The Presence Like a Hydraulic Press.

Looking at this group of unconvinced younger siblings and cousins, Fang Jun was so exasperated he laughed.

"Alright, all talk and no action is boring."

He simply pulled a red hundred-yuan note from his pocket and slapped it onto the table with a smack.

"I bet on Old Mo to win. Just this hundred bucks. Whoever disagrees and wants to bet on Brother Chen, put up twenty each. Dare to take the bet? If I lose, you guys can split this hundred!"

Fang Jun's move made the others look at each other, but the younger cousin in junior high wasn't intimidated at all. She took out two ten-yuan notes from her pocket and placed them on the table.

"Hmph! I still support Brother Chen! Brother Chen will definitely win!"

With someone taking the lead, the others seemed to be ignited, eagerly pulling out their pocket money.

"I also support Brother Chen."

"I bet on Brother Chen too!"

"Count me in, twenty!"

"Me too!"

Soon, a messy little pile of money accumulated on the table. There were twenties, tens, and even a few fives making up the numbers, adding up to over a hundred and something in total.

Right at this tense, hair-trigger moment, a steady voice sounded from the doorway.

"Oh, so lively?"

Everyone turned their heads in unison, only to see Fang Chen effortlessly carrying that heavy square mahogany table out by himself. He looked at the pile of money on the table, then at everyone's tense expressions, and raised an eyebrow.

"What are you guys doing? Pooling money for a gift for me?"

The younger cousin in junior high immediately said, "Brother Chen, we're cheering you on! Brother Jun bet that you can't beat Lin Mo, so we definitely have to support you."

These words made Fang Jun, who was standing to the side, feel a bit embarrassed, and he coughed dryly twice.

Fang Chen wasn't really angry. He just cast a sidelong glance at Fang Jun and snorted.

"You've got some nerve, kid. I'll just have to let you see the results of my workouts."

He turned his head, his gaze falling on Lin Mo. His usual laziness faded considerably, replaced by a touch of seriousness in his eyes.

He re-evaluated the man before him. Aside from that fleeting glimpse of his biceps, Lin Mo's physique definitely leaned toward the lean side. There really weren't many visible signs of systematic training.

"Alright, let's do this."

Fang Chen wasted no more words. He personally moved the table to the center of the crowd, spread his legs, and settled into a steady horse stance.

He firmly gripped the edge of the table with one hand and planted the elbow of his other arm solidly on the tabletop, striking a ready posture.

"Let's do this then."

Lin Mo didn't refuse. He walked straight over without much fuss, sat down casually, clasped Fang Chen's hand with his right hand, and similarly held onto the table with his left.

The moment their hands clasped firmly, Fang Chen's heart settled slightly.

Lin Mo's palm was very dry, without any calluses on his palm or knuckles. Gripping it felt like holding the hand of someone who lived a pampered life. What did this mean? It meant the other party didn't lift weights often!

Before the two even officially started, their arms were already taut, their wrists forming a delicate balance on the center line.

Fang Jun lightly placed his hand over their clasped hands, cleared his throat, and began his performance as the referee.

"Now, you can only start when I say go."

Fang Chen faintly felt the power transmitting from the hand he held.

Then, Fang Jun added another sentence, "Don't end it too quickly, give some face."

It was unclear who this remark was meant for.

"Three! Two! One! Go!" Fang Jun released his hand.

In a split second, Fang Chen tightened his core. Power surged from the soles of his feet through his spine, and then explosively channeled from his shoulder into his arm!

To hell with giving face, to hell with holding back. After seeing that muscle of Lin Mo's, he had long tossed those thoughts out the window.

There were only two strategies in arm wrestling: one was to wait for the opponent to exhaust their strength before applying force, and the other was to instantly slam the opponent down with the speed of lightning.

Against ordinary opponents, Fang Chen usually used the first method.

Because that made him look like he was handling it with ease.

But not today. This Lin Mo really seemed to have something up his sleeve; one could tell just by looking at his muscles.

He pressed his entire center of gravity forward, the veins on his neck popping out one by one, his face flushing red from extreme exertion.

However, the overwhelming victory he had anticipated did not occur.

Their clasped hands remained completely motionless, as if nailed to the center line.

His left hand was already pressing dead hard against the table for leverage.

No, it wasn't completely motionless.

Under Fang Chen's all-out explosive force, that hand... merely shifted an incredibly slow, minuscule fraction toward his direction, so slight it could almost be ignored.

Fang Chen's pupils contracted slightly.

How is this possible?!

His bench press weight at the gym was outstanding even among gym-goers of the same level.

Right in the moment his mind was reeling, a power as steady as a mountain pushed back from the opposite side.

It wasn't a sudden, fierce burst, but a continuous, unstoppable crushing force.

Fang Chen felt as if he wasn't gripping a hand, but a hydraulic press that was slowly starting up.

"Brother Chen..."

The little cousin's cheering weakened, turning into a gasp of surprise.

The spectating Fang family relatives had looked over early on, and their hushed murmurs abruptly ceased.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Fang Chen's heavily muscled arm began to be pressed down in the opposite direction, inch by inch, at a visible speed.

Wasn't this exactly his favorite way to torture his opponents!

Using absolute strength to grind away the opponent's will and energy bit by bit!

Fang Chen gritted his teeth, the muscle fibers in his arm struggling to hold on. He even wanted to use his body weight to resist, but his opponent's strength was like a bottomless abyss. No matter how he struggled, it was all in vain.

Smack!

A crisp sound rang out, exceptionally piercing in the bustling ancestral hall.

The back of Fang Chen's hand was pinned dead against the cold tabletop.

Fang Chen stared wide-eyed at his hand pressed against the table, his mind completely blank.

Lin Mo let go and casually shook his wrist, as if he had merely unscrewed a slightly tight bottle cap.

"Maybe Brother Chen had a bit of alcohol during the meal just now. Alcohol makes the muscle pump weaker."

Lin Mo's words left Fang Chen momentarily stunned. Then, he shook his head. "No, you're just stronger than me. I couldn't resist at all. Even if I hadn't drunk anything, I still wouldn't be a match for you."

"I knew it, Old Mo is an absolute freak! I've never seen anyone with greater strength than him," Fang Jun couldn't help but exclaim.

And Fang Chen couldn't resist patting Lin Mo's shoulder.

"With strength like yours, your bench press must be incredible."

Lin Mo shook his head. "I've never tried. But there's a big difference between arm wrestling and things like bench pressing or deadlifting. I might just be particularly good in this specific area."

Seeing Lin Mo being so modest, Fang Jun originally wanted to say something more, but was stopped by a glance from Lin Mo.

However, after Fang Chen returned to their table, a short while later, several people suddenly stood up and walked toward Lin Mo.

"Come, come, come, let's have an arm wrestling match too..."

Lin Mo immediately shot a pleading look at Fang Jun for help.

Yet Fang Jun didn't dare to look back at Lin Mo. He obediently sat to the side with An Yuexin, watching Lin Mo versus his own family members.