Li Nan stared blankly at the translucent panel in front of him. The panel looked remarkably similar to the futuristic technology depicted in the sci-fi blockbusters he had seen in his previous life, yet there was no way such advanced technology could exist under current conditions.

Even in the years before his rebirth, he had never heard of any country possessing the ability to project holograms out of thin air without any equipment.

Could this really be alien technology?

Li Nan was bewildered, but his instincts told him that this so-called “Superstar System” appearing before him was no stroke of good fortune.

There’s no such thing as a free lunch. If something like this has landed in his lap, there must be a greater price hidden behind it.

Besides, he didn’t think he was cut out for this. He had no intention of returning to the entertainment industry.

The system seemed to have detected Li Nan’s thoughts and calmly informed him:

【Once the host is bound, unbinding is impossible.】

【Moreover, host, you are already dead. The only reason you were able to return to this point in time is because of the energy provided by the system. It transported you from the future back to this moment. Strictly speaking, the ‘you’ in this timeline is not truly you. If you forcibly unbind, without the system’s energy support, you will die immediately.】

Li Nan almost jumped up in shock, barely stopping himself from shouting. “What did you just say?”

【What I mean is, from a rational standpoint, unbinding is not a good choice for you, host.】

Li Nan: …

Why did that tone sound strangely familiar?

Instead of dwelling on the odd sense of déjà vu, he pressed on, “So you’re saying that if I want to unbind you and get you out of my head, I’ll die?”

【Strictly speaking, I do not reside in your brain, but that is a complicated concept to explain. To answer your question—yes. If you unbind, you will die.】

“Then… my future self?”

【Your future self is already dead. That was not the system’s doing. The system merely sensed your intense emotions and chose you as its host. If you must find an analogy, you could think of this as a kind of angel investment.】

Angel investment…?

The term sounded oddly fitting—except for the fact that he was the one being “invested in,” which was a little hard to accept.

It made him feel like a commodity, something that could be bought and sold.

Li Nan felt he should refuse. Like he always believed—there’s no such thing as a free lunch. But… at the end of the day, humans fear death. And having already died once, Li Nan feared it even more.

With a sigh, he realized that no matter how much he thought about it, this so-called “Superstar System” had never actually given him the option to refuse.

He had no choice but to accept it.

Only now did Li Nan finally take a proper look at the translucent panel. On the right side, four buttons were neatly arranged: 【Personal Panel】, 【Shop】, 【Inventory】, and 【Missions】.

It looked just like a game interface.

With that thought in mind, Li Nan casually tapped on 【Personal Panel】, and a string of text immediately appeared on the semi-transparent screen.

Name: Li Nan

Age: 10 years old

Li Nan understood the first two lines—his age was likely being calculated based on his physical body. But the rest of the stats took him by surprise.

Health: 80/100 (Picky eating is bad for your health.)

Mood: 30/100 (Looks like you’re feeling pretty down.)

Intelligence: 65/100 (Above average—you can be considered a smart person.)

Strength: 3/100 (A goose might be stronger than you.)

Appearance: 85/100 (Looking good is probably your only redeeming quality.)

Acting: 40/100 (Good enough for background roles, but you’re far from lead material.)

Musical Sense: 60/100 (A passable musician.)

Charisma: 10/100 (Your posture is terrible.)

Popularity: 0 (You’re as insignificant as an unnoticed ant.)

Popularity Coins: 0 (Broke and unknown—why haven’t you debuted yet?)

Available Talent Points: 0

Li Nan: “…”

Was this system here to help him or insult him?

Li Nan felt a bit conflicted after reading this string of mockery. The Mood stat on the panel even fluctuated slightly in response.

Mood: 28/100 (You seem a little incredulous.)

Li Nan: “…”

Was this thing updating in real time?!

Stunned for a moment, he decided to ignore the Mood stat and instead focused on the other attributes.

These numbers were clearly tied to becoming a celebrity, and honestly, his stats weren’t impressive at all. Especially the Charisma stat… Did his posture really deserve such a low rating? He was pretty sure his stance wasn’t that bad.

The only somewhat decent stat was Musical Sense, which made sense since he had worked as a singer-songwriter and had been playing guitar since childhood.

But still—he had actually been a musician, yet his Musical Sense was only a 60? If anything, this was another solid reason why he wasn’t suited to be a star.

The system chimed in at just the right moment:

【No need to worry about low stats! As the most advanced auxiliary system, I can solve all your problems. By completing daily quests, side quests, and main quests, you can earn Free Talent Points. These points can be allocated to any stat. Once a stat reaches a high enough level, even an idiot can become a genius!】

Li Nan was genuinely surprised. This so-called “most advanced auxiliary system”—was it actually legit?

A system with split personalities…?

Li Nan found this revelation oddly amusing. Two distinct voices—one cold and indifferent, the other lively and cheerful—made it sound like the system itself had some kind of personality disorder.

Was this just a new trend in AI programming?

The system fell silent for a moment before responding in that same indifferent tone as before:

【001 is your main system, responsible for assisting you and possessing an independent personality configuration. Meanwhile, I am the security and maintenance system, designed to ensure system stability and self-diagnosis. I am a subsidiary of the main system.】

【This does not affect your ability to use the system.】

Oh, so that’s how it was.

Li Nan quickly understood.

One was System 001, a main system with a programmed personality, while the other was essentially a firewall in charge of maintenance and security.

No wonder one voice sounded lively and the other was so emotionless.

Li Nan touched his nose and decided to continue browsing the system panel. After checking the Personal Panel, his attention shifted to the next few panels, with the Shop being the one that intrigued him the most.

This system, which seemed to originate from an advanced alien civilization—would it offer futuristic technology like spaceships in its shop?

If such things truly existed, Li Nan figured he might seriously consider becoming a celebrity. However, before that, he would turn himself over to the country, letting the government decide how to utilize such high-tech advancements.

Right up until the moment he clicked on the Shop, he had no idea what kind of choices awaited him.

But the instant the shop’s inventory appeared before his eyes, his pupils contracted, and waves of emotions surged in his chest.

Two rows of ten product slots filled his vision, yet only the first two were unlocked—while the remaining eight all displayed Unknown.

What truly stirred his emotions were the only two available products:

【Rapid Physical Recovery Potion】 – Price: 100 per bottle (Stock: 10)

【Injury Immunity 50 Buff】 – Price: 100,000 per day (Stock: 1)

What the hell is this?!

Li Nan’s heart pounded wildly, an exhilarating thought forming in his mind—still vague, yet enough to send his excitement soaring.

【The system shop refreshes once every Monday. The appearance rate of items is unpredictable, but to a certain extent, they correlate with what the host most desires at the moment.】

Li Nan: ?!

Forget a windfall—this was a real jackpot falling straight from the sky!

And this jackpot was big and incredibly tempting!

Unable to stop himself, Li Nan swallowed hard. One hand clutched his chest, forcing himself to calm down. These items… are they really effective? Can I take them out and give them to others? And what about…

There were too many questions flooding his mind at once. For a moment, he couldn’t even string them into words. But the change in his tone alone was enough for the system to detect his excitement—no need for backend data analysis.

【Items from the system shop are for the host’s exclusive use.】

Just as disappointment was about to set in, the system added another line:

【However, if the host diligently completes missions and upgrades the system shop, there is a chance of unlocking the item transfer card—allowing system items to be gifted to others, making them usable by the recipient.】

Li Nan: !!!

“So… does this mean… even my mom’s cancer could…”

【If the host works hard to complete missions, anything is possible.】

Li Nan closed his eyes.

The moment he saw those items, countless thoughts flooded his mind—not just about Li Wenqing’s cancer, but about himself as well.

If his past self, before being reborn, had access to these miraculous tools… then his foot injury, his chronic back strain—the injuries that tormented him, that forced him to retire—could they have been healed in an instant? Without any lingering aftereffects?

More than that…

During training, he could have pushed himself even harder, jumped even higher, skated without restraint—free of fear, free of hesitation.

If that were the case, then maybe, just maybe—he could have truly stood atop the highest podium.

Li Nan had never felt his heart race this violently before.

For his family.

For his dream.

For that fleeting glimpse of gold in his dreams.

..

Shen Xudong had just started heading back when he received a call from the teacher, informing him that Li Nan had suffered from heatstroke. The moment he heard the news, he turned around and rushed back.

However, he remained skeptical about whether Li Nan had truly succumbed to the heat.

After all, he had just dropped off a perfectly fine Li Nan at the youth center. How could he suddenly get heatstroke in such a short time?

Li Nan had always been in good health. From birth, he had been well cared for, and there was even a period when his grandmother overfed him, making him chubby. It wasn’t until Shen Xudong stepped in and put a stop to the excessive feeding that Li Nan gradually returned to a normal weight.

As he grew older, he shot up in height, his frame becoming leaner and more slender.

He rarely ever got sick.

So why did he suddenly get heatstroke the moment he arrived at the youth center?

Considering how Li Nan had just complained about not wanting to attend class, Shen Xudong had good reason to suspect that his son might be faking an illness to get out of it.

However, both he and Li Wenqing had always been strict and attentive in Li Nan’s upbringing, and he had never once resorted to lying or pretending to be sick to skip class. Trusting his son, Shen Xudong decided it was best to check on him in person.

When he arrived at the youth center, the teacher was already waiting for him. He followed them all the way to the infirmary, where he was met with the sight of his son—his face flushed red, forehead drenched in sweat.

Even in this air-conditioned infirmary, Li Nan looked undeniably unwell.

Shen Xudong was startled and hurried over to touch Li Nan’s forehead. “Xiao Nan? Do you have a fever? Are you feeling unwell?”

Snapping out of his excitement, Li Nan realized that his father was looking at him with concern. The semi-transparent panel floating in front of him was somewhat distracting, so he called out to the system in his mind, instructing it to close the panel.

“Dad, I’m fine.” Li Nan felt a little embarrassed. He hadn’t actually suffered from heatstroke—he had just lost the motivation to sit through class and went along with Teacher Lin’s suggestion. “I took a short break and feel much better now.”

Shen Xudong frowned slightly and gave Li Nan a once-over. Seeing that his son showed no visible signs of discomfort, he finally relaxed a little.

Heatstroke wasn’t a serious illness, but it was still quite miserable to endure.

Not only would the child suffer, but the whole family would probably worry for days.

As long as he was fine, that was all that mattered.

“Dad.” Li Nan tugged at Shen Xudong’s sleeve, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I really don’t want to learn guitar anymore. Can you switch me to a ballet class instead?”