001: The Attribute Panel of the Useless Chicken Rib

On a city-to-countryside bus heading toward the outskirts, Chen Jue gazed out at the endless green rice fields retreating alongside the road.

The neatly planted rice paddies, the gurgling streams, the broad asphalt roads—occasionally, a row of freshly built yellow-walled houses would appear by the roadside, likely newly constructed villages for families relocated from some remote mountain valley.

The economy in Jiangsu and Zhejiang was thriving, and the construction of new countryside communities was in full swing. There were even charging stations and basketball courts; the environment seemed in no way inferior to urban neighborhoods.

Ultimately, the core reason was that city housing prices were simply too high—most people from rural areas couldn't afford to buy property in the city. The best they could do was build villa-like houses in the suburbs, passing them down to the next generation.

But after a brief look, Chen Jue’s interest in the scenery was quickly spent. He turned his attention to the attribute panel that had awakened in his mind less than three days ago:

Player: Chen Jue

Age: 27

Strength: 0.83

Agility: 0.74

Intelligence: 1.22

Constitution: 0.98

Assignable Attribute Points: 0.05

(Reference: The average attribute for a standard adult male is 1 point.)

That was the entirety of the attribute panel—extremely simple, but sufficient to reflect Chen Jue’s physical condition.

“So what if I’ve awakened one of those system panels that novels have written to death?” he thought.

“This is the real world. There’s no supernatural power here…” Chen Jue couldn’t help but mock himself inwardly.

When he first acquired the panel, he’d been elated, thinking at last his dreary life had taken a turn for the better.

But three days had passed, and his life hadn’t changed much at all. The excitement over the attribute panel had faded significantly.

…

The city bus rumbled on, stopping and starting, until it finally halted at a place called Panlong Town—Chen Jue’s childhood home.

After more than a decade away, out in the wider world, he had finally returned to this place from the depths of his memory.

But his real home wasn’t in Panlong Town itself—it was in Chen Village, several kilometers further on.

After disembarking, dragging a large suitcase behind him, Chen Jue flagged down a seven-seater minivan that ferried passengers between the villages.

Panlong Town governed eight villages, most of them tucked among the hills. The distances seemed short, but walking would leave blisters on your toes.

So, there were always a few minivans waiting by the bus stop to take people to the villages.

When Chen Jue was a boy, he’d taken diesel-powered tricycles—rickshaws with a diesel engine. Those things were so wobbly they were prone to tipping over and had been banned years ago.

He agreed on a fare of seven yuan and climbed in with his luggage. The driver was a wiry old man in his fifties or sixties, his face vaguely familiar—obviously someone Chen Jue had ridden with before, though this time the old fellow had traded his tricycle for a van.

Inside the van, besides Chen Jue and his suitcase, there were two elderly women, simply dressed and carrying plastic bags of medicine—probably just back from the township clinic.

Chen Jue chatted with the driver about the changes in Panlong Town, exchanged a few words with the old ladies, and watched as the scenery outside the window slid by.

The asphalt road from the town gave way to a bumpy, winding concrete mountain path. With twists and turns, the van took less than twenty minutes to deliver Chen Jue to his old home in Chen Village.

After scanning a code to pay the seven yuan fare, Chen Jue got out. Looking around at the sparsely populated countryside, he couldn’t help but sigh at the passage of time and the changes wrought by the years.

Once, Chen Village had been the largest and most populous for miles around.

Of the two hundred or so registered households, most had now moved to new villages along the national highway.

Those with money had settled in the city; those who remained were mostly elderly, the sick, or the impoverished.

As Chen Jue stepped off the van, several old men chatting at the village store glanced his way, puzzled.

“Young man, whose child are you?”

“My eyes aren’t as good as they used to be—I can’t make you out!”

Chen Jue didn’t hide his identity, telling them he was Chen Yan’s grandson. At that, the old men’s faces lit up with recognition.

“Oh! So you’re Chen Yan’s grandson! You’ve grown so much!”

“Are you back from school for the holidays?”

“Haven’t seen you in years!” The old men’s words were full of nostalgia.

Chen Jue chatted with them for a while, then asked the shopkeeper for an address and phone number to use as his default delivery point for parcels. At last, he dragged his suitcase home to his family’s house.

The house consisted of two cement buildings, two stories each, with a combined area of over 140 square meters. The main structure was more than forty years old.

A decade ago, the house had been renovated: the exterior painted white, the interior tiled, wooden floors laid on the second floor, and aluminum alloy doors and windows installed. Inside, there was electricity, plumbing, internet, air conditioning, and a gas stove—everything one could need.

But after years without residents, a thick layer of dust had settled everywhere.

Chen Jue took a key from his backpack and opened the door. He started by throwing open all the windows upstairs and down to air the place out, then grabbed a plastic broom, bucket, and rag, and began cleaning.

It took him over four hours to get the place barely clean.

As for the sofas and mattresses—though covered with plastic, after all these years the stuffing inside was damp and moldy. Chen Jue could only take them apart and haul everything out for a thorough wash and airing.

“Looks like I’ll be sleeping on a hard board tonight,” he muttered.

Wiping sweat from his brow, he glanced again at his attribute panel.

Where once there was only 0.05 assignable attribute points, it now showed 0.06—an increase of 0.01. Chen Jue understood this was the result of his hard work.

Since awakening the panel, he’d tried countless ways to earn assignable points.

He’d discovered that any activity which left his body genuinely fatigued—whether hard labor or intense exercise—would accumulate attribute points.

Each time only yielded 0.01 points, but in three days he’d managed to save up 0.06.

“Maybe I should try adding a point?”

Finding a small stool, Chen Jue sat down to rest for a while, unscrewed a bottle of mineral water, and took several long gulps.

Except for his intelligence, all his attributes were below the standard adult male’s average of 1 point.

He guessed this was due to years spent sitting in an office and indulging in unhealthy habits, leading to a decline in physical fitness.

Still, the labor of the past few days had nudged his strength, agility, and constitution up a bit.

“Perhaps I should add to constitution first.”

“Constitution affects health, boosts vitality, improves recovery, and increases resistance to fatigue and injury. After all this cleaning, I am tired—let’s see what happens if I add to constitution.”

Focusing on the 0.98 constitution stat, he allocated the full 0.06 points.

“Constitution: 0.98 increased to 1.04.”

As the notification flashed by, Chen Jue felt a sudden heat rush through his body; the fatigue and soreness in his limbs eased, and even his breathing grew deeper and more steady.