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

Su Yuan finished his tea, put down the cup, smacked his lips, as if deep in thought. He glanced at Lin Jianhua, then at his empty teacup, ran his fingers along the rim of the cup a couple of times, and spoke.

"Brother Jianhua, how's your current situation... going into real estate with a friend?"

Lin Jianhua leaned back on the sofa, a teacup in his hand, his posture relaxed: "It's alright. Better than a sports car. I used to come home once or twice a month, but now I can come home for dinner every day. As for income... it's better than before. But most importantly, it's close to home, so I feel at ease."

He paused, then smiled, "And after working with Lao Chen for a while, I've finally started to understand the ropes. I used to think real estate was just about building and selling houses, but there's so much more to it than that. Location, apartment layout, amenities, policies... you have to think about every single one of them."

Su Yuan listened intently, his body unconsciously leaning forward slightly. He put down his teacup, rubbed his hands together, and remained silent for a moment before raising his head.

Lin Bei noticed that his gaze was different from before. It was no longer the burning light ignited by the pyramid scheme lecturer, but a light that slowly shone after he calmed down.

"Brother Jianhua, I have something to tell you."

Lin Jianhua looked at him.

Su Yuan took a deep breath: "I want to change jobs. I've been doing this job for several years now, but I haven't saved much money, and I'm exhausted. I know I'm not very capable, but... for the past month, I've been thinking that I can't keep living like this, drifting aimlessly."

He paused, his voice lowering slightly, "Tangtang's mother passed away early, and I haven't accomplished anything these past few years. You just mentioned that the real estate market is doing well, and I've seen the news; house prices have been rising steadily. I was thinking... could I give it a try working with you?"

The living room fell silent for a moment.

Lin Jianhua didn't answer immediately. He picked up his teacup, took a sip, then put it down, tapping his fingers lightly twice on his knee. The rhythm was neither fast nor slow, as if he were thinking something over in his mind.

Then he spoke: "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," Su Yuan said, his tone more steady than before. "I'm not afraid of being tired, nor am I afraid of learning from scratch. I'm just afraid of having no direction."

Wang Xiulan sat at the other end of the sofa, having peeled the last segment of the orange in her hand. She didn't hand it over, but held it tightly in her palm, as if afraid that handing it over now would interrupt something.

Lin Jianhua nodded: "Okay. I'll talk to my friend Lao Chen. He's planning to open another branch and is short-staffed. If you're willing to come, you can give it a try. The real estate brokerage industry doesn't have a high barrier to entry, but to do well, you have to be willing to go out, willing to learn, and willing to take losses. As long as you can handle it."

"I can handle it," Su Yuan replied quickly. "I used to work on construction sites, earning eight yuan a day carrying bricks. Can being a real estate agent be more tiring than carrying bricks?"

Lin Jianhua chuckled: "That's not necessarily true. Moving bricks is physically tiring, but being a real estate agent is tiring both physically and mentally. If a client views ten properties but doesn't buy, you have to accompany them ten times, and you still have to smile and say 'no rush.' As long as you can handle it."

Su Yuan smiled too, a smile carrying a certainty he hadn't shown before: "I can handle it."

Su Yuan took it, lowered his head, took a bite, and chewed it a couple of times. Then he looked up, glanced at Wang Xiulan, then at Lin Jianhua, and finally his gaze fell on Lin Bei. His smile was more relaxed than ever before.

Lin Bei sat on the single chair opposite him, his empty teacup still in his hand.

Suddenly, something came to mind.

The next few years were the peak period for real estate development. He remembered clearly that from 2013 to 2016, housing prices in Jiangcheng more than doubled. Those properties in good locations saw even greater increases. He had checked the data online and had also heard Chen Guodong discuss the market with his father.

Su Yuan chose the right path this time.

It's not about empty promises like "invest 10,000 and double your money." It's about building a solid foundation, opening stores one by one, and selling houses one by one. This path is slow, but reliable. They won't run away, your money won't be frozen, and you won't be left standing in front of a locked office building in the middle of the night, lost in thought.

Su Wantang sat on a low stool, holding half an apple in her hand. She lowered her head, took a small bite, chewed slowly, and remained silent.

Lin Jianhua picked up the teapot and poured Su Yuan another cup of tea: "Then it's settled. I'll take you to see Old Chen tomorrow, and you two can talk it over in person."

"Okay." Su Yuan picked up his teacup.

Wang Xiulan stood up, took away the empty plate of orange peels, and as she walked past Lin Bei, she glanced down at him without saying a word, but the smile on her lips was even deeper than before.

The TV in the living room was still playing a variety show, with bursts of laughter, but nobody was actually watching.

Lin Jianhua poured Su Yuan another half cup of tea, and the two leaned against the sofa, chatting casually about the ins and outs of the real estate agency business.

Su Yuan listened attentively, nodding occasionally and taking a sip of tea occasionally, but he didn't talk incessantly like before.

After washing her hands, Wang Xiulan returned and sat down at the other end of the sofa. She picked up the dark blue sweater that was mostly finished knitting and began to knit slowly and deliberately. After a few stitches, she looked up and glanced at Su Wantang sitting across the coffee table.

Su Wantang was finishing the last bite of her apple, placing the core on the edge of the plate. She then took a tissue and wiped her fingers with light, steady movements. After wiping her fingers, she didn't stand up immediately but remained seated.

Wang Xiulan knitted two more rows, then held up the sweater to compare. The stitches were even, the color was dark blue, and it was Lin Bei's size. "This one is almost finished. I can wear it in another day or two."

Su Wantang's gaze fell on the sweater: "It's very well knitted."

She paused, then added, "The color is beautiful too."

"Dark blue, it's dirt-resistant." Wang Xiulan put the sweater back on her lap and started sewing again. "When Beibei was little, he loved wearing dark-colored clothes. Light-colored clothes would get dirty after a day, and he couldn't get them clean no matter how much he washed them. Now he's cleaner than before, but dark colors still suit him better."

She knitted a few stitches, then suddenly stopped, looked up, and her gaze fell on Su Wantang over the coffee table.

"Wantang, what's your favorite color?"

Su Wantang was clearly taken aback, her knuckles tightening slightly, as if she hadn't realized for a moment that the question was directed at her.

The conversation in the living room briefly subsided. Su Yuan and Lin Jianhua simultaneously stopped talking, their gazes both falling on Su Wantang. Su Wantang felt the weight of those gazes, and her eyelashes trembled slightly.

"I..." she began, her voice even softer than before, "pale blue."

She paused for a moment, "My mom used to knit me a light blue sweater. It had two white stripes on the cuffs and a round neck. I wore it for several years. Later, the cuffs wore out, and my mom mended it for me again. After the mending, the two stripes were a little crooked, but I didn't mind. I wore it until... until I couldn't wear it anymore."

There was a moment of silence in the living room. Wang Xiulan stopped knitting, resting the needles on her knees, without making another stitch.

She lowered her head, looking at the dark blue sweater in her hands, her fingers gently tracing the stitches as if identifying something. After several seconds, she spoke, her voice lower than before, the ending tone carrying an unusual gentleness.

"Your mother..." she paused, "taught me how to knit."