Chapter 23: Starting Training

Xiong Yibai held her forearm just like last time, while her other hand gripped Feng Miwan’s palm and moved her wrist joint in various directions to test its range of motion.

This time, when faced with her touch, Feng Miwan found that she seemed… a little more accustomed to it?

Her heart still raced, but at least she didn’t stiffen up like a block of wood as she had before.

Once the examination was complete, Xiong Yibai released her hand.

“The recovery is going well.”

“Better than I expected. It looks like you’ve been very obedient this past week.”

Hearing the praise from Dr. Xiong, Feng Miwan’s face broke into a huge smile.

“So… does that mean I can move on to the next step?”

“You said before that if recovery went well, I could start some adaptive training at the beginning of the month.”

“Do you think I can head back to the team now?”

She looked like a puppy eagerly waiting to be fed, her tail practically wagging.

Xiong Yibai finally gave the answer Feng Miwan had been longing for.

“You can start some low-intensity adaptive training with the team.”

“Awesome!”

Feng Miwan nearly jumped out of her chair.

But Xiong Yibai changed tack.

“However, there are a few rules you must follow.”

“Tell me! I’ll listen!”

Feng Miwan straightened up, adopting a serious listening posture.

“First, all operations must be gradual.”

“Start with the most basic simulator, or just sit statically in the race car to get familiar with the feel. Absolutely no high-intensity driving right away.”

“Second, strictly control the training duration. The first time back, no more than one hour max.

Increase it slowly afterward based on your response. Stop immediately if there’s any discomfort.”

“Third, and most importantly,” Xiong Yibai stared into her eyes, “if you feel any pain, you must stop. This isn’t a suggestion—it’s an order.”

“Your hand is only clinically healed right now; it’s far from ready to handle the high-intensity controls of racing. You know full well what the consequences of pushing yourself would be.”

“Got it! I promise to strictly follow the doctor’s orders! If anything feels off, I’ll pull out right away!”

Feng Miwan’s response was quick and resounding.

She suddenly seemed to think of something, blinking her eyes.

“Huh? Wait a sec, Yibai. Everything you just said… the simulator, static familiarization, high-intensity controls… how do you know so much about racing training?”

Xiong Yibai’s hand paused as she was about to pick up a journal.

She adjusted her glasses, avoiding direct contact with Feng Miwan’s probing gaze, and casually made up an excuse.

“Nothing strange about it.”

“Trauma rehabilitation involves preventing occupational diseases and restoring function across various professions. I’ve encountered cases for jobs that require precise operations or endure high loads.”

“Race car drivers are one of them. The relevant rehabilitation principles and precautions are all documented in professional literature—it’s normal to know about them.”

Her explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, as if she had simply delved into a wide range of knowledge out of professional habit.

However, only Xiong Yibai herself knew that after deciding to let Feng Miwan stay—or even earlier, after witnessing her reckless driving skills in the ambulance and searching her background online—

she had specifically looked up more professional literature and cases on racing training, especially for drivers in recovery from injuries.

She had even roughly studied the training regimens and intensity levels that race car drivers commonly followed.

This knowledge went beyond her usual practice.

But she had no intention of telling Feng Miwan about it.

Feng Miwan listened to her explanation. Though she felt something was slightly off, the reasoning was airtight, so she believed it about seventy or eighty percent. She sincerely exclaimed,

“Wow, Yibai, you’re amazing! Doctors have to know so much!”

Xiong Yibai changed the subject.

“Mm. Go train.”

“Come back and tell me how it went afterward.”

“You got it! Mission accomplished!”

Feng Miwan’s attention snapped back to the training ahead, and she happily dashed to her room to change clothes.

Xiong Yibai watched her back disappear through the door before slowly setting down the journal she hadn’t actually read a single word of.

Some attentions and knowledge beyond her duties—she hadn’t even sorted out the reasons for them herself, so how could she mention them to others?

Half an hour later, Feng Miwan emerged in a set of lightweight training gear, ready to head out.

Xiong Yibai handed her a yellow stress ball.

“Take this. During training breaks, or if your wrist starts feeling fatigued, do a few sets of relaxation exercises with it. Don’t let the muscles get too tense.”

“Mm!”

Feng Miwan took the little ball and stuffed it into her pocket.

She took a cab to the suburban Racing Team Base.

Inside the team base, the mechanics and team members crowded around when they saw her return, greeting her warmly.

“Sister Wan, is your hand better?”

“Little Wan, you’re finally back! How’s it feeling?”

“Take it slow, no rush!”

Feng Yuxiao was personally waiting by her race car, holding a newly adjusted training schedule.

“You’re here? How’s it feeling? No issues with your wrist?”

He looked his little sister up and down.

Feng Miwan grinned and flexed her wrist.

“No problem! Feeling great!”

“Give me the plan—let’s get started! I can’t wait!”

She settled into the race car simulator, feeling the intensely enveloping seat and the realistic screen before her.

When her left hand lightly gripped the steering wheel, a long-lost sense of reassurance washed over her.

Even though it was just a simulator, even though her right hand could only rest lightly on it without applying force for now, simply sitting there—feeling the roar of the engine and the undulations of the track on the screen—was enough to set her blood boiling.

Following the plan, she began her first recovery training: familiarizing herself with the track and maintaining her car sense. All operations were led by her left hand, with the right providing only the lightest assistance.

An hour passed quickly.

Though still not satisfied, Feng Miwan remembered Xiong Yibai’s instructions and ended the session right on time.

She climbed out of the simulator, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, but her eyes sparkled extraordinarily.

“Bro! It felt amazing! No issues with my wrist at all!”

Feng Yuxiao let out a breath of relief.

“Good! Keep it up tomorrow! We’ll ramp up gradually!”

Feng Miwan couldn’t wait to share the good news with one person.

She pulled out her phone.

“Reporting to Dr. Xiong! First day of adaptive training completed successfully! No discomfort in the wrist whatsoever! (^▽^)”

A quick reply came back.

“Mm. Good.”

Just three words, but as Feng Miwan stared at the screen, the corners of her mouth curved up uncontrollably.

Feng Yuxiao, watching his sister grinning foolishly at her phone, leaned over curiously.

“Who’re you texting? You look so happy.”

“Huh? No one!”

Feng Miwan turned off the screen and shoved the phone into her pocket, her denial as obvious as could be.

“Just… reporting my training progress to Yibai.”