005 Embracing a New Life with Optimism

Cultivating My Powers in a Mountain Village Ghost Crab 001 2473 words 2026-04-11 15:49:09

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In early October, the southern days were stiflingly hot, yet the nights carried a hint of coolness.

Creak!

It was already one in the morning. Chen Anquan, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and long pants, felt his whole body radiating heat from three hours of continuous tai chi practice. He gently pushed at his bedroom door.

The door didn’t budge. He applied more force and finally managed to open it.

The main hall was dim. Pale moonlight filtered through the frosted glass of the rusty window, casting a faint glow across the room.

Feeling his way in the darkness, Chen Anquan entered the hall. He wanted a drink of water, hoping to disperse some of his internal heat.

As he passed the room opposite his own, he heard the rhythmic creaking of an old wooden bed and a woman’s muffled murmurs. He instantly realized he probably shouldn’t have ventured out so late at night.

Who would have thought his second uncle and aunt, at their age, still enjoyed such a lively married life?

Chen Anquan walked straight to the cabinet at the front of the hall. Reaching the water dispenser, he located, by the faint moonlight, an unused pack of disposable plastic cups atop the water barrel.

He gulped down a cup, then another.

His throat, long since dry and parched, felt soothed. Chen Anquan prepared to return to his room.

In the quiet of night, every sound was magnified. The creaking of the old bed in his uncle’s room, for example, was crystal clear to him as he drank.

Crash!

Suddenly, Chen Anquan accidentally kicked over the old armchair his uncle used during the day. The chair toppled backward, landing with a crisp thud.

Damn, will they misunderstand?

Chen Anquan was flustered. He wished he could sprint back to his room, lock the door tight, and pretend to know nothing.

At that moment, the rhythmic squeaking of the old wooden bed abruptly ceased...

From inside the room, his aunt’s drowsy voice drifted out, “What was that noise?”

His uncle’s deep, muffled reply followed, “Probably a stray cat. Lately, there’ve been a lot of them sneaking in to steal food.”

Then came his aunt’s coquettish voice, “Don’t stop... go on...”

By then, Chen Anquan was already back in his cousin’s room, unaware of what had just been said. Lying in bed, he began to check the results of his three hours of effort.

Skill: [Tai Chi LV0 (15/100)]

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Unused attribute points: 0.03

On average, an hour of tai chi practice earned him 5 proficiency points and 0.01 unused attribute points.

Staring at his constitution stat, which was only 0.83, Chen Anquan understood that his physical condition was just 83% that of a normal person—far from ideal, and a severe drag on the national average!

To live in the countryside without a strong body—how would he ever manage farm work in the future?

He put all 0.03 unused attribute points into constitution. His constitution was now 0.86, much closer to the standard.

As for physical changes, he didn’t feel much yet. Lying on his cousin’s old wooden bed, he felt especially comfortable.

The next morning.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

Chen Anquan woke with a start.

He suddenly realized he was running late!

Grabbing his phone from the bedside, he checked the time: already half past eight!

Who would have thought that after three hours of tai chi practice yesterday, he’d sleep in so late today?

Normally, while he wasn’t an early sleeper, he always woke up early. When he worked at the hospital, the shift started at eight. He’d usually be up before seven, with enough time for breakfast and a walk to arrive at the department on the dot.

Apparently, dedicated tai chi training had taken a real toll on his energy. Otherwise, his steadfast biological clock wouldn’t have been disrupted.

“Should I buy some supplements—Rehmannia Pills, Black-bone Chicken White Phoenix Pills, Blood-nourishing Beauty Granules—to give myself a proper boost?”

Chen Anquan had read plenty of xianxia and fantasy novels. The protagonists, while training their bodies, always endured the tempering of bones and muscles, accompanied by various tonics and medicines for strength, vitality, and recovery from injuries.

However, those internal and external remedies were never cheap. Most families couldn’t afford them.

That’s why the saying goes, ‘The poor study literature, the rich practice martial arts.’

“I’m in the real world now. There are no magical herbs, divine flowers, or spiritual fruits. Ginseng, lingzhi, and polygonum are just potent Chinese herbs, not the wonders they are in novels.”

Still, Chen Anquan wasn’t worried. If he ever needed supplements, the 20,000 yuan he had on hand could buy over a thousand bottles of Rehmannia Pills!

If worse came to worst, he could forage for herbs in the mountains—medicine at zero cost! After all, he was trained as a rehabilitation therapist in traditional Chinese medicine!

With his worries dispelled, Chen Anquan got up and left the room.

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As expected, his second uncle and aunt were long gone.

It was harvest season. The two old farmers, having worked the fields their entire lives, were surely out in the paddies reaping rice.

As for Chen Anquan himself, despite being a bona fide “farmer,” he had never worked the fields since childhood, nor had he ever seen his grandfather do so.

His grandfather once told him, “Grandson, if you must be a beggar, go where there are crowds.”

Chen Anquan glanced at the center of the hall. On the bare table sat a celadon bowl.

Inside was a heaping bowl of noodles, already congealed and overcooked.

Clearly, his uncle and aunt had set aside the noodles for him.

Though there was no poached egg, nor thin slices of meat—only a few leaves of greens—Chen Anquan was still quite content.

He didn’t expect much from his uncle and aunt. After all, they’d never shown any intention of taking him in when he was young.

After a quick wash, Chen Anquan sat on the armchair his uncle had used the day before, picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat.

Strangely, his appetite was unusually strong. He finished the large bowl of noodles in just a few minutes.

His aunt’s cooking was nothing special, yet that didn’t stop him from polishing off every last strand.

After leaving the house, Chen Anquan stood at the courtyard gate and saw the neighbor lady who’d greeted him yesterday.

“Anquan, have you had breakfast?”

He smiled awkwardly, “Yes, I have.”

He followed the path in front of the house, soon reaching the edge of the pond.

Having been dismissed from the hospital and stripped of his medical license, he’d returned to his birthplace, expecting to feel lost.

Fortunately, his awakening to the attribute panel had gradually soothed his sense of injustice.

Now, this life didn’t seem bad at all.