-up mass of protein powder wouldn’t take much. At the whistle, Fang Jingcheng dropped his relaxed facade, his jab stopping right at the trainer’s nose, shocking him back a step before he could even get into position.

Watching sweat trickle down the trainer’s temple, Fang Jingcheng sighed, “It’s late, sleepy?”

Gym experience wasn’t about charisma—it was about being a nuisance.

Red-faced, the trainer stammered, “Sorry, just a bit out of it. Thought you were still drunk.”

“Is that so? Want to go again?”

With a polite invitation, Fang Jingcheng unleashed a fierce attack. The guy’s muscles weren’t as tough as his words, and the crowd’s boos came fast as he scrambled in defense.

“Disappointing. At least be better than an amateur if you want to teach my girlfriend.” Watching his opponent retreat, Fang Jingcheng commented regretfully.

Next up was a short-haired woman who passed the trainer without a glance, marching straight to the center and delivering a punch right to Fang Jingcheng’s handsome face.

It was a real punch, and even though he blocked it, his arm trembled from the impact.

Under his stunned gaze, she said coldly, “Off.”

“This round’s my lesson with a student.”

“Go, Sister Na!” her student cheered, laughing as they hopped into the ring.

Sister Na?

There was a “Star Employee” poster nearby, the woman’s photo displayed prominently as “Lin Na,” a retired Sanda athlete.

Seeing the situation, Fang Jingcheng decided not to press further.

A spectator, amused by Fang Jingcheng’s peacocking, called out, “Dude, you’re really letting your girlfriend take up boxing? Aren’t you worried she’ll turn into a tiger and beat you up?”

Fang Jingcheng had gotten the reaction he wanted, so he didn’t mind the jab, smiling as he asked, “Why would she beat me if I don’t have a guilty conscience?” He fanned his neck with his hand, swaying slightly, “Oof, maybe I shouldn’t have exercised. My head’s spinning.”

Xia Fu, startled by his act, rushed to support him, concerned. “Are you okay? I have lemon water here.”

Fang Jingcheng used the chance to hold her arm, countering, “We’re very close. She wouldn’t hit me.”

His joke backfired, and the man rolled his eyes, pretending to gag and turning his head.

After the intense activity, a red flush crept up Fang Jingcheng’s neck to his ears, vivid against his pale skin like a snowfield blooming with pink flowers. Worried he might actually faint, Xia Fu took him to the stretching area to relax his muscles before heading to the private lounge.

Still feeling embarrassed from the onlookers’ jeers, Xia Fu couldn’t get used to public displays of affection. Alone with Fang Jingcheng, she softly explained, “I wouldn’t hit you…I just don’t want to get hit anymore.”

Unlike his flashy self in the ring, Fang Jingcheng was now obedient. “I know.”

He looked at her calmly, his soft breathing reminding Xia Fu of a tired dog resting at its owner’s feet after a run in the park.

After that incident, it was the first time Xia Fu confided in him.

It felt weak, exposing her “real feelings” to comfort her boyfriend. After a pause, she added, “If I get stronger, maybe I can protect you too.” Lin Na’s punch had shown her a glimpse of the potential in a woman’s strength. Even if Fang Jingcheng wasn’t keen, she wanted to try. If it was his money, she figured it was only fair to use him as her reason.

“Really? Then show me that pose, like Popeye.”

Looking at her with his clear blue eyes, he seemed to genuinely believe in her far-fetched promise, smiling innocently as he flexed his arm like a muscleman.

Not sure what he was up to, Xia Fu mimicked the pose, clenching her elbows tightly.

Fang Jingcheng pinched her arm, feeling like he’d grabbed a dollop of soft cream, the faintest layer of “baby muscles” under her skin. He knew her promise was fragile, yet he didn’t laugh at her thoughts. Instead, he leaned his head on her shoulder, sighing.

“Wow, so strong. I’m dizzy. Let me lean on you.”

Why did he love being playful?

To Xia Fu, this six-foot-something guy was huge; the height difference made him seem like a toppling tree she wanted to dodge instinctively.

But she’d just vowed to be strong, and his fluffy head looked irresistibly touchable…

Unable to resist, she finally wrapped her arms around his back, letting him rest on her shoulder. But then he went all in, draping over her bonelessly.

She slipped her fingers into his soft hair, massaging his scalp gently as he hummed low like a purring cat.

“You’re heavy…”

He chuckled against her neck, mumbling, “No way? Looks like you’ve got more training ahead of you.”

“If you want to learn, go for it. Don’t worry about me. I just want you to be happy.”