Physical Assessment for 0007: The First Time

These days, the internet is saturated with people flaunting their wealth and showing off their privileged lives. Chen Jue couldn’t quite figure out why there seemed to be so many rich guys online. Maybe it was because he’d been working as a wage earner for too long and hadn’t moved up the social ladder. Apart from a few business owners and landlords he knew, he’d never really encountered anyone genuinely wealthy.

Most office workers earning ten or twenty thousand a month were just scraping by. Once you had a family, you’d want to stretch every yuan as far as it would go. No one in his circle would ever treat money lightly or throw it away on frivolous things. A single skipping stone costing a yuan was almost as much as two of the cigarettes he smoked daily.

“Maybe I’ll just smoke two packs fewer and try buying some stones?” Chen Jue glanced at the [Sub-Healthy] status on his panel, recalled the satisfaction and joy he’d felt skipping stones the previous evening, and decided to splurge on a 200-yuan set. He wasn’t married, didn’t have a family to support like others, and all his wages sat untouched in his bank account. He had no expensive hobbies except for his daily pack of 18-yuan Blue Liqun cigarettes. When it came to food, clothing, and daily expenses, he was quite generous with himself. With a monthly income over ten thousand, being stingy would only ruin his own mood. Besides, a night out gaming with friends could easily cost more than this. Skipping stones not only boosted his stats, but also exercised his body and lifted his spirits—truly a win-win-win.

However, Chen Jue didn’t order from the world record holder’s shop. That store sold custom petal-shaped stones, said to be crafted from processed clay, with a unique feel and the ability to create special arcs across the water. The seller, a world champion who had set the record as a teenager, added a hefty premium for the fame attached to his products.

Instead, Chen Jue chose a regular store and placed an order for 400 basic, cut stones for 200 yuan. After a pleasant chat, the seller even threw in an extra 20 stones for free. That worked out to less than half a yuan per stone—cheaper than arcade tokens and perfectly acceptable.

“Four hundred should last me a while, right?” Chen Jue thought back to his progress that night—he’d only used about a hundred of the stones he’d picked up to level up his [Stone Skipping] skill to Level 1. The quality of those found stones varied, and not every one could improve his proficiency. With these professional stones, he’d be able to level up the skill much faster once they arrived.

...

After watching skipping stone videos for a long time, Chen Jue realized he might actually be getting addicted to the sport. He’d originally planned to browse some pretty girls on Douyin, maybe enjoy some performances or dancing. But when he saw that it was already midnight, a wave of overwhelming fatigue hit him, impossible to resist.

He powered off his phone and went to sleep.

That night, Chen Jue slept deeply, like a dead pig, his snoring echoing around his rented room. When he woke up automatically at 8:30 the next morning, he immediately sensed something was wrong. His right arm was completely numb and even the slightest movement sent a jolt of pain through it.

“Damn! Are the aftereffects really this bad?”

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Gritting his teeth against the soreness, Chen Jue rolled out of bed, washed up, and went out for breakfast. Because he had to clock in at work by nine, he’d developed a habit of waking up at 8:30 over the years.

No matter how late he’d slept the night before, he was always up on time the next day. But waking up early on weekends was useless—there was nothing to do at work, no one to hang out with in the morning. Usually, Chen Jue would just stay in and catch up on sleep.

Unfortunately, today there would be no going back to bed—the pain in his right arm was simply too much. He wandered around the garden in the middle of his apartment complex, watching people jogging and exercising, and joined in for a couple of laps. He quickly realized just how out of shape he’d become—a simple evening of stone skipping had left him a wreck the next day. No wonder his panel rated him as severely sub-healthy.

“Looks like I need to increase my exercise.”

“Work isn’t going to make me rich anyway, and it’s almost impossible to get wealthy by grinding away at a job. Training for a healthy body doesn’t sound so bad,” Chen Jue reflected as he walked.

He’d drifted through the last few years at work, paying little attention to his health for the sake of a modest paycheck. Smoking, drinking, and weekend feasts had taken their toll—his figure was long past its prime. He remembered graduating as a skinny young man, but now, with his thirtieth birthday on the horizon, he’d developed a beer belly, turned chubby, and his hair was thinning from too many late nights.

“Exercise… I think the company gave out a gym trial card!”

Patting his belly as the thought struck, Chen Jue stopped his walk and returned to his room. After some rummaging, he found the plastic card in his wallet. It was a Mid-Autumn Festival gift from Taisheng Company the previous year. Along with a box of barely edible mooncakes, everyone had received a 100-yuan gym trial card.

Many companies offered similar perks to encourage employees to stay healthy and maintain a good work attitude. These cards were purchased in bulk and probably cost the company less than half their face value—cheaper than giving out a box of mooncakes.

“Yilian Fitness, Wangdao Park branch.”

“And it’s pretty close!” Chen Jue put away the card, dug out a tracksuit he’d worn for a team-building event, and changed into it along with his sneakers. Since he worked at a financial company, he usually wore a suit as required, and only dressed casually on weekends—he almost never wore sportswear.

Dressed and ready, he strolled over to Wangdao Park. It was a multi-functional business park, home to small restaurants, car clubs, high-end bridal studios, and other boutiques—always bustling with people.

Yilian Fitness was on the second floor, spacious and decorated in a modern, minimalist style. You could see a row of treadmills and gym equipment through the glass at the entrance. Since it was early on a weekend morning, few people were there to work out.

At the door, Chen Jue was stopped by the gate. The receptionist asked, “Sir, are you a member? We’re a members-only gym and require facial recognition to enter.”

“I have a trial card, just wanted to try it out,” Chen Jue said, pulling the card from his pocket.

“Here for a trial class?” she replied. “This card is worth a hundred and gives you a week of access. If you like it here, come see me for a yearly membership.” The receptionist was especially enthusiastic, as non-members were prime targets for sales and she would get a commission from any new sign-up.

“I’ll just try it out. Haven’t exercised in ages.” Chen Jue forced a smile and cooperated as the receptionist set him up with a one-week trial pass.

...

Face scanned, he entered the gym. Surrounded by unfamiliar equipment, Chen Jue had no idea where to start.

“Hey man, here for the trial class?” a strong, bald coach approached. “I’m a trainer here. Since it’s your first time, I’ll guide you through a session.” The man wore a fitted white tank top, his muscles swollen and solid, giving an impressive sense of power at first glance.

“Hello, Coach! I live nearby and just wanted to get a bit of exercise,” Chen Jue replied, trying to decline politely. He’d read online about gym sales tactics—coaches would guide you through a session, then push you to sign up for a membership or private lessons. Most young people, unable to resist the pressure, ended up paying almost without realizing it.

Perhaps sensing Chen Jue’s caution, the coach laughed, “Don’t worry, brother, we’re legit—we’ve been open five years. The first trial class is always free. If you’re not satisfied, you don’t have to come back!”

With the coach being so straightforward, Chen Jue let his guard down and agreed. After a brief chat, he learned the coach’s name was Li Chaoqun, and addressed him accordingly. Seeing the pain patches on Chen Jue’s right arm, Coach Li asked if he’d sustained an injury. Chen Jue explained about the stone skipping the previous day.

“You can pull a muscle skipping stones?” Li Chaoqun was surprised, then checked Chen Jue’s arm. When Chen Jue winced in pain, the coach reassured him, “No big deal! Those are all small muscle groups in your arm—they recover pretty quickly. Just rest for a few days.”

“Small muscle groups?” The unfamiliar term caught Chen Jue’s attention. He remembered seeing the phrase [Muscle Group] flash across his panel the previous night, but had forgotten about it in his excitement over the stone skipping videos. Hearing it now from a professional piqued his curiosity.

“There are two types of muscle groups in the human body—large and small. Chest, back, and thighs are large muscle groups, while arms, abs, and calves are small muscle groups. It’s normal not to know this when you’re just starting out. You can look it up online later,” Coach Li explained as he led Chen Jue to a small room at the back of the gym.

Inside was a device resembling a high-tech scale, only more complex, with several electrodes and an LCD screen, plus a connected computer and printer.

“This is a body composition analyzer, used for physical assessments. Since it’s your first time, I’ll check your current condition, then put together a customized plan,” Li Chaoqun said professionally.

It was Chen Jue’s first time using such advanced equipment, and he followed the coach’s instructions—removing his glasses, gripping the electrodes, and standing on the foot pads. When Coach Li started the assessment, Chen Jue watched a progress bar fill. Shortly after, a report printed out from the machine.

“Height: 178 cm. Weight: 86.5 kg. Basal metabolic rate: 1,640 kcal.”

“Body fat percentage: 33.2%. Muscle mass: 52.6 kg. Fat mass: 28.7 kg. You’re currently overweight.”

“BMI is 27, a bit on the high side. Take a look at the report—your body age is already 32, about three years older than your actual age.”