"My child is as skinny as a monkey, and he's always bullied at school..."
A middle-aged man was inquiring about the courses.
He wanted to enroll his child in a winter camp to work out a bit, but was also worried that learning to fight might lead to bad behavior.
"Of course, you can, big brother."
"The academic pressure is huge for students these days, their constitution is getting worse, and their personalities are becoming more introverted."
"Enrolling children in combat classes isn't about teaching them to fight, but to empower them to bravely say no to bullying. As the saying goes, show them one punch to avoid a hundred..."
Two female colleagues were pitching the club's fighting courses with great enthusiasm, exaggerating its virtues to the sky.
It was almost as if they were describing the noble sects from martial arts novels, where one could attain mystical skills and become a chivalrous hero, unrivaled in the world.
Fang Cheng put away his slacking off mentality.
Soon after, he stood at the desk, loudly hailing customers, acting like a human billboard to attract patrons.
Perhaps it was the effect of the posters, or maybe it was Fang Cheng's added charm from his appearance and temperament.
More and more people came to inquire and register.
Over half of them were young female office workers or wealthy, idle housewives, and there were also a few curious old men and young guys.
Seeing this, the two female colleagues seized the opportunity to promote aggressively.
"Ladies, if you want to lose weight, shape up, or learn self-defense, you can come and visit the club first, then decide."
"We're currently running a promotion, with all courses at 20% off, and additional discounts for referring someone!"
Some people confidently paid a deposit, saying that with such attractive staff members, the fitness results were bound to be great.
Others asked about the price difference between "group classes" and "private coaching."
"Group classes lay the foundation. If you want to advance, we also offer one-on-one coaching services, which is why it's pricier."
"Then I'll buy twenty sessions, and choose this little brother here for private coaching!"
The speaker sounded very confident, undoubtedly a wealthy and tasteful matron.
"Ahem, he's not a coach..."
"What a pity..."
Faced with some flirtatious remarks and the occasional fiery glances.
Fang Cheng, however, remained calm this time, distributing flyers with ease, and addressing every customer's inquiries in detail.
Because, he decisively activated his Concentration Skill.
The surrounding noise seemed to turn into emotionless machine-generated announcements, unable to disturb his peace of mind anymore.
"Concentration" could be effective in areas far beyond studying and training, and it was equally applicable to work.
At this moment, his eyes showed determination, his attitude was proper, and he behaved like the most hardworking chosen employee.
But this also seemed to confirm a saying, that a man who is serious about his work is the most charming.
The female customers couldn't help but have their eyes sparkle even more as they glanced at the cool and composed Fang Cheng.
Unknowingly, the hubbub gradually dissipated, returning to quietness.
Finally, it was time to close up shop.
Fang Cheng let out a long breath.
Then he opened his palm and looked at the note that someone had slipped into his hand without his noticing.
The note brazenly contained a flirtatious message:
"Young man, the aunty doesn't want you to work hard anymore, contact number XXXXXX."
Fang Cheng grimaced, glancing at the two chatty female colleagues beside him.
He quickly crumpled the note into a ball and quietly tossed it into a nearby trash bin.
The two female colleagues were still warmly discussing which buffet restaurant to go to after work.
Fang Cheng's face was full of weariness, his gaze landing on the Skill Panel.
[Concentration lv1 (87/250)]
Earning 6 Experience Points after an afternoon's work seemed pretty good, but it also consumed a lot of Spirit.
To be honest, it was more exhausting than the regular training.
Fang Cheng rubbed his temples, his brows furrowing.
Even with skills to help, he still tried to patiently practice his eloquence and social abilities.
But there was always a sense of being forced into an uncomfortable position.
Thinking about facing even noisier and more complex scenarios as a future lawyer, Fang Cheng couldn't help but feel apprehensive.
The routine life of the workplace seemed to be growing more and more unsuitable for him.
After all, his ambition was not in this...
Grandpa's illness, the expectations of a champion athlete, flashed through his mind.
Fang Cheng's eyes suddenly darkened:
"I need to find a way to get out of this predicament..."
After tidying up, the tables and chairs were left in place.
Tomorrow morning, the recruitment work must continue.
Fang Cheng picked up the folded display rack and walked back to the club with his female colleagues.
Passing by the corner of the elevator, they found an advertising display placed there as well.
The portrait on the poster was not of a sports star or a young, beautiful model.
It was an elderly man in white practice clothes, with a kindly and loving face.
"Ma's Tai Chi Sect Leader, a renowned Qigong Master, and health expert, is wholeheartedly imparting his unique skills. Don't miss the chance as you pass by, come take a look!"
A burly man stood near the elevator, hawking loudly in a throaty voice.
However, passersby, upon seeing his bear-like figure and tattoos on his hands, made a wide detour around him.
"Ma Donghe?"
Fang Cheng's gaze flickered with surprise.
What a coincidence to run into him again.
Looking at his dark, wide face and the thick stack of flyers in his hand that hadn't been handed out,
Fang Cheng suddenly felt a sense of sympathy.
At that moment, a blonde-haired young man passed by with an arrogant gait.
Ma Donghe suddenly shouted "Stop."
He then kicked the blonde-haired guy in the buttocks and forcibly stuffed a flyer into his hand.
The blonde-haired guy seemed to freeze in shock, obediently standing still and not daring to move.
The intimidating demeanor effectively frightened several others who were passing by, causing them to all stop in place.
Under the force of intimidation, a group of people had no choice but to obediently take the flyers handed to them by Ma Donghe, one by one.
Then, like being in detention, they formed a group and listened patiently to him explain what "Tai Chi Qigong" is and why Master Ma is so outstanding.
The blonde-haired man, having served his purpose, sneakily slipped away afterward.
Fang Cheng witnessed this scene, shook his head speechlessly, and continued walking.
To tell the truth, Ma Donghe also trained in combat sports and was very strong.
If it weren't for the fact that he didn't want to become involved with the underworld,
Fang Cheng would have been quite willing to be sparring partners with him for friendly competition to enhance his fight skills.
Upon returning to the club, it was almost 5:30.
There was no night shift today, and the cleaning work had just finished.
A group of colleagues from the logistics department were chatting, waiting to punch out at the end of their shift.
Walking into the changing room, Fang Cheng could clearly feel that people's gazes seemed different.
It seemed the news of his transfer to the marketing department had already spread.
Fang Cheng didn't pay much attention to it, gathered his belongings, and swiftly walked out.
By this moment, he already had a preliminary idea in mind.
When he reached Training Hall No.1,
he saw Coach Xu Maochai, the main coach of the Sanda department, who had just finished instructing a few elite students and was also about to leave.
Fang Cheng's eyes flashed, and then he walked straight up to him.
"Coach, I want to learn Sanda!"
Of course.
The above was just his true inner thoughts.
Fang Cheng carefully considered his words and said in a gentle tone:
"Coach Xu, I am quite interested in the operational work of the Sanda department, could I apply to do an internship with you for a while?"
Coach Xu was taken aback at first, then his smile bloomed like a chrysanthemum.
He quickly grasped Fang Cheng's hands and shook them vigorously:
"Welcome, welcome! Mr. Fang, you really are... such a fine figure of a man..."
For him, who had been underperforming in recent times, this request was an unexpected delight.