The Charming Demon Man

The plan was set. The next step was the tedious, mind-numbing execution.

The daily schedule was practically identical, the meals were repetitive, and the strength training in the gym involved gritting teeth and putting on a mask of pain.

July 8th.

Bu Liuxing's fitness coach, biting the bullet, returned to the mansion to help Mr. Jiang Xueming complete his body data measurements.

This fitness coach was no joke. He was a regular at the IFBB World Amateur Bodybuilding Championships, someone who had even trained alongside the Governor. He held two nutritionist certifications for different standards and competition formats. He could not only tell students how to train but also create nutritional meal plans based on their physique.

Unexpectedly, this coach wasn't as demanding as the previous two professional instructors.

He didn't need direct physical contact with Mr. Xue Ming. Most of the time, he just guided the student on how to protect himself while using equipment and during strength training.

The entire process was relaxed and pleasant, all done with verbal instruction.

However, what surprised the coach was how astonishing Jiang Xueming's learning ability was.

It wasn't about communication issues; that was just the basic stuff.

--It was about the terrifying comprehensive ability this young man displayed in understanding, analyzing, and learning during training.

To elaborate, we need to start from the moment they entered the gym.

When Coach Zhou and Jiang Xueming began the physical tests, Coach Zhou could already feel that the entire procedure was exceptionally smooth.

Taking off clothes and changing into quick-drying sportswear.

The first measurements: body water weight, body fat, height, heart rate, and blood pressure.

There wasn't a single idle word during the entire process.

As Mr. Xue Ming lay on the body fat testing machine with twenty electrodes, Coach Zhou was preparing to carefully remind the student to place his limbs on the corresponding electrode positions.

The coach merely moved his lips and nudged a hand and a leg.

But Jiang Xueming's body moved like a complex gear, slowly adjusting on the machine. He stopped when he heard the prompt sound indicating the electrodes were properly connected, and his body slowly returned to its original position.

It had to be said, the feeling was incredibly bizarre, yet satisfying, like popping bubble wrap. It was the kind of satisfaction that OCD sufferers get when a steel ball drops perfectly into a hole of the same size, fitting in with the other steel balls to form a perfect circle.

In the past, Coach Zhou had never experienced such satisfaction when charging newcomers who were focused on body fat for checks.

He had to repeatedly remind and carefully check the limb positions of these new athletes, especially Bu Liuxing.

When the young master lay on the testing equipment, he was like a wild monkey, as if he were taming his own limbs.

After the normal body data was measured, following a dehydration process through the sauna and salt bath, Xue Ming's dehydrated height, weight, body fat, and other data were measured.

When Coach Zhou sent Xue Ming for the second round of testing, he no longer needed to speak. He didn't need to give any prompts or correct Xue Ming's posture.

The entire process was exceptionally comfortable; it was the most comfortable training session he had ever had.

Let's talk about the test results--

--Jiang Xueming's body data differed significantly from that of an ordinary person.

His body fat percentage was only twelve percent.

No edema, blood pressure normal.

Heart rate was very stable, with identical results from both tests. The high temperature and steam from the sauna didn't change his heart's pumping frequency.

His net height was 171 centimeters, and his net weight after dehydration was 63 kilograms.

Yet, he looked very thin. Not exactly skin and bones, but his lower abdomen had an unnaturally slight indentation, the lower part of his rib cage was faintly visible, there wasn't much flesh on his shoulders and collarbones, and his trapezius muscles were almost non-existent.

This was illogical-- Coach Zhou pondered over the test results, trying to figure out where Jiang Xueming's weight was coming from.

Finally, he found the answer in the skeletal muscle content section.

Mr. Jiang Xueming's skeletal muscle content was 51%-- far above the normal standard.

Generally, only overweight men have higher skeletal muscle content, which typically stays around 35-45% with natural exercise and body fat.

We often see people of similar height and weight with vastly different body fat and physiques; this is due to differences in skeletal muscle content and hormone levels.

Given Xue Ming's height and arm span, he shouldn't have this much skeletal muscle.

Curiosity piqued, the coach couldn't help but ask.

"Mr. Xue Ming, did you often carry heavy objects before? These body data are very similar to construction workers who carry bricks every day, but they don't gain much weight without sufficient intake of quality protein and fats."

"Yes." Jiang Xueming recounted his four years of working odd jobs: "I worked at a braised food shop. In the morning, I had to help carry frozen goods in the ice chest. Large carts couldn't be used in the subway station. I also had to spend a long time sorting goods in the kitchen. I had to do these things quickly and efficiently, otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep up with the morning rush."

The coach showed a look of understanding. "What about your daily diet then?"

"I rarely got to eat lunch; it was basically two meals a day." Jiang Xueming recalled, "I'd eat a lot in the morning. At noon, it was peak hours, I couldn't stop, no time for lunch. I'd go back at ten at night to make my second meal, and then sleep immediately after eating."

The coach continued, "How long have you been doing this?"

Xue Ming: "Four years and three months."

Coach: "Then your sleep quality must be very good."

"I don't know about that, but I've never had dreams, except for recently." Jiang Xueming remembered the sleepless nights when Bailu was sick, and that dream about Fang Feng-- those were the most difficult nights he'd had in years.

"If your sleep quality isn't good," the coach deduced, "your body's hormone levels wouldn't be able to sustain this for so long."

Jiang Xueming asked nervously, "Am I considered healthy?"

Coach Zhou stroked his chin, describing: "It's completely unhealthy. To put it scarily, if you went without sleep for two consecutive days, and then caught a cold or your body was injured, your condition would worsen immediately and you'd need ICU.

Jiang Xueming fell silent--

--The two days before Seventh Brother came to pick him up, he hadn't closed his eyes, and white hairs had suddenly appeared.

"But!" the coach laughed heartily, patting Xue Ming's shoulder: "I can let you eat your fill! Eat well, train well, and have a good body!"

For the following days.

While Jiang Xueming was awake, he was almost constantly eating. Every half hour, he needed to swallow about 150 grams of food, with his diet rotating daily.

His daily water intake was 3.7 liters, to help his liver produce blood and his kidneys detoxify.

In Coach Zhou's opinion, Xue Ming could really eat a lot and was not picky at all. His clean fitness meals had no salad dressing or any added sugar.

The coach himself only demanded such strictness when preparing for bodybuilding competitions, and even then, he'd have cheat meals once or twice a week to reward himself.

The way Xue Ming ate was also strange, as if he were stuffing construction materials into his mouth. His chewing and swallowing motions, and the frequency of picking up food, were very regular and natural, like a machine processing parts.

Energy and protein were replenished.

When it came to training, it made Coach Zhou beam with joy.

During machine training, the kid couldn't be described as easy to handle; the coach could completely slack off.

Coach Zhou's duty was to observe Xue Ming's strength limits and muscle condition.

He needed to observe the trainee's skin tone and breathing rhythm to determine if they could complete the exercise.

If any abnormality occurred, he had to immediately help the trainee stop, otherwise, they would get injured.

Starting from light weights, to maximum weights.

The gym's usual trio--deadlifts, squats, bench presses.

Coach Zhou only guided him once and then didn't say another word.

This was where he found it incredible--

--Many trainees get injured during strength training; even seasoned veterans in this field can mess up and need lifting straps and various protective gear.

When a person is exerting themselves intensely, it's hard for them to perceive their own physical state.

Adrenaline dulls pain, and muscle engorgement can numb the brain and limbs' judgment of their own strength.

During most training sessions, the coach stands as an observer, knowing better than the trainee when to stop, when to breathe, and when to exert force.

In Coach Zhou's view--

--Jiang Xueming's strength talent was no different from an ordinary person. Many naturally strong individuals also enjoy fitness and excel in powerlifting.

But this kid, Jiang Xueming, seemed to know his body like the back of his hand.

Whether he was warming up with a calm expression or exerting force with a flushed, grimacing face, his breathing rhythm and muscle condition were maintained exceptionally well.

Heart rate: 105-125 beats per minute.

Blood pressure never exceeded limits, following the exercise frequency.

Muscle tension and relaxation, exercise breakdown and recovery cycle.

He never made mistakes, never got injured, had no joint inflammation, and never misjudged his strength.

Every time he had a physical check-up, his condition was frighteningly good.

The pumping of blood, affecting the skin tone through the major vessels in his neck and thighs, everything was so, so normal.

So normal that Coach Zhou felt the person moving back and forth on the gym equipment--was simply not human.

During Jiang Xueming's first week of training, this beginner's bonus period, the human body is exceptionally sensitive to various exercise stimuli, and it's the best time to build muscle.

The coach could say with certainty.

This kid was getting stronger in a way that was visible to the naked eye; his training methods were too "correct."

--His sleep duration and quality were too correct.

--His digestive system's energy conversion rate was too correct.

--His training duration, rest between sets, and the feeling of activating his body's strength were all too correct.

Every day brought a new level of vitality, and every day when measuring cold, hard data like arm circumference, leg circumference, hip width, and shoulder width, tangible growth was visible.

By the third day, the coach was drained; there was nothing left to teach.

In another four months--this kid would have a very healthy body.

In a year and a half, it would depend on muscle talent and hormone levels to determine if Jiang Xueming could become a muscular hunk like A Xing.

If Xue Ming didn't plan to compete in professional bodybuilding, Coach Zhou genuinely had no more knowledge to impart to him at this stage.

After a week.

The coach's daily job became cooking for Jiang Xueming, preparing twenty-four small meals a day to be consumed over eight or twelve hours, depending on the training program.

His focus shifted from guiding the trainee's muscle development to instructing the kitchen aunties on meal preparation.

At this moment--

The coach also discovered that besides the gym, Xue Ming had started using his newly strengthened body to torment the other two teachers.

Coach Zhou didn't understand shooting or combat. But he knew these were strenuous aerobic exercises that could affect the results of strength training.

However, every morning, Xue Ming's physical test results were largely in line with the plan, so he had to keep adding more high-energy foods to the meal plan to sustain Xue Ming's extracurricular physical exertion.

At first, Old Li thought Jiang Xueming was just training with brute force in the gym, which was useless.

As a result, when Xue Ming changed into his combat vest, the explosive power from his waist and thighs made his punch speed and power completely different from before.

The food he had eaten these past few days, along with the extra subcutaneous fat, protected his fragile lower ribs and abdomen, making his torso lines more symmetrical.

These energy reserves significantly boosted Xue Ming's ability to maintain continuous offense.

Teacher Li's main job became hitting Xue Ming's shins and elbows, a prolonged process that would make the young man unafraid of pain.

But as he kept hitting, Teacher Li felt like a blacksmith, with punches and kicks like hammer blows on iron.

The tenth day.

Jiang Xueming broke the one-minute mark on the shooting range.

Teacher Liu had to be hospitalized and given three bottles of glucose due to dehydration and incapacitation.

The agreed-upon time arrived.

On the last day of mid-July, Jiang Xueming did not go to the training hall. He stretched his waist on the terrace, basking in the sun.

The full-length mirror reflected his bare upper body, his shoulders, neck, and upper arms strong and powerful, his torso and abdomen smoothly contoured, each part bearing crimson scars. These were tears in his skin from tendons growing too quickly, which would take a long time to fade.

These marks were like surgical scars, and Jiang Xueming was the chief surgeon.

His hands were calloused, with brown lumps formed from the repeated pressure of countless pushes, pulls, and drags. His shoulders bore the mark of pushing a barbell, a faint brown imprint.

He held a pen and wrote in his notebook.

"The feeling of my first exercise was strange, a pain I can't forget--

--My body was like it hadn't woken up yet, but I was urging it to get up. It needed time to adapt to the stimulating pain, which would last for several days and then gradually subside during exercise.

Every muscle ached in turn, as if saying, 'My brain! What are you doing? Are you going to die? Why are you waking me up so suddenly? Why am I suffering like this?' and so on.

It's like a wild horse; once tamed, it can take me very far."

Turning to the next page, his arms also had many swollen lumps from being beaten, which had mostly subsided.

"The endorphins produced after exercise are like sweet dew to a parched body, allowing me to sleep very soundly. I'm a little addicted, but I can't get lost in this pleasure-- it's time to go."

He put on a thin white shirt and realized it was already a bit ill-fitting. There were no other sizes in his wardrobe, so he had to make do.

In front of the bathroom sink, he shaved off his overgrown beard-- Xue Ming hadn't shaved for over ten days.

Exercise had increased his testosterone levels and metabolism, causing his beard to grow rapidly, leaving him no time to groom it.

He put on his shoes and pants, feeling that everything was good.

As good as the scorching sun in mid-July.

Xiao Qi hadn't seen Xue Ming for over ten days.

Every day, Xue Ming woke up earlier than the roosters and went to bed later than the dogs, eating, drinking, and relieving himself all in the training hall.

Xiao Qi wanted to visit him and take the opportunity to "flirt" a bit, but she had no chance.

Her daily job was to escort Bailu to and from school.

One morning, after brushing her teeth and preparing to get some fries at the restaurant, she saw a real man busy in the kitchen.

She wasn't sure who it was--

--because the back looked very familiar, very much like Xue Ming.

But Mr. Xue Ming definitely didn't have a back--

--shaped like an inverted triangle, so broad that even his white shirt couldn't contain it.

"Do we have a guest?" Xiao Qi casually asked Bailu: "Sister-in-law? Who is that in the kitchen?"

Bailu didn't look up from her homework: "It's my brother."

Xiao Qi: "Your brother?"

"Be careful what you say," Bailu kindly reminded her: "That word you just used would get you shot on the streets of America."

"Tch! What are you talking about?" Xiao Qi waved her hand, shaking off the chill from Bailu's cold joke and pun, and ran to the kitchen to greet Xue Ming.

"You're finally out? Jiang Xueming? Let me hug you, let me hug you!~"

Xue Ming happened to turn around, holding his breakfast, and came face to face with Seventh Brother.

The scrambled eggs with beef cubes in the plate were cooked perfectly, still sizzling. Olive oil danced on the white plate, occasionally splashing onto his firm chest.

Seventh Brother was stunned for a moment, hesitant to move, afraid of knocking over the plate.

She looked up again to get a closer look, scanning his semi-transparent shirt a few times, and saw that his chest muscles were pushing out the two collar buttons. The V-lines beneath his shirt were faintly visible.

"Hiss," she inhaled sharply.

Xue Ming smiled and handed her the plate: "Seventh Brother, I haven't properly thanked you for asking about opening a shop before. I learned this dish at the hotel, after you fell asleep that night."

After speaking, he licked his fingers clean and explained sheepishly, "My strength has increased, and my old cooking methods aren't working well. I got sauce all over my hands, sorry for the embarrassment."

"Huh?" Xiao Qi's brain short-circuited. He took the plate, his eyes locked onto Xue Ming's fingers.

Jiang Xueming reminded, "You go rest in the dining room first. I still need to make a plate for Sansan."

Xiao Qi, as if he'd touched an electrical outlet, went completely numb.

He walked away, soul-lost, eyes glazed over.

Jiang Xueming gently placed his clean hand on Seventh Brother's shoulder, pushing him out of the kitchen like he was guiding a wheelchair.

Xiao Qi sat back down at the dining table, shaking his head vigorously, his eyes wide with a strange expression.

"What kind of dark magic is this? What kind of seductive demon man."