Reborn as a high school freshman with an awakened system, a fat boy transforms into a male god.

Halfway through the class, Zhou Ziheng turned his head.

"Brother Bei, is your English good?"

"No good." Lin Bei glanced at him. "Your English is very good?"

"That's not good either. But it's okay..." Zhou Ziheng lowered his voice, "Let's compare our work after we're done, and discuss the differences and choose the better ones. It's better than one person doing it blindly, right? That's called cooperation and win-win."

Lin Bei thought about it and felt that although the logic was peculiar, it didn't seem to be entirely without merit.

He glanced at Zhou Ziheng and said, "You look very sleepy; your eyelids are almost closed."

"I didn't sleep well last night." Zhou Ziheng's expression changed subtly, and his voice unconsciously lowered a few decibels: "I read a novel last night, and I couldn't stop reading until three in the morning."

"What novel?"

"Battle Through the Heavens. Have you read it? It's incredibly good. Xiao Yan, a loser who rises to power, proves that fortunes change every thirty years, and never underestimate a young man's potential!" When Zhou Ziheng said this, he seemed to have been injected with adrenaline, and his drowsiness vanished instantly.

Lin Bei was stunned for a moment. He had read Potato's book before. In his previous life, when he read about Xiao Yan joining the Yunlan Sect, he was so excited that he couldn't sleep all night, tossing and turning in bed simulating the transformation of Dou Qi into wings. The next day, he slept through two whole math classes and was punished by Old Gu to stand all day. Just thinking about it now made his knees ache and his calves swell.

"I've heard of it, but I haven't seen it yet," Lin Bei said without changing his expression. This wasn't a lie; he genuinely hadn't seen it in this life.

"I'll send it to you at the internet cafe tonight. It's in TXT format, so it won't use much data." Zhou Ziheng's eyes gleamed with the excitement of sharing a treasure. "Or you can come too, I'll treat you to internet access. Reading novels is way more interesting than going to class, really, believe me."

Lin Bei glanced at him and suddenly felt a little touched. Although this skinny guy was always doing nothing productive, he was genuinely generous to him. He treated him to internet access, shared novels, and even helped him copy answers—he did everything he could.

[Zhou Ziheng's friendship index with the host is 92/100. He's the kind of friend you could "borrow money and never pay back," and the system suggests the host cherish him. Although the host already cherished him in his previous life, he can cherish him again in this one. It doesn't cost anything, so there's no harm in cherishing him a few more times.]

"I'm really not going, I have something to do today."

"What is it?"

"Go home for dinner."

Zhou Ziheng looked at him with a "Are you kidding me?" expression, completely bewildered: "Going home is a big deal?"

"My mom's fried rice is something else," Lin Bei said calmly, but something inside him was gently poked. In his previous life, he hadn't eaten his mother's fried rice in a long time. It wasn't that he couldn't eat it, but that after his mother passed away, that taste had never returned.

Zhou Ziheng was silent for a moment, then nodded: "That's true. My mom's cooking is also delicious, but she's recently become obsessed with health and wellness, putting goji berries in everything she cooks, even stir-fried vegetables."

"That's definitely good for your health," Lin Bei replied cooperatively.

"What's the point of trying to maintain my health? I ate stir-fried vegetables with goji berries for three days, and now my gums are swollen from all the heat."

Lin Bei couldn't help but laugh, his eyes unconsciously glancing at the front of the classroom.

Su Wantang sat there quietly, the numbers above her head still ticking.

When the school bell rang, Lin Bei was the first to leave the classroom. As he passed Su Wantang's seat, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye; she was still slowly packing her schoolbag, looking quite unhurried.

Instead of going through the main gate, he went around to the bicycle shed behind the teaching building. The old-fashioned bicycle was parked there, leaning against the wall at an angle, the velvet cover on the seat scorching hot from the sun.

Lin Bei hopped on his bike, but the pedals were still uneven, and the chain was still creaking. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was panting heavily, and the back of his school uniform was soaked with sweat.

When he got downstairs in the apartment building, he looked up at the window on the fifth floor. The curtains in apartment 502 were drawn tightly, and he couldn't see anything inside.

He went upstairs and paused at the door of room 502. The faded Chinese knot on the doorknob was still there, and the corridor was quiet; not a sound could be heard.

He stood there for two seconds, then turned around and opened the door to room 501.

No one's home. My mother won't get off work until six o'clock, and considering travel time, she won't get home until at least 6:40, even if there's no traffic. My father is still on the road, driving his car; I wonder which city he's in today.

Lin Bei changed his shoes and went to the kitchen first. His mother had stewed a pot of pork rib soup before leaving home that morning. The clay pot on the stove was still covered, and there was a container of braised pork next to it.

Instead of heating up the food, he walked to the window and looked outside.

The kitchen window of apartment 502 was dark.

You haven't turned on the lights to cook yet?

Lin Bei frowned and activated his mind-reading ability.

Su Wantang's inner thoughts flooded in:

"...Takeout costs fifteen yuan...that's too expensive...enough for three days' worth of bread..."

"...There's still half a bag of bread in the fridge...I'll make do with that...I already made do yesterday, I'll make do again today..."

"...Dad told me not to go see him...The new auntie is unhappy...The new auntie is unhappy, so who cares whether I'm happy or not..."

"...Never mind...nobody cares anyway...nobody cares anyway..."

At lunchtime in the cafeteria, Lin Bei noticed that she barely touched her food; the bowl of rice remained untouched until it was finally poured into the slop bucket.

A sixteen-year-old girl skipped lunch and planned to make do with half a bag of bread for dinner.

Lin Bei deactivated his mind-reading ability and stood there for a while.

Then he went into the kitchen, opened the cupboard, and took out a thermos.

Pour the pork rib soup into the container, and put the braised pork and rice into two food storage containers.

He carried these things to the door of 502, took a deep breath, and knocked.

Boom, boom, boom.

After about ten seconds, the door opened a crack.

Su Wantang stood behind the door, her hair slightly disheveled. She glanced at what Lin Bei was holding, then at Lin Bei's face.

"My mom made too much pork rib soup today," Lin Bei said. "She asked me to bring you some."

Su Wantang was stunned for a moment.

"No need, I've already eaten," she said.

Lin Bei glanced at the house behind her. On the shoe cabinet by the door was a half-open bag of bread, and next to it was a bottle of mineral water that was already mostly drunk.

"You should still drink the soup even if you've eaten." Lin Bei didn't call her out on it, but just pushed the food forward a little more. "My mom really made too much today. If you don't help eat it, it'll just go to waste."

"Pork rib soup is good for your complexion. Look at my skin, it's all thanks to the soup my mom used to make when I was little."

Su Wantang glanced at his face, which was covered in acne.

Lin Bei coughed lightly, his cough tinged with embarrassment: "Okay, my face is a bad example. If you don't want to end up like me, you'd better drink it even more."

Su Wantang stared at him for two seconds, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

It wasn't a smile, but it wasn't a lack of smiles either.

She opened the door wider and reached out to take the plastic bag and the insulated container. Her hands were very white, almost translucent, and you could see the bluish veins beneath her skin.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. Just give me the thermos tomorrow, no rush," Lin Bei said.

Su Wantang nodded and prepared to close the door.

"By the way," Lin Bei suddenly said, "my English isn't very good. How's yours?"

Su Wantang paused for a moment: "It's alright."

What score did you get on the high school entrance exam?

"118".

Lin Bei's lips twitched. "Not bad, huh? A perfect score in junior high English is 120, and 118 is considered 'not bad'? Shouldn't his 80 be called 'not so bad'?"