Chapter 1

Domestic daily film and television composite world.

Beijing.

No. 301, 3rd Floor, Building 17, Xiangcun Huayuan Community.

Monday, August 29, 2011.

“Zhengzheng, today’s the first day of senior year—get up! Your brother’s already up and gone for his morning practice. Hurry up, don’t wait to be nagged. Wash up and go to school with him; buy some breakfast on the way…”

Inside her bedroom, a delicate girl opened her eyes, hearing her mother’s repeated reminders. She reluctantly grunted, then buried her head under the covers and let out a frustrated scream once she heard the door shut.

“This is so annoying! He Chen is not my brother!!!”

After venting, she glanced outside at the daylight, sighed, and got up quickly to wash and change into her Chunfeng Middle School uniform. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and went downstairs, where she saw a crowd gathered far off beneath a tall pine tree, pointing and laughing.

She immediately wore an embarrassed, humiliated expression.

Because she knew exactly what they were looking at.

She lowered her head, trying to hurry past, when someone called out: “Ruan Liuzheng, He Chen’s still practicing—aren’t you waiting for him?”

Ruan Liuzheng looked up and saw Qian Sanyi, Chunfeng Middle School’s famous top student, straddling a mountain bike at the corner, watching the leaping figure beneath the pine tree with a half-smile on his face.

Ruan Liuzheng had no choice. Worried he’d blab to her mom about her not waiting for He Chen, she walked over and stood beside him, gazing at the boy surrounded by onlookers, still calmly performing exaggerated movements beneath the pine.

Her expression was deeply complicated.

He was a boy with thick eyebrows and bright eyes, radiating fierce vitality. Standing in the morning light, his own faint glow mingled with the sunlight, making him easy to admire.

But only if he didn’t perform those humiliating moves in public.

Sometimes he stretched his arms wide backward and circled the pine tree; sometimes he stood on one foot, bent over, flapping his arms up and down like wings.

These alone were embarrassing enough—especially since Emperor Jiajing from the Ming Dynasty 1566 had famously demonstrated these exact motions, making them even funnier.

Yet He Chen paid no attention to any of it. He practiced diligently, over and over, until he finished his morning routine. As he pretended to gather his energy, his mouth uttered, as Ruan Liuzheng expected, the same shameless recitation.

“My form resembles the crane’s grace, two scrolls of sutras beneath a thousand pines. I came to ask the Dao—no words remain: clouds in the blue sky, water in the bottle.”

“Bravo!”

His calm composure finally stirred the crowd into thunderous applause—whether genuine or mocking, the clapping never stopped.

“He Chen, drink some water!” A petite girl in Chunfeng Middle School uniform, wearing glasses, clapped wildly and handed him a bottle.

This made Ruan Liuzheng and Qian Sanyi, hiding around the corner, frown.

“Thanks.” He Chen accepted the Wahaha purified water without hesitation, took a sip, and turned his gaze toward the two watching from afar.

The little girl followed his gaze, saw them, and waved enthusiastically: “Disciple! Ruan Liuzheng! You’re here too? Let’s go to school together!”

Faced with this oblivious girl, Ruan Liuzheng and Qian Sanyi were both exasperated, but nodded anyway. They watched as He Chen carefully placed the two stacks of books he’d deliberately left beneath the pine tree into his backpack.

Ruan Liuzheng had complained about this countless times, but He Chen insisted it was ritual—he had to match the recitation, and if he could replicate it exactly, he would.

Just like how he refused to practice at home and insisted on finding a pine tree, risking public ridicule, to train beneath it.

He Chen rode up on his bicycle.

The little girl, Lin Miaomiao, pedaled hard to catch up, stopped in front of them, and banged her whiteboard loudly: “Ruan Liuzheng, hop on! I’ll give you a ride!”

“Forget it, Lin Miaomiao—you can barely manage yourself!” Qian Sanyi scoffed. “You want to carry someone too?”

“Get on!” He Chen smiled, calling to his reluctant adoptive sister, and warned her before she could refuse: “It’s not far to school, but still a few miles.”

“Ruan Liuzheng, you don’t want to ride?” Lin Miaomiao, seeing her hesitation, jumped in: “Then I’ll give you my bike—I’ll ride behind He Chen. Hehe, saves me energy!”

“Lin Miaomiao, today’s just enrollment. Tomorrow’s the senior year motivational assembly. Do you really want your parents called today?” Qian Sanyi murmured dryly.

“Ruan Liuzheng and He Chen are siblings—riding together is fine. But if you show up like that, the teachers will yank you off at the gate. You believe me?”

“You’re such a buzzkill!” Lin Miaomiao knew it was true. She slumped, defeated.

Ruan Liuzheng finally climbed onto He Chen’s bike seat. Three bicycles rode out of the community in line, heading toward Chunfeng Middle School.

“Can’t you stop practicing this? At least don’t do it in public?” Ruan Liuzheng sat behind him, breathing in the male scent carried by the wind. She tugged his sleeve, whispering a plea.

“Still not used to it? Still embarrassed?” He Chen chuckled knowingly, then refused as always.

Her fleeting, strange emotion vanished instantly, crushed beneath his indifference. She wanted to jump off and refuse to ride this awful guy’s bike.

Practicing this in summer was one thing—doing it after school started? The humiliation was worse.

He Chen didn’t need to turn around to know his adoptive sister’s expression and mood. He showed no reaction.

Even if she had a face called “Little Liu Yifei”—likely the heroine of some domestic melodrama.

But compared to Dao cultivation and immortality, girls only slowed down his draw.

Not even the real Liu Yifei begging him to stop would change his mind.

After buying breakfast at a roadside stall and eating, he ignored Ruan Liuzheng’s expression, ate while sinking his mind into his system panel.

System name: Seasonal Superpower Refresh System

Host: He Chen

Age: 17 (17/35+)

Autumn 2011 Superpower: Crane Calculation, Turtle Longevity

Innate Divine Skill: None

Correct!

He Chen was a transmigrator with a system.

He’d only arrived in this seemingly ordinary domestic Chinese film-and-TV world less than a month ago.

After experimenting, he learned the system refreshed a new superpower every season. If used properly, it could become his innate divine skill—granting permanent access.

Otherwise, when the season changed, the power vanished.

This first superpower, Crane Calculation, Turtle Longevity, came with two sets of techniques: Immortal Crane Method and Turtle Breathing Method.

The Immortal Crane Method was exactly the one Emperor Jiajing practiced in Ming Dynasty 1566.

Jiajing made it look like a joke, even madness—but every time He Chen practiced it seriously, the system showed a +1 day lifespan notification.

The Turtle Breathing Method worked the same way—both were Daoist Wudang qigong.

Practicing one set of Immortal Crane Method in the morning and evening, and one set of Turtle Breathing Method at noon and before sleep, gave him +4 days daily.

This lifespan boost lived up to its name: practicing slowly made him as long-lived and healthy as a crane or turtle.

Just this alone gave him strong motivation—he’d inherited a body destined for early death. He didn’t care about others’ strange glances.

Especially since prolonged practice had already begun yielding something remarkable.

“Does your mom not make you breakfast at home?” Lin Miaomiao, who’d eaten at home but insisted on joining He Chen and Ruan Liuzheng for school, asked while standing outside.

Before they could answer, she smacked her forehead: “Oh no! What’s wrong with my brain? Your mom’s so beautiful—she must’ve been the school beauty back then. How could she cook like our family’s?”

At this, He Chen’s brow twitched slightly.

Not because he thought the remark was wrong.

Lin Miaomiao spoke nothing but truth.

Ruan Liuzheng might be a stretch as school beauty, but her mother was undoubtedly a school beauty—calling her a national diva even did the title justice.

But beauty fades, and grace withers. No matter how dazzling, time still wears it down.

“Graceful” was a compliment for ordinary women.

Didn’t you see how Richard in Apartment 1 made Hu Yifei and the others giggle like fools?

But for a woman once dazzlingly beautiful, becoming merely “graceful” was like falling from heaven to earth.

He wasn’t frowning out of nostalgia for fading beauty.

He was involuntarily stirred by a powerful emotion—not his own, but a leftover instinct from the original body, still lingering.

It hadn’t fully faded because it was too intense, too deeply rooted—like a scar carved into bone. Even after the original consciousness vanished, the emotion remained as instinct, still faintly influencing He Chen.

He knew exactly what it was, yet still had to fight hard to suppress the surge of unspeakable feeling whenever it rose.

“Boss, one shaomai, two buns, and a plate of dumplings!”

Lin Miaomiao had just spoken casually, watching He Chen eat with relish, swallowed hard, and ignored the fact she’d already eaten breakfast—she reached out and bought more food, shoving it into her mouth.

Qian Sanyi, standing quietly nearby, shook his head, silently calling her a glutton.

If not for school, she’d eat nonstop.

Two years ago, she’d even sneak food into class whenever she got the chance.

After eating, the four continued their ride, entering Chunfeng Middle School. As they headed for the bike rack, a horn blared behind them, accompanied by engine roar.

“Whoa!” Lin Miaomiao hadn’t expected an engine-powered vehicle to follow them into campus. She spun around in shock, lost balance, her short legs unable to reach the ground, nearly toppling off her bike.

He Chen, riding ahead, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He braked sharply, reached back with uncanny speed, and gripped Lin Miaomiao’s handlebars, steadying her bike before she could fall.

Ruan Liuzheng blushed and quickly dismounted, one hand shielding her chest, the other steadying the shaken Lin Miaomiao.

Everyone turned to see a flashy red Ferrari gliding slowly forward. Inside the driver’s seat, a boy in racing gear glanced coldly at He Chen and his group, then drove on.