Sweat ran down Jian Chen's face.
His arms trembled. His legs burned. Every fiber of his being was telling him to slow down, to take a break, to walk away from this crazy notion that he could remake himself by sheer force and daily suffering.
One more rep.
The barbell — just the bar, 20 kilograms of indignity — felt a thousand pounds. He had been lying on the bench press in Iron Will Fitness, a gym so ancient and grubby it made his family's apartment seem palatial. The paint was peeling. The equipment seemed to have come through a war. The air carried the scent of decades of sweat and failed aspiration.
Perfect.
"Come on, kid!" Coach Zhang's gruff voice cut through the fog of pain. "One more! Don't quit on me!"
It was Jian Chen who really bit the bullet and pressed on. His arms shook violently. The bar moved up an inch. Two inches. Halfway. Three-quarters.
I died once from weakness. Never again.
The bar locked out. He'd done it. Ten reps with just the bar.
Most people would laugh. Twenty kilograms? That's nothing. Beginners lift more than that.
But Jian Chen was not like most people. This body — thin, malnourished, worn down by decades of poverty — could hardly do it. And that was precisely why he was here.
Coach Zhang assisted him in racking the weight. "Not bad for a first timer. Most college kids give up after five."
Jian Chen held up his head, struggling to breathe. "How many more exercises?"
The old coach lifted his eyebrows. "You want to keep going? Kid, you just came through the hardest bit—"
"How many more?"
There was something in his voice that made Coach Zhang hesitate. The old man had trained people for thirty years. He had seen every kind — the inspired ones who gave up after a week, the lazy ones who never even started, the devoted ones who stayed around for months before life derailed them.
But this kid's eyes? They held something different. Something desperate. Something that definitely resembled a man who'd already perished once and wasn't about to squander his second opportunity.
"Squats next," Coach Zhang said slowly. "Then deadlifts. Then core work. Then cardio. At least two hours, as you requested."
"Let's go."
An hour and 45 minutes later, Jian Chen lay on the gym mat in a heap, his body playing its own symphony of pain. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. Could barely breathe.
This is what living feels like, he thought, looking at the water-stained ceiling. Pain. Growth. Progress.
Liam had never felt this. Liam had personal trainers he never used and home gyms he never set foot in, and perfect health he took for granted. When Liam died at twenty-three, his body had worked fine but his heart had declared itself unfit from the inside with stress and emptiness.
Jian Chen is going to build a body magnificent enough for the skills that this system gifted him.
[DING!]
His vision was filled with golden text:
DAILY MISSION COMPLETE: PHYSICAL TRAINING
[PROGRESS: 1/30 DAYS]
[REWARD: +10 FAME POINTS, +1 STAMINA]
[CURRENT FAME POINTS: 60]
[BODY CAPACITY: 30% → 32%]
[NOTE: Transformation begins with consistency. Miss a day, reset to 0/30.]
Two percent better than your last workout. Thirty days would leave him at full capacity — using every vector of his Level 100 Acting skill without being the weak body holding himself back.
Worth every second of pain.
"You done?" Coach Zhang loomed above him, with a towel.
"Yeah." Jian Chen took the towel and wiped his face. "Same time tomorrow."
"You sure? Most people need rest days—"
"Every day for thirty days. No exceptions."
Zhang studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright, kid. I believe you. But if you're serious about this, we have to discuss nutrition. You're too skinny. You eating enough?"
No, Jian Chen thought. Because we can hardly afford to eat. Because I skip meals so that Yu can eat more. Because poverty doesn't care about progress.
"I'll make it work," he said.
"Protein shakes, at minimum. Chicken, rice, eggs. Cheap but effective." The old coach folded his arms. "I've seen your type before. Determined. Driven. But determination doesn't build muscle. Food does. You just starve yourself training this hard, you will break down.'
"I understand."
"Do you?" Coach Zhang's voice was curiously soft. Because I've trained so many poor kids over the years. They come in here believing willpower is the answer. It's not. Your body needs fuel."
Jian Chen struggled to his feet, legs trembling. "I'll manage. Thank you, Coach."
But as he made his way toward the locker room, his mind was already doing calculations. His job saving children's lives, part-time, paid just enough for rent and food and tuition. The cost of the gym membership had sucked up most of his savings. Protein shakes and extra food?
I need money. Fast.
His phone buzzed. A message from Zhang Wei: "Dude, Professor Wang just opened up auditions for 'Chasing Dreams'! It's a real movie, with an actual budget and all. Supporting roles available. You should try out!"
Jian Chen stopped walking.
'Chasing Dreams.' He knew that film. As Liam, he'd noticed it in entertainment news — a mid-budget drama that turned out to be a sleeper hit, with careers borne.
His Acting skill was Level 100.
Perfect timing.
He texted back: "When?"
"Tomorrow afternoon, 2 PM. Main theater. But to be fair, Qin Hao has been telling people his family is connected to the production company. He's probably got a lock on it."
"We'll see about that."
The half-hour walk back to campus was sobering. Every step hurt. His legs felt like jelly. His arms dangled limply at his sides. People looked at him hobbling along, and they were probably thinking he had been in an accident.
That was only the first day, he thought. Twenty-nine more days of this.
But beneath that pain was something else. Something warm and satisfying. Progress. Growth. The knowledge that all of this sweat was leading toward something larger.
His phone rang. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Is this Jian Chen?" A professional female voice.
"Speaking."
"Hello, this is Liu Mei from Starlight Entertainment Agency. You were recommended to us by Professor Wang at the Beijing Film Academy. We're constantly on the lookout for bright young talent, and your professor said good things about you. Are you open to talking about representation?"
Jian Chen blinked. An agency? Already? He hadn't done anything yet.
Professor Wang must have passed along my information after class, he thought. Most likely goes for all the students out there.
"I got the call, and I appreciate it," he said cautiously, "but I'm not looking for representation at this point."
"Oh." She sounded surprised. This makes up one of the most challenging dilemmas for young lawyers — and is something most students would leap at an agency offer. "May I ask why?"
"I haven't proven myself yet. When I do, we can talk."
A pause. "That's... refreshingly honest. I imagine most people would accept any offer. Can I at least put you on file?"
"Sure."
"Excellent. And Mr. Jian? Wish you the best on whatever you been working on. I expect that we'll be hearing from you shortly."
She hung up.
[DING!]
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: FIRST INDUSTRY CONTACT (HIDDEN)
[REWARD: +50 FAME POINTS]
[CURRENT FAME POINTS: 110]
The system monitors everything, Jian Chen thought. Even phone calls.
He returned to campus in time for his next class — Screenwriting Fundamentals. He crept into the back row and tried not to wince every time he moved.
The professor, a woman in her fifties named Dr. Lin, was talking about three-act structure. Jian Chen became genuinely curious, his Level 100 Acting skill contextualizing and challenging everything being said.
He suddenly understood I don't just know how to act. I get story structure, character arc, emotional beats. The skill encompasses everything.
"Mr. Chen."
He looked up. Dr. Lin was looking at him expectantly. Everyone in the class had turned to look.
Shit. She asked me a question.
"I'm sorry, Professor. Could you repeat that?"
"I asked you to describe character-driven vs. plot-driven."
And his Level 100 skill supplied the answer instantly, with examples and nuanced understanding.
"Character-driven narratives are about internal journey and emotional change," he said plainly. "The story serves the character's development. In plot-driven narratives there is great emphasis on outward event and action, with characters basically reacting to events. Most successful films combine both: external conflict that spurs internal change."
Dr. Lin's eyebrows rose. "That's... excellent, Mr. Chen. Have you been studying ahead?"
"Just paying attention, Professor."
Whispers around him:
"When did Jian Chen become clever?"
"He never talks in class..."
"Maybe he's been studying more?"
After class, Dr. Lin summoned him in. "It's been 15 years since I've taught, Mr. Chen. That response was not in the textbook. That was genuine understanding."
"Thank you, Professor."
"I heard the auditions are tomorrow for 'Chasing Dreams.' Are you trying out?"
"I am."
She smiled. "Good. You should. I bet you will surprise people."
You have no idea how much.
Evening came. He limped home, each step a scream from his body. As he opened the door to their small apartment, the aroma of his mother's cooking washed over him like a warm embrace.
"Xiao Feng!" His mother came out of the kitchen and her face brightened. "You're late! I was worried!"
"Sorry, Ma. I was... working out."
"Working out?" His father glanced up from the newspaper. "At a gym?"
"Yes, Ba."
His parents exchanged glances. Gym memberships were expensive, and they didn't have the money.
"Xiao Feng," his mother said softly, "if you need money for school or —"
"I have it covered, Ma. I'm using my savings from my part-time job." He smiled at her concern. "I just want to be healthier. For you guys."
His mother's eyes misted. "You're such a good boy."
I'm not, he thought. I'm a thirty-year-old man in the body of a teen, receiving a second chance I have no right to. But I will spend every day of this life making you smile.
Dinner was simple — rice, vegetables, a bit of pork making the rounds to feed four people. In his former life as Liam, he'd dined at Michelin-star joints and felt nothing. The meal, eaten with his family in their cramped apartment, tasted better than anything he'd ever eaten.
"Ge, you're smiling," Xiao Yu said. "You smile a lot these days."
"I'm happy, Xiao Yu."
"Why?"
Because I died once and found out what matters. Because I have a family that loves me. Because every second of this second chance is a gift.
"Because I know how lucky I am," he said flatly.
He then went to their shared bedroom after dinner. Xiao Yu sat at the small desk, doing homework. He lay on his bed, looking at the ceiling, every muscle sore.
[SYSTEM STATUS UPDATE]
[HOST: Jian Chen]
[AGE: 18]
[NET WORTH: $847]
[FAME POINTS: 110]
[SKILLS ACQUIRED: 1]
[Acting - Rank 100 (Transcendent Mastery)]
[PHYSICAL CONDITION: None → Some Improvement]
[BODY CAPACITY: 32% (Improving)]
[MISSIONS ACTIVE: ]
[Daily: Physical Training (30/31 days completed)]
[Tomorrow: University Audition]
[RELATIONSHIPS: ]
[Family: Strong]
[Industry Contacts: 1]
Tomorrow's audition. His first real test.
Jian Chen thought that Qin Hao believed he has it locked down due to family connections. He's about to find out that every time talent trumps connections.
His phone buzzed. Another text from Zhang Wei: "BTW, Qin Hao's been telling every one the role is his. Claims that his uncle is on good terms with the show's producers. Just FYI."
In the darkness, Jian Chen smiled.
Let him think that. Makes the victory sweeter.
"Ge?" Xiao Yu's voice was soft. "Are you really okay? You've been acting different."
"I'm perfect, Xiao Yu."
"You keep saying that. But you seem... I don't know. Happier? But also more serious?"
He looked over his shoulder at her.' Twelve years old, so insightful, so intelligent. In the original timeline, maybe she had too much of a childhood too quickly, weighed down by poverty, with dreams crushed before they could bloom.
Not anymore.
"I just figured something out," he said. "About family. About squeezing every last drop out of each day. About how we don't have to waste the time we have."
She smiled. "That's very philosophical for bedtime."
"Get some sleep, Xiao Yu. School tomorrow."
"You too, Ge. You have that audition."
Jian Chen shut his eyes as she switched off her desk lamp and crawled under the covers. His body ached. His muscles burned. The next day held another punishing workout, followed by an audition that would stun all.
Day one complete, he thought. Twenty-nine more days of training. One audition that changes everything.