Xu Bin was a quick-thinking guy. As a child, people often called him a smart kid. If it hadn't been for a certain family secret he discovered, maybe he would've followed his parents' wishes, studied hard, and gone to college with average grades like everyone else.
But in a family where money was tight, supporting three children through university was a nightmare. His older sister had just graduated and was still drifting at home, unable to land a decent job. His younger sister, on the other hand, was the pride of the family—smart, driven, and full of promise. Not wanting to burden his parents further, Xu Bin gave up on college and left for the provincial capital to work.
At first, he did physical labor—until he realized it was the most miserable way to make a living. Relying on his wits, he apprenticed under a repair technician, and after a year, he was nearly a pro. During this time, he uncovered a few small secrets about the repair business—especially in phones, computers, and home appliances. Tired of just scraping by as someone else's apprentice, he decided to strike out on his own.
After more than six months, his tiny shop barely stayed afloat. The secondhand market had shrunk, and repair work brought in just enough to survive. Recently, he took a gamble and bought a used iPhone 4S, pouring in all his "capital"—which was less than 2,000 yuan. It was a 64GB model, so he had high hopes.
But the phone was beyond repair. Even the official after-sales agents wrote it off. The cost to fix it far exceeded what he'd ever make reselling it.
Left with no choice, Xu Bin printed a stack of fliers and went around posting them in residential communities, hoping to scrape together enough for next month's rent.
Repairs required focus, and Xu Bin had the patience for it. When he really concentrated, he started to understand the system's missions and tools. But then he saw the main mission—and realized there were only 78 minutes left on the three-hour countdown.
He didn't need a warning to know what "Erasure" meant.
He remembered the system's line: This planet has abundant heat energy and food sources. Heat. The first thing that came to mind was hot water. He rushed to the balcony, lit the gas stove, and set a kettle to boil. As he waited for the bubbles to rise, his mind wandered back to the weekly and monthly missions. Three TVs? 30,000 yuan? That was way out of reach.
But the Attribute Wheel and Skill Wheel—now those caught his attention. He'd spent nearly an hour just drooling over the possible rewards. Who wouldn't?
The Attribute Wheel had all sorts of bodily enhancements: taller height, bigger muscles, sharper vision, better hearing, and yes—ahem—"performance" boosts. Each category was finely detailed. Xu Bin figured the wheel was basically there to help you build the perfect human. Of course, it all came down to luck—if you kept rolling for "taller height," eventually you'd just give up. Too tall wasn't everyone's dream either.
The Skill Wheel was even more magical. It included every possible real-world skill—driving, singing, martial arts, gaming, languages—you name it. But then he saw the Negative Wheel and Disaster Punishments.
The Negative Wheel? Yeah, it did exactly what it sounded like. Couldn't complete a task? Say goodbye to a few centimeters of height. Xu Bin was already below average—he didn't want to be called short for life.
As for Disaster Punishment… That one gave him cold sweats.
From small mishaps like getting hit by a car, to falling objects, all the way up to lightning strikes and earthquakes—this thing didn't mess around. The stakes were sky-high. There were no free meals. That so-called Icebound Galactic System? Total nightmare. Complete the task, get 3,000 yuan. Fail? Erasure.
Luckily, Earth's abundant thermal energy meant he had a chance.
The water began to boil. Xu Bin shook off the wild thoughts, poured himself a bowl, scooped a spoonful, blew on it a bit, then started sipping carefully. This, for now, was the most rational way he could think of to absorb heat energy.
The familiar 0/3 indicator reappeared in his mind. The zero looked like a container, and now there was a tiny sliver of "energy" forming at the bottom. Gamers would recognize this immediately. Xu Bin smiled. He got a little too into it and burned his tongue, but whatever—progress.
He opened the main mission again and focused hard on completing it. The system reacted like a game.
"Heat source level insufficient. Cannot complete task."
The message hit like a slap in the face. "You've gotta be kidding me!"
He drank two more big bowls of boiling water. The energy bar rose slightly, but the warning remained. Method correct—efficiency not.
Xu Bin sat down again and forced himself to calm down. He mentally reviewed every system message.
Icebound Interstellar... Interstellar Merchant... Heat-rich planet... Abundant thermal food...
Almost unconsciously, he touched his slightly rounded belly. A flash of inspiration struck him. Yesterday, while fixing a TV, he'd caught a bit of a health show: Avoid high-calorie foods like chocolate and fried goods—they make you gain weight quickly...
"Holy crap," he thought, "If this is real, I'll gladly be a rich fat guy. Screw it—I've got the system, I've got spin wheels. Losing weight'll be easy later!"
Eyes wide, grinning like mad, Xu Bin dashed out of his shop. A few steps away was a mini-mart. He stormed in, grabbed two bars of Dove chocolate, and tore into one before even paying.
Normally he'd savor it. Now? He was devouring it like a starving beast.
"Hey Xiao Xu, what's the rush? Skipped lunch?" Uncle Ma, the shopkeeper, looked up from his card game on the computer and chuckled at the sight.
Xu Bin smiled dumbly, reached into his pocket, and slapped two red bills onto the counter. He turned back and grabbed more chocolate—two big handfuls—dumping them at the register.
"Xiao Xu, that stuff's not exactly healthy in bulk," Uncle Ma warned. But his hands moved fast—scanning, bagging, and making change in one fluid motion.
Business was business, after all.
Xu Bin didn't even respond. His mood flipped so fast it was like watching fireworks. He grabbed the bag, ripped another wrapper, stuffed it in his mouth.
3/3.
One bar of chocolate. Enough to max out the system's energy.
Back at the shop, Xu Bin's face was pure joy. He dropped the bag on the table, pulled out his remaining cash, clutched it like a champion boxer, and punched the air repeatedly.
Then he threw open the door and screamed to the sky:
"AAAAHHHHH!!"
It wasn't just the mission reward. It wasn't just the 3,000 yuan. It wasn't even the system's wealth potential.
It was that he had finally figured out the secret.
There was no such thing as free money. To earn, you had to give. Maybe in that cold interstellar civilization, heat was rare and precious. On Earth? Chocolate and fried foods were everywhere.
What took them years of hardship to accomplish—he could do effortlessly.
Back inside, Xu Bin couldn't stop moving—running, jumping, pacing in circles. His tiny shop, made up of a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and balcony, now felt like a palace.
His bedroom was the kitchen. His kitchen was the workshop. His living room was now the storefront.
The place was sparsely filled—he'd only been running the shop for half a year. A few tools lay scattered. A big wooden desk held an old 25-inch CRT TV and random tools—soldering iron, screwdrivers, pliers.
One corner was set up with a computer on one side and a small repair station on the other. There was an old twin-tub washing machine by the bathroom—rescued, but functional. A fridge stood nearby, and in the corner, a propane tank and a welding torch for fridge repairs. Two decent chairs were set up for local customers needing kettle or rice cooker repairs.
Xu Bin was running laps inside, high on adrenaline. He touched the sheet—Refurbish. One unit of heat consumed.
Touched the pillow—half a unit gone.
Then he reached for the iPhone 4S that had cost him everything.
"Warning: Required heat exceeds current storage capacity. Cannot execute."
Next, he touched the old washing machine.
"Insufficient heat. Cannot execute."
He ate another chocolate bar. 3/3. Fully charged.
"Heh... this must be what 'full HP' feels like. Alright—Refurbish!"
The old washing machine trembled slightly, too quick to follow—then bam, a brand-new twin-tub washer sat before him.
"Money... money... money is coming!!!"
Xu Bin shook his hips and hummed gleefully, utterly unable to hide his excitement...