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

The bell rang for the last class of the afternoon.

Lin Bei packed his schoolbag and walked to Su Wantang's seat. She had already finished packing and was stuffing her English textbook into her schoolbag.

"Let's go," she said.

The two walked out of the teaching building together and headed towards the bicycle shed. Lin Bei pushed the dark blue electric scooter out of the shed, and Su Wantang sat on the back seat, her hands naturally resting on his waist.

This has become a habit.

The electric scooter drove out of the school gate and walked along the sycamore-lined avenue.

At the school gate, cars and people come and go.

It was rush hour after school, and the entrance was crowded with parents picking up their children and various vehicles. Lin Bei slowed down and carefully drove through the crowd.

Just then, he caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye.

An old man stood beside a stone pillar at the school gate, wearing a dark gray jacket, with gray hair, and carrying a dark blue cloth bag. He was looking into the campus, as if waiting for someone.

Lin Bei's gaze lingered on the old man for a second.

Then, the world changed.

A scene suddenly exploded in his field of vision, as if someone had played a video directly in his mind.

In the video, an elderly man is jogging. He's wearing a dark blue tracksuit and running briskly along a tree-lined path. Then he suddenly stops, clutching his chest, his expression shifting from focused to pained. His lips turn purple, his face pale, and fine beads of sweat appear on his forehead. He frantically searches his pockets… left pocket, nothing; right pocket, nothing either.

Then he collapsed.

The image freezes, then slowly fades out.

Lin Bei's fingers suddenly tightened around the handlebars.

It's a heart condition.

He was all too familiar with these symptoms. In his previous life, before his mother passed away, he had spent a month caring for her in the hospital. There were three heart patients in the ward. The old man in the next bed had an attack twice a day, morning and evening, and each time he had the same symptoms: clutching his chest, turning pale, and his lips turning purple. When the nurse came, she would shout, "Quick-acting nitroglycerin pills," and instruct him to take them sublingually, not swallow them. He heard this for a whole month; he could recite it by heart.

The old man couldn't be saved, but he remembered the name of the medicine and the action of "sublingual administration".

People's Park. He recognized the place in the picture. The tree-lined path, the wrought-iron fence, the little river… he saw them every morning when he cycled through People's Park. There was fog in the picture, a very thick fog, a white blur. It was early morning.

It's a little past 5 PM now. The foreseeable crisis is within 24 hours, which is tomorrow morning.

Something bad will happen to the elderly.

Lin Bei's mind raced, but before he could figure out what to do, a familiar figure emerged from the campus.

Shen Qingzhi.

She was wearing a school uniform, her long hair draped over her shoulders, and holding a notebook in her hand as she walked straight toward the old man.

"grandfather."

Her voice wasn't loud, but Lin Bei heard it clearly.

The wrinkles on the old man's face instantly smoothed out, and he smiled like a child: "Qingzhi, school's out?"

"Didn't we agree that you didn't need to pick me up?" Shen Qingzhi walked to the old man's side and naturally took his arm.

"On the way, on the way," the old man said with a smile, handing her the cloth bag he was carrying. "Pork and cabbage filling, your favorite."

Shen Qingzhi took the bag, opened it, glanced at it, and smiled slightly.

That was the first time Lin Bei saw Shen Qingzhi smile.

So she can laugh.

It turns out that even the "ice queen" has someone she cares about.

The old man patted her on the shoulder, and the two walked towards a black sedan parked by the roadside. The driver respectfully opened the back door, the old man got in first, and Shen Qingzhi followed.

The car door closed, and the sedan slowly drove away.

Lin Bei's electric scooter remained stationary.

"Lin Bei?" Su Wantang's voice came from behind.

He snapped out of his daze, loosened his grip on the handlebars, and found his palms were sweaty.

"It's nothing," he said, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat and turned the handlebars.

The electric car continued to move forward.

Lin Bei returned to 501.

He changed his shoes, put down his schoolbag, and went out the door.

He's going to the pharmacy.

There was a small pharmacy right at the entrance of the residential area. The storefront was a bit old, and the glass windows displayed various health products and vitamins. Lin Bei pushed open the door and went inside. A middle-aged woman in a white coat was sitting behind the counter looking at her phone.

"Hello, I'd like to buy some heart medication," Lin Bei said.

The woman looked up and sized him up. A chubby high school student in a school uniform, here to buy heart medication?

Who will use it?

"These are for the elderly in my family," Lin Bei said.

The woman nodded and took out several medicine boxes from under the counter: "Quick-acting heart medicine, nitroglycerin, compound Danshen dripping pills. Which one do you want?"

Lin Bei stared at the medicine boxes, his mind racing.

He didn't know the old man's specific illness. Angina? Myocardial infarction? Or something else? He couldn't tell. He only saw the symptoms on the screen: clutching his chest, pale face, and purple lips. These symptoms pointed to a heart problem, but he didn't know what medication the old man usually took.

What if he bought the wrong one?

Lin Bei's mind raced. In a science video he'd watched in his previous life, a doctor had said that during a heart attack, if the cause is unclear, quick-acting nitroglycerin is the most common emergency option, taking effect rapidly when taken sublingually. Nitroglycerin is more targeted, but it can't be used by patients with low blood pressure; he didn't dare gamble.

"Quick-acting heart medicine," he said.

He paused, then added, "Never mind, two boxes of each, I'll buy them both."

The woman paused for a moment, then asked, "Buy them all?"

"Yes. Better safe than sorry."

He said that, but what he really thought was: if the nitroglycerin pills don't work, at least there's a backup. He'd spend a few extra dollars for peace of mind.

The woman glanced at him, asked no further questions, took six boxes of medicine from the shelf, and put them in a large plastic bag.

Lin Bei paid the money, stuffed the medicine into his backpack, and walked out of the pharmacy, suddenly feeling a little more at ease.

No matter what happens tomorrow, he has done all he could. The rest is up to fate.

When he got home, Wang Xiulan was already back and cooking in the kitchen.

Lin Bei returned to his bedroom and closed the door.

He took the six boxes of medicine out of his bag and placed them on his desk. Two boxes each of quick-acting heart-saving pills, nitroglycerin, and compound Danshen dripping pills.

He needs to find a way to package these things.

There was an old backpack in the bedside table drawer, the one he used in junior high school. It was faded from washing, and the zipper was a bit stiff, but it was still usable. He stuffed six boxes of medicine into the compartment, zipped it up, and placed it on the corner of the bed.

That evening, Lin Bei sat at his desk and checked the old backpack again. Six boxes of medicine were inside, along with the instructions. He flipped through the instructions for the quick-acting heart medicine: four to six pills sublingually. He then looked at the instructions for the nitroglycerin: one tablet sublingually. The compound Danshen dripping pills were to be taken orally or sublingually, ten pills at a time.

He wrote it all down.

Then he opened his phone and glanced at the novel's backend.

Collections: 19.

There were no new comments in the comment section, and the recommendation votes were still the same ones Zhou Ziheng had cast.

[The host's novel's collection count has increased from 12 to 19, an increase of approximately 58%. Although the initial number is concerning, the growth rate is encouraging. At this rate, the host's novel will likely reach... System, let's calculate... Never mind, the host will cry if the calculation is wrong. The system suggests the host not to focus on the data, just concentrate on writing. Anyway, with the host's current appearance, relying on looks is not an option, but talent can still salvage the situation.]