Chapter One: The Cinematic Life Experience System

"Knock, knock, knock, knock!"
The door rattled with a series of urgent knocks. Startled from his sleep, Zhou Chen jolted upright, but before he could fully gather his senses, a familiar roar echoed from outside.

"Sleep, sleep, sleep—sleep is all you ever do! Do you even know what time it is? Still not up? Are you trying to drive me mad?"

Here we go again.

Zhou Chen rubbed his eyes helplessly. This was his second month back home after quitting his job. The initial warmth of his return had lasted only a few days; ever since, he’d been subjected to all sorts of complaints. Even sleeping in was enough to earn him a scolding.

He remembered how gentle and kind his mother used to be, always speaking softly to him. But lately, it was as if she’d become a different person altogether.

He knew the reason, of course. Understanding it didn’t make it any easier to solve.

It was just past March, and the weather in Huai City was turning mild, though the temperature barely reached the teens. The down jacket had long been put away, but a sweater was still needed.

Dressed, Zhou Chen stepped out of his room and immediately saw his mother, Li Congping, sitting on the living room sofa.

He prepared to flash a smile and say something ingratiating, but his mother gave him no chance. She sprang to her feet.

"Look at the time! You stay up all night and can’t wake up in the morning—what are you trying to do? Do you still think you’re in your early twenties? You’re already thirty! If you keep this up, you won’t just fail to get married; you’ll waste your whole life!"

Zhou Chen scratched his nose, not daring to retort. He could only mutter under his breath, "Mom, isn’t that a bit much? My birthday’s in the twelfth lunar month, and I haven’t even turned twenty-eight yet, let alone thirty."

Li Congping shot him a glare and snapped, "Don’t give me that nonsense. I gave birth to you; you’re as old as I say you are. By the time your father and I were your age, your sister could run errands for soy sauce. Look at you—still without a girlfriend."

"Why is it always about girlfriends, Mom? I told you, these things are about fate. If it’s not meant to be, what’s the use of rushing?"

This conversation happened several times a day—Zhou Chen’s ears had grown calluses from it.

Li Congping sneered, "Fate? Is fate going to drop by while you’re sleeping your days away at home? I’m too embarrassed to go out now. Everyone in the neighborhood knows our son is lazy and single. Isn’t it shameful enough for us already?"

"When have I ever been lazy? I only quit my job less than two months ago; I just want to take a break. And is it really such a disgrace not to have a girlfriend at my age? It’s perfectly normal not to be married yet."

"Hmph."

His mother’s cold laugh made Zhou Chen’s eye twitch. No girlfriend meant no status at home.

"Ahem."

Zhou Zhiming coughed twice, breaking up their argument. He turned to his wife. "Dear, it’s almost lunchtime. Go steam the crabs. Xin and Lele will be here soon."

He would have been better off silent. As soon as he spoke, Li Congping snapped at him, "You’re no better—all you do is play the good guy and smooth things over all day."

But after venting, she headed to the kitchen. Her daughter and granddaughter were coming for lunch, and she’d bought hairy crabs specially. With no grandson, she doted on her granddaughter.

"Dad, what’s with Mom today? She’s like a powder keg," Zhou Chen whispered, pulling his father onto the balcony and lighting him a cigarette.

Previously, while his mother would urge him to find a girlfriend, she’d never been this aggressive.

Zhou Zhiming took a drag and exhaled. "You can’t blame your mom. It’s your Aunt Zhao—she got her worked up today."

"Aunt Zhao? Isn’t she Mom’s friend? Did they have a fight?"

Zhou Chen was puzzled. Aunt Zhao lived in the same complex and often chatted with his mother; they got along well.

Zhou Zhiming took a deep drag, his expression sour. "It’s not just your mother—she got under my skin too."

"Your mom asked her to introduce you to someone. Today she told us she found a match. Your mom was happy—until she found out the woman was divorced and had a son."

"You should have seen your mom—she was shaking with anger. If I hadn’t held her back, she would’ve fought with Aunt Zhao right there."

Even Zhou Chen was stunned at this. Seriously, Aunt Zhao?

"And she said, ‘That’s the market now—more men than women. Divorced women are just as sought after.’ Your mom lost it and started scolding her, asking why her son should settle for a divorced woman. I had to drag her away."

Now Zhou Chen understood why his mother was so explosive today. Any mother would lose her temper.

It wasn’t that he looked down on divorcees—there was no shame in being divorced—but it depended on the person. He was a decent young man, not ugly or short, with two apartments and a car. Why should he settle?

"Son, don’t blame your mom. I need to remind you too: as parents, we don’t expect you to become rich or powerful. We just want you to have a family of your own, a harmonious marriage. That would be enough for us."

Looking at his father, who was wreathed in smoke and hesitant to speak, Zhou Chen fell silent. He understood his parents’ wishes, but he truly didn’t want to settle.

"Dad, I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll try my best."

"You’re grown up now, not a child anymore. Try to understand your mother."

Zhou Zhiming patted his son’s shoulder, stubbed out his cigarette, and left the balcony.

Zhou Chen gazed at the traffic outside, his mood heavy. He knew his parents’ disappointment wasn’t just about his lack of a girlfriend; it was also about his resignation over a month ago.

He’d worked at a state-owned distillery, a position his father had arranged right after graduation. He’d stayed for five years, working his way from junior employee to a small leadership role, with decent pay and benefits.

But only he knew how stifling the environment had become, draining all his youthful hopes and pushing him into early retirement mode.

Not long ago, a situation arose—clearly the fault of upper management, yet he was made the scapegoat. After years of pent-up frustration, he finally snapped and quit.

Looking back, the anger at the time hadn’t really warranted resignation. Years of suppression had built up, and that incident was the breaking point.

He didn’t regret it—it was his choice. But in hindsight, it did feel a bit impulsive.

"That kind of life isn’t for me. Life is hard, but I still want to live the way I choose."

His decision had disappointed his parents, but he didn’t regret it.

Suddenly, Zhou Chen noticed an inexplicable white light outside, shooting directly toward him. His mind grew hazy.

In that haze, something seemed to form in his mind. When he came to, he was shocked to find a screen—like something out of science fiction—projected before his eyes. He could see it, but not touch it.

"What is this?"

Before he could react, information appeared clearly in his mind:

Host: Zhou Chen

Attributes:

Strength: 7

Constitution: 8

Spirit: 8

Agility: 7

Remaining Points: 4

The panel was simple—just his name and four basic attributes.

"A system?"

Zhou Chen’s heart pounded. He’d only just been lamenting his fate, and now a system had appeared?

Excitement soon replaced his shock. As an avid reader of web novels, he was no stranger to systems—this was the hallmark of a protagonist.

With his rich experience in web fiction, Zhou Chen didn’t panic. He communicated with the system in his mind and quickly received a response.

The information in his mind told him this was the Life Experience System, designed to let him traverse into other worlds and experience different lives.

"Travel to other worlds, experience new lives."

The system’s abilities left Zhou Chen even more astounded. He asked what kind of worlds he would visit, and the system replied: worlds from film and television.

However, the traversals weren’t unlimited. In each world, the system would assign him a task. Only upon completing it could he return to reality and unlock his next opportunity.