At twenty-five, he transmigrates into a courtyard house. The System claims it will help him reach the pinnacle of life. He opens the status screen and sees that his mental stats are a little higher than his physical ones. The people in the courtyard think he’s just a new worker. None of them know his mind holds more than 2,700 years’ worth of options. He doesn’t rush to use them. Every day, he goes to work and comes home as usual, walking through the central courtyard without so much as glancing at anyone. When Jia Zhangshi knocks to borrow cooking oil, he tells her through the door that he has none. When Yan Bugui asks about his years of service, he says he can’t remember. Qin Huairu tries to chat with him by the well, but he just nods and goes back inside. The people in the courtyard gradually realize he’s odd, but can’t say exactly why. Every morning, he sweeps the area outside his door; every evening, he seals the coal stove. He never argues with anyone or lets anyone get close. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep at night, he thinks about the options the System mentioned, but he hasn’t selected a single one. As time passes, he figures he might not need them at all. Life in the courtyard may be full of little hassles, but at least it’s peaceful. He just stays there, like the old tree in the courtyard, never moving and never speaking. Later, when someone asks where he’s from, he simply says he’s forgotten, and the person doesn’t ask again. He carries on with his life, leaving early and coming home late, locking the door and shutting the windows tight. The System never sounds again, and he never looks at the status screen. He’s actually quite content with this life.
