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

Lin Bei ignored the system and started doing push-ups.

After he finished, he lay on the ground, panting heavily.

Then he got up from the ground and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

He lay in bed and closed his eyes.

[The host has to save people tomorrow. It is recommended that the host go to sleep early tonight and not toss and turn thinking about Su Wantang.]

Lin Bei: "..."

The next morning, at 5:30, I woke up half an hour earlier than usual.

Lin Bei woke up before the alarm clock went off.

He opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling for two seconds, then threw off the covers and sat up.

The small dark blue bag on the bedside table was still there. He picked it up, unzipped it, and checked it over; all the medications were there.

He slung his bag over his shoulder, put on his sportswear, and went out.

The corridor was quiet. The door to room 502 was closed.

Su Wantang is probably still asleep.

[The host paused at the door of room 502 for 2.3 seconds. During those 2.3 seconds, the host's brain activity was unusually high, and the system detected frequent occurrences of keywords such as "Su Wantang," "breakfast," "porridge," and "fried egg." The system suggests that the host save the person first, then think about the girl.]

Lin Bei's lips twitched slightly. He went downstairs, got on his electric scooter, and headed towards People's Park.

At 5:30 in the morning, the sky over Jiangcheng was still not fully bright. A faint tinge of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon, and the streets were deserted, with only the occasional taxi passing by.

Lin Bei rode his electric bike through several streets and turned onto the road in front of People's Park.

The park's side gate was open. Two or three elderly people were already coming and going for their morning exercise.

Lin Bei parked his car, walked into the park, and strolled along the tree-lined path.

This is the road.

French plane trees, wrought iron fence, and a small river.

It's exactly the same as in the picture.

He found a spot with a good view, under a large sycamore tree, and stood there with his back against the trunk.

The tree bark was rough, and it hurt his back a little. But he didn't change his spot. Because this spot offered the best view, overlooking the entire tree-lined avenue.

He didn't intend to miss a single second.

Time passed by, second by second.

six o'clock.

6:10.

6:20.

Lin Bei's heart was pounding faster and faster. He touched the medicine in his bag; it was all there.

6:25.

An elderly man wearing a dark blue tracksuit jogged along the tree-lined path.

His steps were steady, his pace neither too fast nor too slow. His hair was gray, but neatly combed. His eyebrows were thick, and his eyes, though not large, were very bright.

It's him.

Lin Bei unconsciously tightened his grip on the bag strap.

The old man glanced at him as he ran past. His gaze lingered briefly on the small, dark blue bag before moving away.

He didn't recognize Lin Bei. Of course he wouldn't; they'd never met before.

Lin Bei watched the old man's retreating figure and followed him.

Not running, but walking. Maintain a distance of twenty or thirty meters, not too close, not too far.

In the intelligence industry, this distance is called "tracking distance," in the paparazzi industry it's called "shooting distance," and in Lin Bei's case it's called "the furthest distance a fat guy like me can maintain without falling behind."

The old man ran a lap along the tree-lined path, about one kilometer.

On the second lap, his pace noticeably slowed down.

Lin Bei noticed it.

It wasn't the slowness of someone who was tired; something was... off.

The old man's breathing became rapid, not normal panting, but a kind of rapid breathing that made him feel like he couldn't breathe in. His steps began to drag, each step heavier than the last.

Then he stopped.

He bent over, one hand supporting his knee, the other hand covering his chest.

Lin Bei didn't wait for him to rummage through his pockets. He had already seen that scene once, and he knew how it would end.

He rushed forward.

The old man's condition was exactly the same as in the video. His face was deathly pale, his lips were bluish-purple, and his forehead was covered in sweat.

The schoolbag bounced behind me.

He ran to the old man's side and squatted down.

"Sir, what's wrong?" Lin Bei tried his best to make his voice sound calm.

The old man looked up and glanced at him.

"I didn't bring the medicine..." The old man's voice was broken and intermittent, as if it were being squeezed out from deep in his throat.

"What medicine?" Lin Bei pressed.

"Quick-acting...heart-saving pills..."

Lin Bei's heart skipped a beat.

He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a box of nitroglycerin tablets from the old backpack.

"I have some, I just happened to have some with me." He handed over the medicine box. "Here you go."

The old man stared at the box of medicine for half a second. His eyes lit up, a light that seemed to appear out of despair.

His hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't open the packaging no matter how many times he tried.

Lin Bei took it back, helped him open it, unscrewed the cap, poured six pills into his palm, and handed it back to him.

The old man took the pill, put it under his tongue, closed his eyes, and leaned against the tree trunk.

Lin Bei supported his shoulders and helped him slowly sit down on the ground.

"Grandpa, don't talk, save your energy." Lin Bei's voice was steady. "Hold the medicine under your tongue, don't swallow it."

The old man nodded slightly.

Lin Bei took out his phone and dialed 120.

"Hello, is this 120? There's an elderly man having a heart attack near the tree-lined avenue in People's Park. I've already given him some nitroglycerin. Please come quickly."

The person on the other end of the phone asked a few questions, which Lin Bei answered one by one. After hanging up, he put his phone back in his pocket.

The old man's breathing was more steady than before. The color of his lips had changed from bluish-purple to dark red, and he was still sweating, but his face was not as pale.

"Sir, how are you feeling?" Lin Bei asked.

The old man opened his eyes and looked at him. There was some light in his eyes again; although he was still very weak, they were no longer as unfocused as before.

"You..." His voice was very soft, almost inaudible, "You're a student, right?"

"Yes, Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School."

The old man's lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to laugh, but he didn't.

My granddaughter... also attends No. 1 Middle School...

Lin Bei's eyes suddenly felt a little hot.

He knew. He had known all along.

"What's her name?" Lin Bei asked.

"Shen Qingzhi".

When the old man said those three words, the corners of his mouth finally curved slightly. It was a smile, very faint, but very genuine.

"She's from Class 3, Grade 11," Lin Bei said. "She's in our class. She's an excellent student and is our class's academic representative."

The old man's eyes lit up, as if something within them had ignited.

"real?"

"real."

The old man slowly raised his hand and grasped Lin Bei's wrist. His hand was cold, but his grip was tight.

"Thank you……"

"Sir, please don't say anything. The ambulance will be here soon."

The old man did not speak again.

But his fingers were still gripping Lin Bei's wrist, and he didn't let go.

A white ambulance turned into the road and stopped at the side of the road. Three paramedics jumped out and ran over with a stretcher.

"What's the patient's condition?" A doctor in a green emergency gown squatted down, asking as he checked the elderly man's vital signs.

"He had a heart attack. I gave him six nitroglycerin tablets, to be taken sublingually." Lin Bei stood up, took two steps back, and gave the paramedics space.

The doctor glanced at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes. A high school student in a tracksuit had given the correct first aid to an elderly man suffering a heart attack.

"What is your relationship to him?" the doctor asked.

"I don't know him," Lin Bei said. "I was jogging in the park when I saw him collapse."

The doctor didn't say anything more, and together with his colleagues, lifted the elderly man onto a stretcher and pushed him into the ambulance.

"By the way, young man, what's your name?" the old man asked.

"Linbei, Shuangmu Lin, Bei in the north."

The moment the car door closed, Lin Bei saw through the car window that the old man was lying on a stretcher, his eyes closed, with an oxygen mask covering half of his face.

But a faint smile still seemed to linger on the corners of his mouth.

The ambulance drove away with its siren blaring, the sound growing fainter and fainter until it finally disappeared into the morning mist.

Lin Bei stood there, staring blankly in the direction the ambulance had disappeared for a few seconds.

Then he looked down at his hands. His palms still felt cool, as if the old man had held them.

[The host just saved someone. The system suggests the host have a good breakfast when they get back; you deserve an extra chicken leg as a reward today. Although you're on a diet, an exception will be made today. The system approves.]