Half an hour later.
Ji Huan had finally managed to explain, through a mix of coaxing and reasoning, that he only wanted to play with ShuangTang—not to take it away for some perverse experiment or dissection.
Seeing Yuan Li’s expression finally relax a little, he looked both amused and helpless. “So… what kind of impression do I have in your mind?”
“It’s not about impressions. I have to be responsible for ShuangTang,” Yuan Li said, her eyes flickering for a moment, trying to sound resolute despite her wavering mood.
She barely knew Ji Huan—so what if there had been a misunderstanding?
Ji Huan asked, “Now that you know I only want to pet the cat… will you agree to my condition?”
“No,” Yuan Li said firmly. She wouldn’t hand ShuangTang over, and she added, “Unless ShuangTang wants to.”
Ji Huan: “Then I’ll ask it.”
But there was no need.
Ever since Yuan Li had gotten into the car, she had unzipped her backpack, letting ShuangTang get some fresh air and move around.
But as soon as Ji Huan mentioned wanting ShuangTang, it hid.
Now, hearing him ask again, two tiny paws emerged, clutching the zipper, slowly pulling it shut again.
Yuan Li: “…”
Ji Huan nearly lost control of his racing heart, but seeing Yuan Li’s cautious expression, he asked instead, “Where did you find it? Animals usually have siblings—if any others are still out there, I can take them back and raise them too.”
Yuan Li wanted to ask—really, raise them?
But after hesitating, she told him the location.
It wasn’t that she didn’t care about ShuangTang’s siblings.
It was just that she had a subtle intuition that Ji Huan wouldn’t find anything.
ShuangTang was truly one of a kind.
After giving ShuangTang a bowl of milk, Yuan Li set it on a small bench by the wall and gently coaxed it: “Later, Sis will exercise with that uncle. You just stay here and watch me, okay?”
ShuangTang blinked its big eyes and obediently nodded.
Yuan Li softened. “Good little one.”
When Yuan Li approached, Ji Huan had just adjusted the exercise equipment, pointing to three pieces.
“This measures strength, flexibility, and speed.”
Yuan Li first went to the strength-testing machine—a common punching apparatus. Following Ji Huan’s instructions, she gathered her power and threw a punch.
The suspended punching arm flew forward, and the display screen flashed numbers.
It finally settled at 63 kg.
Ji Huan looked at the number, slightly surprised. “You’re a bit stronger than I expected.”
To make sure Yuan Li was ready, he had her punch two more times: 65 kg, 60 kg.
In the end, they settled on the average: 63 kg.
Next was flexibility.
This was in a semi-enclosed room, where Yuan Li followed prompts to strike poses resembling yoga or ballet stretches.
“High flexibility,” Ji Huan noted.
Finally, it was time for the speed test.
This was the most interesting: hitting balls.
An automatic ball machine would shoot tennis balls, and Yuan Li had to hit them back—or dodge them.
Yuan Li protested, “I don’t play tennis.”
She only knew basic table tennis and badminton.
“Don’t worry, it’s easy,” Ji Huan reassured.
Half skeptical, Yuan Li stood in the center. As Ji Huan pressed start, the first ball shot out.
She held her breath, timed her swing, and returned the ball.
After a one-second pause, the second ball appeared.
The interval between balls was roughly three seconds.
Yuan Li breathed a sigh of relief, hitting the second ball easily, though she wondered:
Speed test isn’t about accuracy—can it really be this simple?
The answer soon became clear.
Three seconds per ball was just the beginning. After five balls, the interval shortened to two seconds, then one second, then one second for two balls, then three, then…
Yuan Li panicked, shouting, “Enough! I can’t handle this!”
At two balls, she could return most of them, but by the time five balls came, dodging everything was nearly impossible.
Tennis balls had some weight, and getting hit hurt.
Finally, Ji Huan turned off the machine. Ten seconds later, the results printed.
Rubbing her arms, Yuan Li checked.
“43 points? I didn’t even pass???”
She was shocked. She had thought she did pretty well!
“Ah, I forgot to set it to the standard for regular humans,” Ji Huan said casually.
Yuan Li: “?”
She forced out a small laugh. “Heh.”
Ji Huan wasn’t concerned. Estimating her stats, he said, “Your strength is weak. I remember your physical exam report said your body is frail. So we’ll start with endurance—today, just run.”
“Okay.”
Yuan Li felt this was the training she had expected from the start.
“Come on!” Ji Huan set the treadmill to non-Evolver mode for her.
Yuan Li started running.
The treadmill ramped up gradually: slow walk, fast walk, then light jog.
Ji Huan glanced at the time. “This is your first run—try to last forty-five minutes. Don’t worry, after you finish, I’ll massage your muscles so you won’t be sore tomorrow.”
Yuan Li had no energy to respond.
Within minutes, she was gasping, struggling for air, too exhausted to speak.
But she still listened to Ji Huan’s words. She wanted to test her limits.
At first, it was grueling.
But as time passed, her body adapted to the intensity.
Yuan Li, who had once struggled to run 800 meters, was astonished at herself. Step by step, she ran, feeling a cooling sensation spreading from her chest through her entire body.
She had a fleeting sense of seeing her whole body—even her back.
The control over her body, combined with the soothing chill, was comforting.
Like a baby wrapped in a mother’s womb—familiar and safe.
It was so comforting that a wave of drowsiness swept over her.
Voices seemed to echo around her, but she no longer cared.
Her eyes closed, and she collapsed onto the treadmill.
If Ji Huan hadn’t noticed and caught her in time, it would have been dangerous to fall onto the moving machine!
At the same time, ShuangTang had already leapt onto her. Its round eyes glared at the “culprit” Ji Huan, showing a hint of ferocity.
The contamination value on the silver collar jumped from 7% to 17% instantly!
Ji Huan suddenly felt the panic of being stared down by a wild beast.
But it lasted only a moment.
ShuangTang leaned close to Yuan Li’s neck, pressing its body to sense her blood flow.
A gentle, enveloping aura—perceptible only to it—spread out, calming its aggression.
It also sensed Yuan Li’s condition was fine—perhaps even excellent.
“Hiss… I think something’s wrong with you,” Ji Huan muttered, feeling sweat rise on his back.
He glanced at ShuangTang. “You stay in the bag—I need to check on your owner.”
ShuangTang ignored him.
Ji Huan chuckled, not arguing with the little furball. He noted the rapidly dropping contamination value on its collar and decided not to bring it up.
“Hold on tight. If you fall, I won’t be responsible.”
With that, he scooped up Yuan Li, carrying her and the backpack, letting ShuangTang cling to her as they headed to the medical room on the first floor.
The doctor frowned sharply at the unconscious girl. “How did she faint again? Can you explain this to me?”