Addicted to the Sports Meet

Glancing back at the facade of Taisheng Finance, which looked impressive but was hollow inside, Chen Jue hummed a cheerful tune—one even he couldn’t recall the origin of—as he stepped lightly onto the elevator and descended.

It was the afternoon work hour, so the corridors and lobby of Huaye Building were nearly deserted.

Passing by the building’s reception, Chen Jue overheard security guards and property staff gossiping about the major incident on the twenty-third floor. Even the authorities had been alerted; rumors must have spread like wildfire throughout the building’s management. The thousand-member groups Chen Jue had joined for the business park were also abuzz, screens flooded with rumors about Taisheng Finance—photos, videos, and insider revelations from company colleagues. When he had arrived at work that morning, the messages were already over ninety-nine; by now, scrolling to the top would be almost impossible.

Good news rarely travels far, but bad news spreads a thousand miles!

In Hangzhou’s high-pressure work environment, everyone seemed wound tight like mechanical springs. Ordinary office workers, when they slacked off, loved to sneak a peek at their phones, watching sensational and entertaining news unfold. Chen Jue had once been among them, avidly browsing group messages, checking trending topics online, transforming into a keyboard warrior and debating with equally idle netizens, sparring in endless arguments. Even if he lost, he simply enjoyed venting, finding amusement in the process.

But after acquiring this attribute panel, Chen Jue realized how immature he had once been. Instead of spending time fretting over national affairs or trying to right wrongs, wouldn’t it be better to exercise and take care of his health? Even if he didn’t feel like moving, stepping outside for some sunlight and a stroll was far superior to wasting time glued to his phone.

...

He scanned a shared bike and rode back to his residential complex, changed into workout clothes, and headed straight for Easy Training Fitness.

The front desk had swapped shifts; now an elderly cleaning lady was watching over things. With no one to disturb him, Chen Jue swiped his card and entered the gym.

It was working hours, so not a single person was exercising—the equipment area was empty.

Only Li Chaoqun, the trainer, was expending his energy on a barbell loaded with weights.

Bang!

The barbell crashed onto the mat, making the entire gym tremble, or so it seemed to Chen Jue.

“Wow!”

“One, two, three...ten plates?”

“To be able to lift such a heavy dumbbell in one go!” Chen Jue approached for a closer look, discovering each plate was twenty-five kilograms.

Without counting the weight of the bar itself, Li Chaoqun was deadlifting two hundred and fifty kilograms in one go—the equivalent of lifting three Chen Jues!

“Ah, Mr. Chen! Off work so early today?” Li Chaoqun caught his breath, unfastening the belt around his waist.

“No need for the ‘Mr.’—I’m just another worker!” Chen Jue waved his hand in denial, laughing off the formality and saying, “Weekends are alright for rest, last time I trained my thighs and now the soreness is gone. This afternoon I happened to be free, so I thought I’d work out again.”

Li Chaoqun smiled, “I see! Then Mr. Chen, you might try some upper-body equipment today, but best to start with some aerobic exercise to warm up.”

He didn’t guide Chen Jue through a class, as the trial card only allowed a single one-on-one session with a personal trainer. The rest of the time, Chen Jue had to practice on his own.

Of course, personal training here was far from cheap. The lowest package started at eight thousand, and each session cost over three hundred. Chen Jue could afford it, but it felt extravagant. Especially since he’d be without a salary soon, and before finding a stable new job, he needed to save for emergencies.

...

After exchanging pleasantries with Li Chaoqun, Chen Jue started warming up on the treadmill—from slow walking to fast walking, then a gentle jog. After about ten minutes, he began to sweat lightly, a surge of indescribable excitement spreading through his body.

He asked Li Chaoqun, who was training in the distance, and was told this was normal.

“Exercise causes the body to release both endorphins and dopamine,” explained Li Chaoqun. “Endorphins provide pain relief and pleasure, easing stress and improving mood. Dopamine also stimulates the mind, making us feel excited and happy. That’s why so many of our members, after sticking with it for a while, become frequent visitors—fitness brings joy and addiction, which is completely normal.”

“So it’s those hormones working their magic?” Chen Jue was fascinated. “No wonder skipping stones and throwing darts feels so exhilarating!”

He hadn’t exercised for years and knew little about the human body. These past days, coming to the gym had broadened his horizons.

Taking the opportunity, Chen Jue asked Li Chaoqun which equipment suited him best.

“Given your current condition, Mr. Chen, the rowing machine would be ideal,” Li Chaoqun replied. “It works out the whole body and is an aerobic exercise. Since you’re a beginner with excess fat around your waist and upper arms, the rower will help you build muscle and shape up.” He put down two large dumbbells and enthusiastically explained the rowing machine’s usage and precautions.

He could tell Chen Jue was serious about training. Although Chen Jue hadn’t signed up for his personal coaching, Li Chaoqun still wanted to leave a good impression—perhaps win a new client.

Chen Jue followed his instructions, sat on the rowing machine, and set it to level one—the lowest resistance.

Following Li Chaoqun’s guidance, he began familiarizing himself with the machine, gently leaning forward, extending his arms to grip the handle, then pulling back.

It felt easy at first, reminiscent of rowing an inflatable boat as a child at the hometown reservoir.

But after pulling for a preset distance of one hundred meters, Chen Jue’s waist and arms began to ache, especially his lumbar spine, which throbbed painfully.

“Mr. Chen, you’ve got a pretty bad lumbar disc herniation!” Li Chaoqun noted. “Your spine is also slightly curved; you should get it checked at a hospital. While general exercise can strengthen your back muscles and help correct deformities, you need targeted training. Blind practice can worsen the symptoms.”

He pinpointed the problem, pressing on Chen Jue’s lower back, making him wince in pain.

“What?” Chen Jue asked, nerves growing. “Does that mean I can’t keep training?”

For years at work, he’d relied on sheer willpower to push through minor ailments. There was no choice.

...

The poor can hardly afford to get sick!

He hadn’t had a proper medical checkup since joining the company, at least four years ago.

Sensing Chen Jue’s concern, Li Chaoqun offered reassurance, “Your condition is very common. Almost all the members I train have it. People nowadays spend too much time hunched over desks or glued to their phones, and over time, lumbar disc herniation is inevitable. A comprehensive checkup won’t cost much. After all, health is most important!”

With those words, Chen Jue reluctantly accepted the advice.

He asked Li Chaoqun what equipment would suit him now, and was guided to try the seated press machine, which targets shoulder muscles.

But after just a few repetitions, Chen Jue’s left shoulder began to creak audibly, the friction in his joints so loud even Li Chaoqun could hear.

Li Chaoqun laughed, “That’s periarthritis! You’d better get that checked at the hospital as well.”

Now it was Chen Jue’s turn to feel awkward, forcing a laugh and muttering to himself, “Well, looks like there’s no avoiding the hospital now!”

...

With ailments everywhere, Chen Jue quickly abandoned the equipment area after a few tries. Following Li Chaoqun’s advice, he decided not to practice blindly without a proper diagnosis, so he headed to the recreation room to throw darts.

He would have to go for a medical checkup, but it was nearly the hospital’s closing time. Going to the ER for minor issues wasn’t cost-effective, so he planned to postpone it until tomorrow.

Meanwhile, he wanted to make use of his time and boost his proficiency in darts.

The last two times he practiced darts, he’d used his left hand due to special circumstances. Normally, Chen Jue was right-handed, unlike Lin Ling, who had trained herself to use the left. His right hand was stronger and more dexterous.

Now, with his right hand recovered, he decided to try dart throwing with it, curious if he could maintain his Level 3 amateur proficiency.

To his surprise, his first throw with the right hand landed heavily on the edge of the dartboard. The strength was there, but the aim was off—much worse than with his left hand.

But what startled Chen Jue most was that this time, throwing with the right hand yielded no proficiency prompt; instead, an unfamiliar notification appeared on his attribute panel:

——————

[Ding~]

[Detected high overlap between the actions for “Skipping Stones” and “Darts.” Would you like to merge the skills?]

[Merging will consume 0.10 free attribute points.]

[The merged result will be granted as a brand-new sport skill.]

——————