Chapter Two: Rising Suddenly from the Sickbed

As if tailored for the limited cognitive powers of the elderly, the system’s features were remarkably crude and straightforward. The interface displayed three items in enormous type:

Physical Age: 65 years.
Remaining Lifespan: 1 day.
Current Applause Points: 18,827.

Physical age was easy enough to understand—it was simply the actual age of the body he now inhabited. But what on earth did this “remaining lifespan” mean? How had it dwindled to a single day?

Though he’d long since braced himself for the worst, seeing only a day left to live still sent a wave of bitterness through Li Shixin’s heart. Yet, when he tapped on the Applause Points entry and read the description, he found a glimmer of hope amid his despair.

Applause Points: Generated by others’ recognition of you. Can be used to exchange for lifespan, reduce physical age, or for system lottery (lottery opens at system level 1).
Exchange Rate: Every 1,000 Applause Points can be exchanged for 1 day of lifespan or to reduce physical age by 1 day.

Oh?

After carefully reading through the explanation, Li Shixin suddenly saw the light. So, as long as he earned enough Applause Points, even a cerebral thrombosis couldn’t catch up to him—he could extend his life indefinitely? And even grow younger as time went on? Reverse aging, was it? Now, that sounded interesting.

The only issue was… Judging by the current 18,827 Applause Points, that must’ve been all the old man had managed to accumulate in his entire life. It was pitifully little.

“Brother Li, are you awake?”

Just as this thought crossed his mind, someone called to him from the bedside. Slowly opening his eyes, Li Shixin saw a group gathered around him. An elderly woman at the front held a steaming bowl of millet porridge, gently patting his hand.

“Brother Li, don’t lose heart. Everyone in the building has heard about your situation. We’ve come to cheer you on! If a child refuses to be filial, just pretend you never raised them. If they won’t care for you, we’ll look after you—don’t be discouraged, big brother. You haven’t eaten a thing in a whole day and night—you can’t live on IV drips alone! Have something to eat.”

“Grandpa Li, while you were unconscious all day and night, I thought your son and daughter-in-law would burst with anger! How could children behave like that? But when you donated your house without a second thought, we all felt vindicated.”

“All right, enough. Let him eat first. Grandpa Li, have a bite to keep up your strength.”

Beep!

Amid the sea of sympathetic and admiring gazes, a gentle chime sounded in Li Shixin’s mind. On the system interface, his Applause Points leapt from 18,827 to 19,325 in an instant.

A thrill shot through Li Shixin. He’d already earned some points? With that realization, his trembling hand reached out.

“Help me sit up…”

With the assistance of those around him, he sat up and, without another word, yanked out the IV from his arm and pulled on the clothes beside his bed.

“What are you doing?” someone asked, stunned.

Li Shixin gazed out the window, his expression resolute. “All these years, I wasted my time on that good-for-nothing. Now, in the end, I realize this life hasn’t been worth it. I’ve thought it through—no matter how many days I have left, even if there’s only one, I want to live it entirely for myself. I… am going to chase my dreams!”

Sunlight poured through the hospital window, casting the orange glow of evening across the deep lines of Li Shixin’s face. The fading light beneath his white brows lent his eyes a striking depth. The young people in the room were dazzled by the vigor now emanating from him—many wiped away tears. The elderly women nearby were so moved they wept openly.

Beep!

A surge of *intense* Applause Points had just arrived!

In an instant, his Applause Points soared from 19,325 to 20,001.

Maintaining what he considered a dashing pose, Li Shixin counted the people in the room. Thirty-two. On average, each had contributed over twenty Applause Points. Not a bad haul.

…

Ignoring the protests of doctors and nurses and skipping the discharge procedures entirely, Li Shixin walked out of the hospital. Staring at the system interface, where his entire hoard of Applause Points had just been exchanged for twenty-one days of additional life, he felt a keen sense of urgency.

Using his old-fashioned phone, he accessed the internet and made a quick survey of this world. In terms of history, culture, and society, it was almost identical to his original Earth, but with some differences. For example, short videos and livestreaming had only just begun to emerge. Major capital was only starting to get involved, so the industry was at the same level as Earth in 2015 or 2016. There were quite a few internet celebrities, but not so many that you’d run into dozens just by walking down the street.

On the other hand, the entertainment industry—especially television and film—was flourishing.

The government here was vigorously promoting the development of the film and television industries, offering policy support and relaxing the standards and speed of content approval. High-quality works frequently appeared on TV stations and video platforms, and with capital pouring in, some TV series even aired two episodes a week, releasing each episode as soon as it was filmed. This approach resulted in plenty of mediocre productions, but also created fertile ground for genuinely outstanding films and shows—blockbusters that were both critical and commercial successes emerged regularly.

The booming film and television scene had also led to the establishment of various film cities and shooting bases across the country, each with its own unique flavor.

Not far from Li Shixin’s city was a major filming base—Rongdian.

Sitting on a bench in the small plaza outside the hospital, digesting all this information, Li Shixin began to form a plan. Short video platforms were still in their infancy; content mainly featured celebrity tidbits, lifestyle vlogs dug up from Weibo, beauty bloggers, and quick analyses of movies and TV series. Without a team, it would be hard to build popularity online in a short time. Not to mention he was an old man now.

After walking from the hospital, he realized that, given the state of his body, becoming an internet celebrity would be difficult. At sixty-five, with two cerebral thromboses, his body was teetering between barely functional and utterly spent. His mind was perpetually groggy, and his vision was unclear. His stiff, aging bones made his movements hopelessly uncoordinated. The weakness brought on by his impending death left him needing to gather his energy just to speak—singing was out of the question.

Given these conditions, earning Applause Points online was unrealistic. He’d be better off trying his luck at Rongdian, hoping for a chance to share the screen with a celebrity—a potentially easier way to rack up points. Especially since, before crossing over, he’d spent some time studying acting, so he was at least professionally qualified.

Decision made!

With that, Li Shixin stood up.

Crack!

Ah, damn…

A second later, he clutched his lower back. He’d forgotten the state of his body—getting up too quickly had done him in…