How should one exercise the eyes?

As his physical attributes increased, a surge of warmth welled up around Chen Jue’s eyes. The pain and squinting he’d felt while staring at the setting sun faded, replaced by a cool, soothing sensation as tears began to flow. It was like the relief one feels after gazing at a screen for hours, then suddenly lifting one’s eyes to take in a sea of green plants.

“Special wavelengths of light stimulating mitochondria?”
“Physical constitution rising, eyesight improving?”
“Staring at the sunset can actually boost attributes!”

Chen Jue looked at the panel prompts, utterly bewildered. He’d always thought the attribute panel only gave feedback for exercise or massage and relaxation. Who would have imagined that looking at the sun could also grant attributes? Humans aren’t plants; they can’t photosynthesize—so how could sunlight provide an energy boost?

Puzzled, Chen Jue stared again at the orange-red sunset, intent on testing it out. The results were clear: though the evening light wasn’t as harsh, staring too long still made his eyes ache and sting. Aside from the continuous flow of tears, the panel showed no further prompts.

“Was it just a coincidence?”
“Or is there another reason?” Chen Jue muttered inwardly.

Taking advantage of a break after practicing the Twelve Forms of Tai Chi, he searched his phone for relevant information, focusing on keywords like “eyes,” “sun,” “mitochondria,” and “vision restoration.” As a working professional, he quickly stumbled upon scientific knowledge he’d never encountered before.

According to researchers, the retina’s photoreceptor cells contain a large number of specialized mitochondria, which age and deteriorate much faster than those in other tissues—a major cause of declining vision. Recent studies have shown these mitochondria are highly sensitive to long-wavelength light between 650 and 900 nanometers. Exposure to this light for a certain time each day improves mitochondrial function and increases cell activity, slowing or even reversing vision deterioration in a remarkable way.

In nature, light in the 650–900 nanometer range appears as red and deep red, most commonly found at sunrise and sunset. Just three minutes of daily exposure to red light can improve eyesight! Though the effect is subtle and requires long-term persistence to show noticeable improvement, for someone like Chen Jue, who suffers from severe myopia, it was fantastic news.

He spent long hours each day staring at phones and computers, straining his eyes. His myopia was over 500 degrees in both eyes, accompanied by astigmatism. Without his glasses, he could barely distinguish genders half a meter away. Even with glasses, distant objects appeared double, severely affecting skills like throwing darts or skipping stones.

“Only three minutes a day for optimal results?”
“But not many people seem to know about this red light therapy.”
“Is it not universally effective?”

Chen Jue speculated that individual physical differences might play a role. Having just encountered this obscure knowledge, he only half-understood the technical terms. Though he’d done well in biology class, years had passed since graduation, and all his knowledge had long since been returned to his teachers.

After half an hour engrossed in research, Chen Jue finally stopped when the sun had set. Online information was endless—like scrolling through TikTok or Bilibili, it was easy to waste days once immersed. As a newly minted man of action, Chen Jue resolved not to squander his precious time on his phone any longer.

Sweaty after exercise, he returned home for a clean change of clothes. Checking his attribute panel, he saw that in a single day he’d pushed the Twelve Forms of Tai Chi to level three (1766/2000), estimating he could level up with another morning session. He’d also gained 0.06 attribute points, the most efficient day since acquiring the panel.

In high spirits, he forgot all about the morning’s embarrassment with Zhu Hongbin and drove to Jing Tang Plaza to meet Jiang Zhe. When the two college buddies met in the parking lot, they exchanged knowing smiles and flashed the familiar “you know what I mean” look. They began with a buffet meal, followed by a full-service spa session.

This time, Chen Jue didn’t book the masseuse Nana. Not that her skills were lacking, but Nana’s fans were lining up for her, so he used the tablet to select a new therapist, number 72, Xiao Mo.

As Chen Jue was treating, Jiang Zhe was extra lively, making the most of the rare generosity. He chatted about the latest gossip in their group, especially the story of “Teacher Wu saving a boy from a dog’s mouth,” which Jiang Zhe repeated several times. He even pulled up Wu Fang’s viral photos online for commentary.

“Fourth brother, this girl’s pretty nice, right?”
“She’s a big deal online right now!”
“Just two darts and she took out a huge pit bull! Cool and beautiful!”
“I hear her family’s loaded, with several demolished houses; her admirers queue from West Lake to Qiandao Lake!”

Jiang Zhe clicked his tongue, spinning tales of uncertain origin. The actual person who’d dispatched the pit bull with a single dart was lying right beside him, but Chen Jue kept quiet, inwardly wondering, “From West Lake to Qiandao Lake? Are there really that many rivals?”

After the girl talk, Jiang Zhe asked about Chen Jue’s new job, since he’d helped arrange it and naturally cared about the outcome.

“Starting salary twenty thousand monthly, single apartment of forty square meters, year-end bonuses based on performance.”
“Pretty decent, right?”

Reclining in the massage chair, Chen Jue spoke as Xiao Mo, dressed in uniform, expertly worked his joints. After a day of Tai Chi, his muscles weren’t as sore as after weightlifting, but the long practice took its toll. When Xiao Mo pressed his joints, the sensation was so intense he couldn’t help but grunt.

Jiang Zhe, hearing Chen Jue’s salary, whistled in admiration: “That’s already great! With our lousy diplomas, twenty thousand a month is about as high as a wage slave can go.”

Having run his own business, Jiang Zhe knew Hangzhou’s salary landscape. Getting into Hengtong, a leading financial firm, was the pinnacle for a graduate of their background. To rise higher, one would need to upgrade their education or move into management.

As for the news online claiming that graduates in the class of ’23 had an average annual salary of 10,342 yuan, it was best taken with a grain of salt. The word “average” was used very cleverly: Xiao Wang, a college graduate, earns four thousand screwing bolts in a factory; Xiao Li, a Tsinghua or Peking graduate, earns half a million at a top tech firm. All are new graduates. Average them together, and everyone’s future looks bright.

Dinner and spa took over two hours. Xiao Mo’s skills were excellent, but this time no attribute points were gained. Chen Jue guessed his base attributes had improved so much that mere relaxation wouldn’t yield results anymore. To increase attributes further, discipline and exercise would be needed.

Leaving Jing Tang Plaza, the plan was to hit the internet café and game until eleven. But Jiang Zhe’s wife called incessantly, so the activity was cancelled. Chen Jue drove back to his apartment, planning to get to bed early and recharge for more attribute training tomorrow.

Yet recalling the scientific knowledge about eyes he’d learned that afternoon, plus the evening’s spa and muscle relaxation, a strange idea suddenly popped into his mind.

“If red light accelerates mitochondrial metabolism, improves vision, and boosts physical attributes…”
“Then, if I do targeted eye exercises, could I completely cure my myopia?”

The absurd thought once raised, Chen Jue couldn’t sleep. He searched for eye exercises online, and the instructional videos that popped up were none other than the eye health exercises he’d done throughout twelve years of primary, middle, and high school.

“Why not give it a try?”
“Maybe it really works?”

Watching the familiar tutorial with its music, Chen Jue took off his glasses and began. After several rounds of the four-part exercises, his eyes felt some relief, but the panel showed nothing.

“Am I pressing the wrong way?”
“Or does the panel not recognize this skill?”

Puzzled, he searched for different versions of the exercise, from the four-part to the five-part, eventually finding the original eight-part Liu Ming version invented in 1961. The earlier, simplified versions had little effect, but the original, with acupuncture diagrams and detailed instructions, finally triggered a response from the panel when Chen Jue pressed the eye points accordingly.

——————
[Ding~]
[You have completed a compliant eye health exercise. The arteries and nerves around your eyes have been stimulated, accelerating blood flow, promoting cell metabolism, and your vision has improved ever so slightly.]
[Skill activated: Eye Health Exercises]