3 Weighed and Launched into the Air

Weigh-ins for UFC fighters typically take place between morning and noon, but the real action is on Saturday night. The official weigh-in window, scheduled from Friday morning until noon, draws those who've successfully shed their weight—earlier is better, as every minute counts for athletes battling dehydration and hunger.

That brief advantage offers one more minute to recover, a vital edge when the stakes are immense. If a fighter misses their weight, it spells disaster. Some will even push their limits, stepping on the scale at the last possible moment.

For Ye Chen, the weight loss journey exceeded even his expectations, and surprisingly, the process wasn't grueling—thanks to the advantages of a simulation space. The toughest challenge? Sticking to his diet.

Aside from devoting himself to training and trimming down over the past ten days, he also launched accounts on Douyin and XiaoTV, and had someone set up his Instagram. He's ready to cultivate his fan base, posting videos of his daily grind and training routines.

While Ye Chen's following has started to grow—6,000 on Douyin and 2,000 on XiaoTV—it's humble, a reflection of his in-ring absence. Only a stir with rival Li Zhengyong has drummed up attention—after all, a viral moment in the hotel lobby sent waves through the online community.

The chaotic exchange at the hotel exploded across social media, drawing viewers eager for drama. Both fighters bore the brunt of harsh criticism, not because of their skills, but due to the fan frenzy surrounding them. Li Zhengyong's extreme antics infuriated many, while Ye Chen found himself on the receiving end of vitriol simply because he stood in the spotlight.

Sure, there were supporters in the comment sections, but they were thinly veiled by negativity. Comments like, "Brother, promise me you'll go home and train harder. The UFC isn't for you," and "You don't have a team; you're just using tricks," flooded his posts.

The most belittling? One prediction proclaimed, "You won't survive thirty seconds." Despite the barrage of criticism, Ye Chen brushed it off, intent on proving himself within the octagon. Countless simulations against Lin Long had sharpened his skills to a knife's edge. The feedback he received didn't just refine his technique—it cemented muscle memory for even more precise execution.

After dedicating endless hours to training, he'd devised a winning strategy against Li Zhengyong's aggressive style. In the simulation, he'd dispatched Li Zhengyong with a flurry of tactics, leaving the faster fighter reeling.

Li's explosive start may thrill the audience, especially casual fans drawn to the brutal spectacle, but without a quick finish, he risks losing his rhythm—and energy. Drawing this out could spell opportunity for Ye Chen, who planned to match Li's pace with precision and agility.

During this pivotal weigh-in, the scale revealed Ye Chen's weight: "155.5 pounds." Relief washed over him as he stepped down, surrounded by a sea of media cameras capturing his every move.

The venue buzzed with commentary: "Is Ye Chen too skinny? He looks like he might pass out!" and "How did he pass at 155.5? Shouldn't it be 155?" But savvy fans clarified: "It's a non-title fight, they allow a one-pound variation."

Then it was time for Li Zhengyong, whose muscles rippled under the lights, a living testament to his rigorous training. "He looks unbeatable!" the whispers ignited.

After giving their weights, Ye Chen retreated backstage, eagerly consuming water and food—his much-needed fuel. On the taxi ride home, the driver recognized him instantly. "Hey, aren't you Ye Chen?" The driver, a die-hard fight fan, surely knew about his recent altercation and couldn't hide his enthusiasm.

"Yep, that's me," Ye Chen replied, chuckling as he munched away, not realizing he had a dedicated strategist behind the wheel, barking out tactics to ensure his victory.

What stood out to Ye Chen more than anything was the palpable desire of the fans. There was a fierce hunger for him to emerge victorious on the weekend. He promised he would—not just to the driver but to the legion of supporters waiting for him to shine.

Upon arriving home, Ye Chen dove headfirst into simulated training while finishing his meal. "Loopholes, loopholes—one minute and thirty seconds for a KO? I can do faster..." he mused, his focus locked on the action unfolding in the simulated octagon. As Li Zhengyong feigned a quick jab, Ye Chen paused, chopsticks in hand. "Hey…"