Faster, higher, stronger

The recruitment physical test for students with athletic specialties varies widely depending on the sport they train in, resulting in a diverse range of test items. Still, the assessment boils down to a total score of 100 points, with 60% allocated to physical fitness and 40% to specialized skills.

Since Chen Jue was only there as an auditor and not a professional sports student, Li Rui was more flexible with the tests he set for him.

“Zhang Xuete, come over and run 100 meters with your senior!”

Li Rui waved at a few sports students stretching at the end of the track. A skinny, wiry boy grinned and jogged over.

“Hello, senior!” Zhang Xuete greeted Chen Jue and then crouched down in the starting position, placing his feet on the starting blocks.

Chen Jue had never tried these professional running techniques before, so he mimicked the position but found it extremely awkward.

“Chen, just start from a normal standing position,” Li Rui advised, seeing Chen Jue’s discomfort. “Crouch starts need long-term training; beginners often find them hard to adapt to.”

Relieved, Chen Jue immediately stopped struggling and adjusted to a comfortable starting stance.

“On your marks, set—”

Li Rui lifted his electronic starting pistol. At the shot, both Chen Jue and Zhang Xuete launched forward.

Yet, from the get-go, Chen Jue realized he was falling behind.

The crouch start was clearly more explosive for the initial push-off. Besides, Chen Jue hadn’t trained for sprints, so his pursuit depended entirely on raw physical strength.

By the time he sprinted to the finish line, Zhang Xuete had pulled nearly ten meters ahead.

“100 meters, hand-timed at 11.93 seconds,” Li Rui announced, stopwatch in hand.

As for Zhang Xuete, he’d clocked in at 10.88 seconds.

“A difference of over a second?”

“No wonder he pulled away so far,” Chen Jue panted at the finish line.

Sprinting emphasized explosive power. Though the distance was short, an all-out sprint left his legs stiff and aching.

“Mr. Li, how was my sprint time?” Chen Jue asked as he caught his breath.

“Not bad! Breaking 12 seconds by hand-timing already puts you at the level of a Category 3 athlete,” Li Rui nodded, having paid close attention to Chen Jue’s form.

Neither his arm swing nor his knee lift was standard—evidently untrained. Achieving this result on sheer physical fitness alone showed that Chen Jue’s recent dedication to training had paid off, even if he still lagged behind professional sprinters.

…

With the 100-meter sprint done, Li Rui had a good sense of Chen Jue’s lower-body explosiveness.

He led Chen Jue off the track to the long jump pit at the side of the field.

This time, the test was long jump. Surprisingly, though Chen Jue had never trained for it, he managed to leap just over six meters after a run-up, once again impressing Li Rui.

“His technique is all wrong, yet he has this much explosive power? This Chen truly has athletic talent! No wonder he calls himself a sports fanatic,” Li Rui mused.

After a few rounds of long jump, they moved to the shot put pit.

Two burly sports students were practicing there, gripping the shot against their shoulder and eye socket, then using a backward sidestep and spin to heave the shot put with all their might.

With a heavy thud, the shot landed in the pit, leaving a dent and sending dust flying. The shot had flown over nineteen meters—already at the level of a national elite athlete.

“Amazing! So strong!”

Chen Jue sized up the two behemoths; both looked around 190 centimeters tall and weighed at least 100 kilos. Obviously, their primary focus was field events; their upper bodies were more developed than their legs.

Seeing Li Rui bring over a stranger, the two athletes cheerfully vacated the area.

“Mr. Li, can I use my own technique?” Chen Jue asked, knowing shot put measured upper-body strength, and weighed the shot in his hand. It was the same as the competition-standard shot he’d bought for himself: sixteen pounds.

To Chen Jue, the shot was just a heavier, larger throwing weapon.

Applying his perfected “projectile throwing” technique to gripping the shot, Chen Jue immediately envisioned a way to maximize his throw.

“Your own way?”

“Just be careful not to hurt your arm; we still need to test your javelin throw,” Li Rui replied, leading the students to a safe distance.

Chen Jue positioned the shot between his shoulder and chin, just as the others had.

But instead of the backward sidestep, he spread his legs, planted one foot, swung the other, and spun like a top at the throwing mark, then whipped his arm, launching the shot upward and forward.

The sight stunned not only Li Rui, but also the two burly athletes.

“Damn!”

“A spin throw!”

…

“Impressive!” the athletes exclaimed from the sidelines.

The shot described a perfect arc in the air and thudded into the pit.

Li Rui hurried over with a measuring tape. “Eighteen point two three meters!”

“Chen, try another throw!” Li Rui, excited, moved aside.

Chen Jue repeated the spinning technique, this time clearing eighteen meters again, though not as far as the first—eighteen point one one meters.

Clearly, the consecutive explosive throws had sapped his strength.

“How’s my performance, Mr. Li?” Chen Jue asked, glancing at his marks, which were still well behind the two big guys.

He thought his performance lacking, but Li Rui showered him with praise.

“You’ve already surpassed the national elite standard! And you used the most advanced rotational technique! Are you sure you’ve never trained for shot put?”

Li Rui’s eyes sparkled; he felt he’d found a hidden gem.

During Chen Jue’s tests, Li Rui realized that the seemingly flashy sports Chen Jue had mentioned—rock climbing, traditional martial arts projectiles, javelin, archery—mostly focused on upper-body strength. Coupled with Chen Jue’s weaker performance in running and jumping, it was clear his lower body hadn’t been fully trained.

He surmised that Chen Jue’s true strengths lay in field events requiring upper-body power.

The shot put test confirmed it.

“It really is my first time. Did I do something wrong?” Chen Jue asked anxiously.

“No, you did great! Our shot put techniques have lagged behind for years; even now, most active throwers still use the traditional glide, with few adopting the spin. But in Europe and America, the glide is obsolete—top throwers all use the spin, and their results are far ahead of ours.”

China’s shot put record stands at 20.41 meters, while the world record is 23.51 meters. The gap isn’t just in raw power, but also in technique and training methods.

Take Su, the sprinting legend—as long as he used traditional domestic training, he could only run ten seconds flat. It wasn’t until he hired a foreign coach, strengthened his power training, and changed his starting technique that, as an East Asian, he broke through to 9.83 seconds—showing that East Asians’ athletic potential isn’t inferior to others.

Listening to Li Rui’s explanation, Chen Jue realized just how impressive his maxed-out projectile skills were—he’d skipped past the basic glide and straight into the most advanced technique in shot putting.

Truly, maxed-out “projectile throwing” never fails!

Moreover, both shot put throws increased his “hunting throw” proficiency by five and four points, respectively, proving that the sport was, as he suspected, originally developed for hunting, just like the javelin.

…

After the shot put, seeing those two eighteen-meter throws, Li Rui was even more amazed by Chen Jue’s prowess as a “sports enthusiast.”

For ordinary people, bridging the gap with trained athletes on physical fitness alone is extremely difficult—let alone excelling in events where others have honed skills day and night.

When Chen Jue threw the javelin and it soared out to sixty-eight meters, Li Rui was convinced: “This Chen is no ordinary guy!”

“Another two meters farther than before—maybe my arm strength’s improved?” Chen Jue wondered, thrilled at the progress.

Yet after those final javelin throws, he was overcome by fatigue and collapsed onto the grass, gasping for breath.

After recording his results, Li Rui sat beside him and analyzed, “Chen, I’ve gathered enough data on your physical abilities. Right now, your upper-body explosiveness is at the level of a Category 1 athlete, bordering on elite. But your lower body is far weaker, only about Category 3. Your core strength is also lacking, your endurance is below average, and your flexibility needs work. By the standards of ‘faster, higher, stronger,’ you’ve got a lot of room for improvement. Still, for an amateur, this is already outstanding! If you weren’t an auditor, I’d want you on our university team.”

Listening to Li Rui’s nearly over-the-top praise, Chen Jue accepted it sheepishly. “So what about my training plan?”

“Don’t worry! That spin shot put of yours gave me a lot of ideas. When we get back, I’ll find the most advanced training methods and design a professional plan for you. You’re not a pro, so there’s no need to get bogged down in all the technical rules—just use the best training available. But remember, moderation is key; overtraining can lead to injury. If you’re ever unsure, just come to me with questions.” Li Rui patted his shoulder, promising to provide a training plan—a huge relief to Chen Jue.

Hearing he’d be using the most advanced foreign methods, Chen Jue grew more excited.

Just from jogging for one class period that afternoon, he’d earned a 0.05 attribute point.

If he learned those cutting-edge, scientific training techniques, wouldn’t his attribute gains skyrocket?

But recalling the many side effects of intense exercise, he made sure to ask Li Rui about professional sports massage therapists.

“Our school has qualified doctors and massage therapists, but since you’re not on the team, you probably can’t get their help. I’ll recommend a place—a sports rehabilitation center. If you’re interested, try it out, but be warned: it’s pricey!” With that, Li Rui sent him the address.

…

After thanking Li Rui profusely, the two parted ways on the field.

Since Chen Jue would continue attending classes at the university, he’d have plenty of chances to learn from Li Rui.

After that intense afternoon, he was more exhausted than ever.

Lugging his heavy backpack, legs wobbly, he left the campus, planning to return to his apartment for a medicinal soak.

But the thought of the two-kilometer walk to the apartment complex made him hesitate.

“Expensive? More than Jingtanghui?” Chen Jue muttered as he pulled up the navigation for the rehab center Li Rui had recommended.

It turned out to be in Binjiang District, over half an hour’s drive away.

Too far to drive himself, especially with legs like jelly—he might not even manage the pedals—so he hailed a ride instead.

Once inside, he slumped into the back seat, closed his eyes, and didn’t even bother with his phone; he was simply too drained.

When he finally arrived, he discovered the “Tianyu Sports Rehabilitation Center” was right next to the major hospital where he’d had his first checkup.

Built along the river, the center was a freestanding, block-shaped building with thousands of square meters and complete facilities.

Only a few kilometers from Huaye Park, he’d passed by before, always assuming it was a high-end private club and never bothering to look inside.

“Hello, sir, is this your first visit? Are you here for post-surgical rehab or sports injury recovery?” the nurse at the front desk asked.

“Rehab? Isn’t it just massage?” Chen Jue was puzzled.

“We’re a professional rehabilitation center. Massage is just one form of therapy. If you’re unsure, take a look at our price list—we’re running some package deals now.” The receptionist handed him a brochure and a cup of hot water.

The service was excellent, and Chen Jue noticed plenty of people of all ages using crutches inside.

Most clients, the receptionist explained, came for post-surgical rehab—postpartum, neurological, or orthopedic conditions.

Few, like Chen Jue, came for post-exercise recovery.

Seeing the major hospital next door, Chen Jue couldn’t help but admire the business acumen: “These capitalists sure know what they’re doing! With the hospital next door, they’ll never lack customers.”

But when he flipped to the price list, he couldn’t help but gasp.

The lowest-level rehab package started at twelve thousand yuan per month, billed in four-week units.

That meant at least tens of thousands a year—just for the basic package!

Expert therapists charged extra—eight hundred to fifteen hundred per hour.

No wonder Li Rui had warned him about the price.

“Damn!”

“Health really is priceless. This money could buy two weeks of fun at Jingtanghui.”

Staring at the prices, Chen Jue hesitated.

His savings of just over a hundred thousand wouldn’t last long at these rates.

Fortunately, his “Master of Skills” platform stats gave him some confidence. After a few days, his followers had jumped from a hundred thousand to over eight hundred thousand, and the numbers were still climbing; several of his videos had already surpassed ten million views.

His total earnings had shot up from six thousand to over forty thousand in just a few days.

That was way faster than any office grind—it felt like money was blowing in on the wind.

“No wonder everyone complains about influencers, yet everyone wants to be one.”

“With money coming in this fast, I’d better make more skill videos,” Chen Jue thought.

Second update!

Both chapters today are long—nearly ten thousand words in total, a mini burst of content.

More tomorrow, and please remember to vote~ (End of chapter)