Chapter 8: Childhood Friend

Mentioning her sister-in-law, the young girl looked quite proud. Like a little adult, she reached out and patted Li Yancheng on the chest.

"Brother Dacheng, when it comes to finding a wife, you’re nowhere near as good as my brother. Just look at your taste—you almost got yourself ruined by that marriage."

Though she was still just a child and perhaps didn't fully grasp the complexities of adult relationships, she had seen enough of the world over the past two years to understand a thing or two. Ever since the New Year, Li Yancheng had been constantly summoned for questioning, and she had been sweating for him the whole time. Now that he finally had his divorce papers in hand and was completely free of that woman, she felt genuinely happy for him, and felt comfortable enough to joke around.

Li Yancheng nodded in agreement. When it came to judgment, the original owner of this body was indeed nowhere near as sharp as his childhood friend, Jin Zhihai.

"What do you mean by 'almost got myself ruined'?"

Before he could respond, Jin Zhihai, dressed in his green-and-blue police uniform with his cap perched on his head, trotted over. Having caught the tail end of his sister’s comment, he asked with curiosity.

"Ningning was saying that my judgment in finding a wife is nowhere near as good as yours."

"Well, obviously!"

Hearing his wife being complimented, Jin Zhihai beamed with pride, his eyebrows practically dancing. He threw one arm around Li Yancheng’s shoulder and rested the other on his sister’s, nudging them both toward the end of the street as he said, "I'll have my wife introduce you to someone soon. There are plenty of unmarried girls at her department store."

"Oh, give it a rest. I’m a divorcee now; what unmarried girl would want me?"

"That’s not necessarily true. Your case is special. Besides, your conditions aren't bad at all—you’ve got the height, you’ve got the looks, your job is respectable, and you have your own place. Once you buy a bicycle, you’ll be all set. I’m telling you, Dacheng, with your credentials, there will be no shortage of people wanting to marry their daughters off to you."

Jin Zhihai wasn't just spouting nonsense. Li Yancheng’s personal standing was top-tier in their neighborhood, and he had even forgotten to mention one thing: he was educated. In this day and age, a technical school graduate was a rarity—a true intellectual who had the right to tuck a fountain pen into the chest pocket of his tunic.

"Stop with all this talk. Let’s leave the matchmaking for later. Once bitten, twice shy—I need some time to recover."

Li Yancheng wasn't just being polite; he really wasn't particularly yearning for the domestic life of a wife and kids. He had grown accustomed to his solitary life, and the thought of an outsider suddenly crowding into his world made him feel deeply uncomfortable.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Jin Wening, walking on the other side, suddenly pulled away from her brother’s arm, ran to Li Yancheng’s left side, and reached out to grab his hand as it swung at his side. Both men turned to look at her, bewildered by her sudden gesture.

"Hey, I’m your brother, you know. Why are you grabbing his hand instead of mine?"

"Your hand is uncomfortable to hold—it's all bones," the girl replied, showing her brother no mercy. "Brother Dacheng’s hand is soft, warm, and feels nice to hold. It’s perfect for warming my hands."

Hearing this, Jin Zhihai curiously looked down at Li Yancheng’s right hand. Li Yancheng’s hand was indeed remarkably well-formed; the fingers were long and slender, lacking the protruding knuckles of a manual laborer, and his nails were neatly trimmed and perfectly clean. Due to his profession, he didn't have to do heavy labor, so his skin was fair and free of the calluses common among working men. It really was quite pleasant to the touch.

As soon as his friend grabbed his hand, Li Yancheng pulled away quickly; he had no interest in having his hands held by another man. Jin Zhihai didn't take offense, but he looked at his sister with feigned indignation. "What do you know? A man’s hand should look like mine—rugged and powerful. Your Brother Dacheng’s hand looks like that of a pampered young lady from the old days, completely devoid of strength."

"Pfft..." The girl didn't argue, just stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"Hey, you little brat, you’ve really been spoiled rotten by your sister-in-law."

Just as Jin Zhihai moved to tease his sister, Li Yancheng acted. He reached out and grabbed his friend’s right hand, saying with a smirk, "Devoid of strength? Come on, let’s arm-wrestle."

"Oh? You’re actually challenging me to a grip test?" Jin Zhihai raised an eyebrow.

"I’m going to show you that a man changes in three days." As he spoke, Li Yancheng began to apply pressure.

Feeling the force, Jin Zhihai immediately stopped smiling and tightened his grip, trying to push back. Suddenly, he felt a surge of immense power come from the hand holding his, which vanished as quickly as it had arrived, along with the hand itself.

The lingering soreness in his hand and the shock of that sudden strength made him gasp, his eyes wide as he stared at Li Yancheng.

"Hiss... what on earth did you eat during those two months in the countryside? How did your strength suddenly become so immense?"

It was no wonder Jin Zhihai was stunned. Although Li Yancheng had spent several years in the military, he had spent most of them in a hospital setting. Aside from the month of training during the annual spring exercises, he lived like any other office worker, never exercising. He looked tall at 1.8 meters, but he was actually quite weak. He was no match for Jin Zhihai, who had been trained by his father since childhood. In their usual playful scuffles, Jin Zhihai could easily pin him down with one hand. But the strength he had just felt—he was certain he couldn't replicate it even with both hands.

As for the improvement in his physical condition and the surge in strength, Li Yancheng had only realized it that morning while riding his bike. At first, he thought it was just the natural state of the original owner's body, but after boarding the bus and reviewing his memories, he realized that wasn't the case at all—the description of him being "weak as a chicken" was no exaggeration.

In his memories, the original owner’s performance in bed—lasting less than three minutes—made him feel deeply embarrassed.

*Tsk, tsk... No wonder that woman ran off with her family; that three-minute limit probably had something to do with it.*

He mused maliciously as he sat on the bus.

That, of course, was just a joke.