The city skyline faintly reveals a hint of dawn's pale light.
Soon the rosy glow blooms, penetrating numerous high-rise buildings, reflecting onto a ruddy face.
Fang Cheng's form rises and falls, prostrated on a concrete platform, supporting himself with one hand, continuously executing Fist Push-ups.
"..."
"597."
"598."
"599."
"600."
As he silently counts to the number 600, he leaps up, returning to a standing position with his muscular body.
Looking towards the slowly rising sun, his eyes refract a brilliant glow, he mutters to himself:
"A new year, a new day, keep pushing forward!"
At this moment, the place where he stands,
Is on top of a concrete water tank, atop the tubular building where he lives.
After watching the fireworks display on the roof with Zhou Xiumei and Wen Xin last night,
Fang Cheng suddenly realized that this place is actually an ideal training ground.
Quiet, convenient, free from external disturbances, and relatively well-equipped with facilities.
