Life Game Experience Panel

Outside the bus window, the city nightscape shimmered like flowing light.

Fang Cheng leaned against the cold backrest of the bus seat.

His pupils glimmered with an unusual light.

Before his eyes, a pale blue screen slowly unfolded.

Yet the passengers seated beside him noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

Character Panel

Name: Fang Cheng

Age: 23

Strength: 7

Agility: 9

Constitution: 8

Spirit: 18

Attribute Points: 0

...

Talent Panel

Beauty (Green, Excellent)

...

Skill Panel

Speed Reading Lv1 (19/250)

Focus Lv1 (53/250)

Cooking Lv0 (27/100)

Cleaning Lv0 (68/100)

Boxing Lv0 (54/100)

...

Fang Cheng was a transmigrator.

Strictly speaking, he had been reincarnated, and only awakened the memories of his past life two months ago.

This game-character-like panel had naturally appeared alongside the recovery of his past-life memories.

Like the virtual optical computers in science fiction novels, it took the form of a translucent screen that only its host could see.

Fang Cheng called it the "Life Game Experience Panel."

After some time spent exploring and experimenting, he had roughly figured out how it worked.

As long as he devoted himself wholeheartedly to something, there was a chance he would unlock a skill bar on the panel.

The odds depended on his mastery of the basic skills. The more proficient he was, the greater the chance.

Afterward, by continuously practicing skills related to that ability, he could keep gaining experience and level up.

And every time a skill leveled up, he could receive a specialized Enhancement Reward.

Such as related attribute points, or perhaps Skill Special Effects...

So far, the greatest benefit this cheat had given Fang Cheng was reigniting his passion for learning.

He had even become more diligent and disciplined than he had been in school.

Through more than a month of self-study for the graduate entrance examination, Fang Cheng had unlocked the two skills "Speed Reading" and "Focus."

In his daily life, he had also unlocked the "Cooking" skill.

Later, he changed part-time jobs and specifically found work at a Boxing Club.

Partly out of concern for his safety, hoping to pick up some self-defense skills for free, and partly to test an idea.

Other than academic and life skills, could he unlock other types of skills as well?

The facts proved Fang Cheng's idea was correct.

"One real fight gave me 20 experience points."

"That's far more efficient than practicing alone..."

Fang Cheng's eyes flashed slightly as he closed the panel.

His gaze then fell on the skinned, bleeding knuckles of his right hand.

He had gotten them from punching that drunkard in the face.

Force was transmitted both ways. Hitting someone also meant bearing part of the damage yourself.

That was why boxers wore Boxing Gloves during training, mainly to reduce the risk of injury.

Fang Cheng rubbed his slightly sore wrist joint.

"My body is still too fragile..."

Leveling up "Speed Reading" and "Focus" had earned him a total of five attribute points.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of the skills themselves, they could only be added to his Spirit Attribute.

After all, it was easy to imagine becoming an energetic bookworm.

Getting stronger through reading and writing and turning into a Muscle Man was unrealistic.

Otherwise, he could have considered raising his Constitution first.

Fang Cheng took a Deep Breath and gradually calmed his violently pounding heart.

After being a shut-in for two lifetimes, this was the first time he had seriously fought someone—and defeated them.

He could not help feeling somewhat exhilarated, and it also gave him a little inexplicable confidence.

"Ding-dong."

"Old Factory Street has arrived. Please take your belongings and exit through the rear door. Please watch your step when getting off..."

The bus's stop announcement sounded.

Fang Cheng slung his satchel over his back and got off.

He raised his head and glanced at the surroundings, where streetlights were sparse and garbage lay piled everywhere.

Then he crossed the road and entered an even narrower, darker alley.

The houses on both sides were dilapidated, their electrical wires tangled, packed tightly against one another.

Unauthorized extensions and sheds could be seen everywhere, along with little advertisements selling all kinds of counterfeit goods and contraband.

This street was called Old Factory Street, and most of the surrounding buildings had been rebuilt during the early postwar period.

Fifty years of peace had brought rapid economic development to the entire country and propelled society forward.

A large population had continuously poured into Eastern Capital, the political and economic center, causing an extreme shortage of housing.

Jiangbei, this old urban district, had become an ideal gathering place for migrant workers and low-income groups because its buildings and facilities were outdated and rents were relatively cheap.

Fang Cheng stopped in front of a Sleeve Building made of red bricks.

He looked up.

The corridor below was already packed with bicycles and electric scooters brought back by people returning from work, nearly blocking the way completely.

The windows of the nine-story building alternated between light and dark, while the crying of children and the clattering of housewives stir-frying with spatulas occasionally drifted out.

Fang Cheng climbed the stairs one step at a time, the bulbs missing from their fixtures.

When he reached the top floor, he found several iron basins in the corridor.

Sparks glowed within them, and half-burned paper ash gave off black smoke.

Most households here had installed anti-theft Iron Gates.

They were the old-fashioned sliding folding kind, with several iron bars connected from top to bottom.

In summer, if residents were home, they would usually open the inner door and close the iron gate instead, allowing the air to circulate.

But in winter, hardly anyone did that.

At night, the enclosed corridor on both sides received little light, making it always feel gloomy and eerie.

Fang Cheng scanned the area in confusion, took out his key from his pocket, and walked toward his own door.

Suddenly, the only neighboring home with light spilling out gave a rattling sound as its iron gate was pulled open.

A plump middle-aged woman poked her head out, waved, and called out:

"A Cheng, wait a moment."

She seemed to have been waiting for a long time, then turned and shouted into the room:

"Xiumei, hurry and bring the spirit money and paper clothes we prepared on the table!"

"Okay."

At the clear response, a quiet girl wearing a headband ran out.

She handed the items to the woman, glanced up at Fang Cheng, then immediately lowered her head and retreated back inside.

"Your mother really is something. She's so busy that she forgot what day it is today."

The woman stuffed a large bundle of carefully folded paper clothes and gold ingots into Fang Cheng's hands.

Then she reminded him with concern:

"Burn these when you get back, then light an incense stick for your father. Oh, right, do you still have incense and candles at home?"

"I do. Thank you, Auntie He."

Fang Cheng accepted them with both hands, a grateful smile appearing on his face.

He recalled that today should be the Cold Clothes Festival, when people made sacrifices to their ancestors.

Life in the city moved quickly now, and the younger generation rarely celebrated traditional festivals like this anymore.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, the two left it at that.

Holding the paper offerings, Fang Cheng opened the iron door covered in advertisements.

Click. The incandescent lamp in the entrance hall lit up.

An ordinary home filled with the atmosphere of an earlier era came into view.

The home was not large.

The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all connected, totaling no more than thirty square meters.

The old tables and chairs and the floor, whose paint had long peeled away, were still scrubbed clean and gleaming.

The other furniture and decorations were also arranged neatly. It was clear someone had tidied and cleaned recently.

Fang Cheng knew his mother had come back.

His maternal grandfather had stomach cancer and had come from the countryside to Eastern Capital for hospitalization and chemotherapy.

Outside of work, she and his uncle took turns staying with him and caring for him.

She was run ragged every day, and recently had rarely been able to come home for a peaceful night's sleep.

Fang Cheng silently changed his shoes and entered the house.

Stepping across the floorboards that creaked softly beneath his feet, he walked to the cabinet holding the TV.

A framed photo stood there, showing a young couple holding a baby barely a month old.

The woman was beautiful and gentle, while the man was handsome and cheerful. The happiness in their eyes seemed able to pass through the glass and reach the outside world.

The frame had likewise been wiped spotlessly clean, and a small bronze incense burner had been deliberately placed before it.

The incense in the burner had long since burned to the end, leaving only the bamboo sticks at the bottom.

Fang Cheng opened the bottom drawer of the cabinet and searched carefully.

As he rummaged through it, an old newspaper buried beneath miscellaneous items was revealed.

On the yellowed paper surface was half a news headline.

"...Killer Demon shoots himself, bloody secrets buried in a sea of fire..."

At last, he found the remaining half bundle of incense sticks.

Fang Cheng pulled out three, lit them again, and inserted them into the burner.

Then, carrying a damaged white tin basin, he squatted outside the door and burned the paper clothes and gold ingots one by one.

Watching the smoke and sparks constantly rise, Fang Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly.

In the darkness, the flames lit his face crimson, his pupils flickering.

As if awakening certain memories that had been sealed away for a long time.

After a while, the sacrifice was over.

Fang Cheng returned inside, washed up briefly, and entered the bedroom.

He did not go to sleep and rest. Instead, he prepared to begin studying.

This bedroom-study was only six square meters.

The cramped space had no toys or decorations, nor were there any posters of female stars on the walls.

Stacks of conspicuous academic works covered the desk: World History, The Prince, Criminal Psychology, and more.

The cover of one open book read General Principles of Criminal Law.

Fang Cheng sat down, picked up the alarm clock, and glanced at the time.

10:29.

"I can study for another hour and a half."

He first set the timer, then took a deep breath.

At the same time, he silently recited in his heart:

"Focus Skill, activate!"

"Speed Reading Skill, activate!"

In an instant, Fang Cheng's gaze became calm, as though a button had been pressed inside his mind.

All the restless, distracting thoughts from before were swept beyond the clouds.

Every noise reaching his ears—the honking of cars, the crying of babies—gradually faded away and disappeared...

Like an Old Monk meditating, Fang Cheng's face became utterly serene, though his pupils moved rapidly.

Almost every three or four seconds, his fingers turned a page.

His eyes shone brightly, like a laser printer constantly scanning and entering the contents of the textbook.

The alarm clock's second hand ticked forward, one beat at a time.

The thick book's pages kept turning, the number remaining dwindling by the second.

Then suddenly—

Fang Cheng's brow furrowed tightly, pain showing on his face.

Almost at the same time, the Alarm Clock let out a piercing "ring-ring-ring."

He immediately tossed aside the book and pressed the shutoff button.

Then he vigorously rubbed his brow and temples with both hands, trying to ease the swelling ache in his head.

Only several minutes later did his tense expression relax again, and he let out a long breath.

Before his eyes, lines of small text scrolled into view.

Your Focus Skill Experience +1

Your Speed Reading Skill Experience +1

Your Focus Skill Experience +2

Your Speed Reading Skill Experience +2

Warning! You have slightly overdrawn your spirit. Your physical condition is poor. Please rest.

"Looks like using both skills at once can only last an hour at most..."

Fang Cheng's face was somewhat pale as he continued rubbing his forehead slowly.

After "Focus" and "Speed Reading" had leveled up to Level 1, their effects had indeed become far more noticeable.

Correspondingly, the energy they consumed, like Experience Points, increased linearly in half-hour intervals.

The exact difference should be related to the Spirit Attribute.

Fang Cheng closed his eyes and reflected briefly, a pleased look appearing on his face.

Just now, he had read at a blistering pace.

He had actually managed to finish more than a thousand pages of dense legal doctrines and regulations.

In the past, that would have been pure fantasy.

Though he had only skimmed through it and remembered the general outline.

But that was fine. He could keep rereading it closely over the next few times, thinking it through and properly digesting it.

Reviewing the old to gain new insights—that was what it meant.

After resting a while, Fang Cheng began reviewing from the first page.

But this time, perhaps because he was too mentally exhausted, or perhaps because distracting thoughts had flared back up.

Forget maintaining his skill-using state—even his usual level of concentration while studying was beyond him.

"Phew—"

Fang Cheng simply closed the book, picked up the eye drops, and put a few drops into the sore corners of his eyes.

As he closed his eyes, the Light Blue screen emerged in his mind again.

Looking At the various skills listed on the Panel, his Thoughts drifted.

These were all the gains he had made over the past two months.

Different skills represented different paths of development.

Cooking? Keep leveling it up and become a master chef, a state-banquet chef, the God of Cookery?

Cleaning? Become a Cleaning expert and start a Cleaning Company?

Boxing? Compete professionally, win championships in every event, and contend for the world Boxing King title?

A person's energy was ultimately limited. Career planning also required distinguishing priorities and choosing where to focus.

Which path should he take in the future?

Ever since he had successfully unlocked the "Boxing" skill a week ago, this question had lingered in Fang Cheng's mind.

Take the Graduate Entrance Examination, become a graduate student, then earn a master's degree.

Afterward, use his qualifications to join a company's legal department or work at a law firm.

Or stay at the university, gradually earn promotions in academic rank, and become a lecturer, associate professor, then professor...

If he did not have this cheat, choosing this path would undoubtedly suit his own circumstances and family background best.

"But—"

"What if this world isn't as ordinary as it looks?"

Fang Cheng suddenly recalled the evening of his sixth birthday.

His father's resolute back as he Concealed a gun and walked out the door.

And those final words:

"Live well. Being one of Ordinary People is enough!"

The night grew deeper, waves of cold washing over him.

Fang Cheng rubbed his hands together and breathed warm air into them.

Looking At the chaotic neon lights and the dark, cold City Outside the Window, his eyes Flickered as thoughts surged through his mind.

Money, power, law, social class, career...

Those were ultimately external things imposed by human society.

"What if I could evolve without limit, break through the body's restrictions, and transcend all social Rules...?"

Fang Cheng's eyes burned like flames, as though a slumbering beast within his heart was awakening.

No matter what choices he would face in the future, a sufficiently powerful body would clearly be his greatest trump card.

With that thought, he Picked Up a ballpoint pen and spread open his diary.

The Pen Tip scratched softly across the paper, writing down a line.

"Fitness plan, Prisoner Training..."