The plan of the day lies in the morning.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

Before six o’clock, the morning in Chen Village was already awakened by several rooster calls. Chen Jue opened his eyes, feeling a deep soreness all over his body. It must have been from not exercising for a long time, plus staying up late last night practicing the Boat Fist.

Still, after more than seven hours of sleep, his mind was unusually clear, without the foggy exhaustion he once felt going to work.

Instinctively, he glanced at his attribute panel. To his surprise, after just one night, his constitution had silently increased by another 0.01 point, rising from 1.05 to 1.06. The other stats remained unchanged.

“What’s going on?”

“Does sleeping add to my attributes?” Chen Jue was puzzled. After freshening up downstairs, he opened his laptop to search online.

After reading some fitness enthusiasts’ experiences, he learned that such mysterious increases in constitution were likely due to the body continuing to burn calories intensely after strenuous exercise, thereby slowly building physical strength.

“So that’s how it is!”

“I was wondering how I could gain attributes even in my sleep. It must be related to the Boat Fist I practiced before bed.” With his confusion resolved, Chen Jue picked up his phone, stuffed several hundred-yuan bills into his pocket, and went out in search of breakfast.

Having worked in Hang City, he’d grown used to not cooking—most of his meals were eaten outside.

Now, suddenly back in the countryside, he found it hard to adjust.

In all of Chen Village, not a single breakfast shop could be found!

Left with no choice, he strode down the concrete road, telling himself it was good exercise.

After about ten minutes, he finally arrived at the neighboring Lin Family Village.

Lin Family Village was larger, with over a thousand households, and felt livelier, with a small market and several eateries.

Along the roadside, steam rose from breakfast shops, attracting many villagers who, on their way to jobs in the city or nearby factories, sat down for a quick meal.

Chen Jue looked around, inhaled the nostalgic scent of traditional food, and ordered a large bowl of sticky rice, followed by a bowl of seaweed and egg soup.

Still unsatisfied, he added two large pork buns.

Sticky rice is a breakfast staple in Wenshi, steamed and topped with chopped fried dough sticks, a ladle of savory meat broth, and a sprinkle of fresh scallions—delicious beyond compare.

But sticky rice is heavy and slow to digest; unless you do manual labor, even a small bowl could keep you full for half a day.

Yet after last night’s long practice, Chen Jue’s body had burned through its reserves, and he finished everything in no time.

Patting his swollen belly, he felt both satisfied and aware that he ought to lose weight.

He stood 178 centimeters tall, weighing over 160 jin—more than 20 jin heavier than when he’d just graduated from college!

Years of office work and unhealthy habits had taken their toll.

But now, awakened to this attribute panel, Chen Jue was confident he could restore himself to peak condition—or perhaps even surpass his former self!

Breakfast cost 9.5 yuan: 1.5 for each pork bun, 5 for the sticky rice, and 1.5 for the soup.

That’s the rural price—had he been in the county seat, it would have been several yuan more.

Wenshi is famously expensive, after all; breakfast vendors are all hidden millionaires.

Still, making breakfast is hard-earned money, so Chen Jue said nothing further, paid with his phone, and continued through Lin Family Village, heading for the national highway two kilometers away.

“That has to be at least four or five kilometers in one go!”

“In school, I walked this road countless times to attend high school in the county. I never thought, after all these years, I’d have a chance to travel it again.” Chen Jue didn’t flag down the speeding minivans on the roadside.

After last night, he truly understood the value of a healthy body.

And those tangible increases in his attributes were addictive! He had no intention of spending a few yuan to ride the shuttle between villages.

Reaching National Highway 104, he watched the stream of cars and buses racing past and saw, in their silhouettes, an ordinary yet familiar life.

Whether heading to the city or the countryside, those setting out so early were surely bound for work or school—just as he once was—laboring for a handful of silver, for life and for a future, leaving home to struggle in the city.

But from yesterday on, Chen Jue had decided to leave behind his drifting, uncertain life.

The city was nice, but not a place to call home; the countryside, though humble, filled him with peace and ease.

“Maybe, deep down, I’m a country boy at heart,” Chen Jue mused, following National Highway 104 toward Panlong Town.

After another ten-plus minutes—almost a kilometer more—he finally saw the commercial street of the town up ahead. He entered a cheap furniture shop and inquired about a square wooden Eight Immortals table.

Last night, after watching some instructional videos, he learned that the Eight Immortals Stance, which complements Boat Fist, was best practiced atop such a table.

Boat Fist was, after all, a martial art born on fishing boats; without simulating the cramped quarters of a boat’s cabin, it would be hard to perfect.

There was a folding table in his old family home, but it was flimsy and would collapse if stood upon—far from suitable. A proper Eight Immortals table would be much better.

Yet to his surprise, not a single shop in town sold such tables.

Society had advanced—even in the countryside, homes were decorated like those in the city. Who still used such old-fashioned tables?

Only those with a deliberate Chinese aesthetic would choose solid wood dining tables; most people bought stone, marble, or even plastic tables.

Left with no other option, Chen Jue asked the shop owner to help him order a quality solid wood square table from the city’s furniture market.

The table cost over two thousand yuan, even after bargaining.

Ordered today, it would arrive the next day—delivery cost another two hundred, but at least Chen Jue wouldn’t have to move it himself.

Leaving the furniture shop, Chen Jue made his way to Panlong Town’s market.

It was not yet nine, but the market was already bustling, the air thick with the mingled scents of seafood, fresh produce, and the metallic tang of blood from butchering—pungent and overwhelming.

Since drifting to the city, Chen Jue hadn’t set foot in a market like this for ages. He wandered through the stalls, asking questions and picking out seafood, meat, vegetables, and eggs.

He even bought half a crispy roast duck at a deli by the entrance.

After all, training demanded a lot of energy, and good nutrition was essential.

Fortunately, as a child, Chen Jue had helped with the cooking at home in those lean years. His skills were modest, but they would suit his own tastes just fine.