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

Lin Bei turned around and walked back.

When he reached the park entrance, he suddenly stopped and looked back at the tree-lined path.

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

It's exactly the same as in the picture.

But the ending depicted in the film was rewritten.

[The host did something really cool. Although the system usually likes to criticize the host, today the system must say: Well done! Not because the host completed the task, but because the host chose to do it even without expecting any reward. The system really likes this "just did it for no reason" attitude. Although the system has no emotions, if it did, it would be proud of the host.]

Lin Bei's lips curved slightly.

I got home at 6:58.

Wang Xiulan hadn't gotten up yet. The kitchen was quiet.

After taking a shower, Lin Bei changed into a clean set of sportswear.

Then he went out of his house and went to 502, where he had breakfast with Su Wantang.

On the table, the porridge was still hot, and the poached egg was still golden brown on both sides.

Su Wantang glanced at him, probably noticing that he looked a little different today, but didn't ask anything.

Lin Bei didn't say anything either.

He lowered his head and took a sip of porridge, thinking: This morning's porridge is a little sweeter than yesterday's.

He didn't know if she added too much sugar, or if he was just happy about it.

Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School, Grade 1 (3)

The morning sunlight slanted in through the window, cutting a bright ray of light across the desk.

The first class was Chinese. Chen Deming was on the podium, reading the text in a calm and unhurried voice. The old man's tone had a unique rhythm, like a storyteller playing from an old-fashioned gramophone, unhurried yet captivating.

Lin Bei listened to the lecture with his chin propped up, glancing at Su Wantang's seat out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting very upright, her pen occasionally moving as she took notes in her textbook; her focusedness could be felt even from halfway through the classroom.

Her complexion was much better than last week. The bluish ring around her eyes was almost gone, and she no longer shoveled rice around while eating, but instead ate each bite carefully.

Lin Bei stored these changes bit by bit in his memory palace, labeled "Su Wantang, Daily Life," with the date written in parentheses. Not for any particular reason, he just felt he should remember them.

When the bell rang, Chen Deming had just finished teaching the last part. He put the chalk back in the chalk box, dusted his hands, took a sip of water from his teacup, and slowly walked out of the classroom.

The classroom instantly became lively. Some people took a nap at their desks, some took out snacks and started eating, and some gathered together to chat about the online novels they had read the night before.

Lin Bei sat in the last row, took out his English textbook, flipped to Unit 4, and began memorizing vocabulary. The memory palace technique allowed him to memorize words after just one look, but he discovered there was a hurdle between "memorizing" and "mastering." He knew the Chinese meaning of a word, but couldn't recall it when placed in a sentence, and he was completely lost during listening comprehension exercises.

Su Wantang said this was the difference between "passive vocabulary" and "active vocabulary". She knew a lot, so what she said was probably correct.

Just as I was looking at the words, someone walked into the classroom.

Shen Qingzhi.

She missed the first class and only showed up now.

Lin Bei looked up and their eyes met.

Shen Qingzhi glanced at him. Not with her usual cold indifference, but rather she stared at him for two seconds, as if confirming something. Then she looked away, walked to her seat, and sat down quietly, making no sound.

The classroom returned to its lively atmosphere, and no one found it strange. Shen Qingzhi's lateness itself wasn't unusual; what was strange was the look she gave Lin Bei earlier. But everyone quickly forgot about it; after all, it was just a glance, not breaking news.

However, during the second break, the real news arrived.

"Lin Bei".

Shen Qingzhi stood by his desk, looking at him. She wasn't wearing her hair up today; it was loose over her shoulders, the ends slightly curled, making her face look even smaller. Her skin was very white, almost bloodless, and her lips were also pale. She looked like a traditional Chinese ink painting, delicate and understated, without any superfluous colors.

She was holding something in her hand.

The classroom fell silent for a moment. Everyone was looking this way. Shen Qingzhi taking the initiative to talk to someone was news in itself. And the fact that she chose a chubby boy sitting in the last row made it even more newsworthy.

[Classroom silence lasts: 1.5 seconds. During these 1.5 seconds, everyone's gaze shifted from Shen Qingzhi to the host, and then back to Shen Qingzhi, switching back and forth, somewhat like watching a table tennis match.]

"Brother Bei, what's going on?" Zhou Ziheng leaned over from the front, lowering his voice, his eyes behind his glasses gleaming with gossip.

Lin Bei ignored him and looked at Shen Qingzhi: "What's wrong?"

Shen Qingzhi placed the thing in her hand on his desk.

It was an envelope. White, unsealed, bulging, about a finger's thickness.

"Did you save a grandpa in People's Park this morning?" Her voice was soft and calm, no different from usual. But Lin Bei noticed that her eyelashes were trembling slightly.

Why are you asking this?

"Just answer me."

Lin Bei paused for a second, then nodded: "Yes."

Shen Qingzhi's lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded gently.

"That's my grandfather," she said, her voice even softer than before. "Thank you."

Lin Bei was taken aback.

He already knew. He knew from the moment he saw her getting on the bus with the old man at the school gate yesterday. But knowing it was one thing, hearing it from her own mouth felt different.

Her tone was indifferent, but she emphasized the words "thank you" more than usual.

[Analysis of Shen Qingzhi's voice data when she said "thank you": The volume was about 15% lower than usual, but the duration of each word was about 20% longer than usual. This indicates that she was saying those three words very seriously, not perfunctorily. In the system's view, this carries more weight than saying "I'm so touched" a hundred times.]

"It's nothing," Lin Bei said. "It was just a small favor."

Shen Qingzhi glanced at him with a complicated look in her eyes, as if to say, "You saved someone's life and you say it was just a small favor," or as if to say, "Do you have some kind of misunderstanding about 'a small favor'?"

Then she pointed to the envelope on the table.

"This is what my dad asked me to give you. The password is six eights."

Lin Bei looked down at the envelope.

The envelope was a plain white one, with no writing or markings. He reached out and picked it up, squeezing it. It was hard and a little rough to the touch.

It's a card.

"No need to be so polite," Lin Bei said, trying to push the envelope back.

Shen Qingzhi shook her head and didn't answer.

"It's not just politeness," she said. "My dad said it's the right thing to do."

Then she turned and left.

She took two steps, then stopped and looked back at him.

"My dad also said that if I need any help in the future, I should just ask anytime."

She walked back to her seat, sat down, opened her textbook, and acted as if nothing had happened.

The classroom buzzed with excitement again, but many people were still looking this way. Zhou Ziheng leaned closer and whispered, "Brother Bei, what's going on? Did Shen Qingzhi send you a love letter?"

Lin Bei glanced at him: "Can't you think of anything else?"

"Right now, I can only think about two things: novels and gossip. I'm having writer's block on the novel, so I can only think about gossip."

Lin Bei ignored him and stuffed the envelope into his schoolbag.