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

on Monday.

Lin Bei had just arrived in the classroom and walked to Zhou Ziheng's seat, his schoolbag still in his hand.

Zhou Ziheng looked up, and the dark circles under his eyes were a shade darker than last week. The color was somewhere between a panda and a zombie, a standard feature of someone who had stayed up until 3 a.m.

"Brother Bei, I wrote for almost two whole days over the weekend." His voice was hoarse from staying up all night. "Besides sleeping six hours a day, I spent almost all my time writing. If I wasn't worried about dying young, I wouldn't have slept at all."

Lin Bei looked him up and down: "Those dark circles under your eyes, didn't you scare yourself when you looked in the mirror?"

"I was scared," Zhou Ziheng said seriously. "But I comforted myself by saying that this is called the 'medal of online writers'."

"The badges of honor for online writers are cervical spondylosis and tenosynovitis, not dark circles under their eyes."

"Then this is my 'preparatory medal'."

Lin Bei was taken aback for a moment. "So how much have you written these past two days?"

"Twenty thousand words." Zhou Ziheng stood up, handed him his phone, his eyes sparkling. "Take a look and give me your opinion."

Lin Bei took it and glanced at it.

He read a few lines, and his lips began to twitch.

The protagonist, Lin Feng, dropped from 200 pounds to 180 pounds by "eating only one meal a day and running 20 kilometers".

Lin Bei looked up at Zhou Ziheng: "Are you trying to lose weight or commit suicide?"

"Artistic exaggeration." Zhou Ziheng pushed up his glasses, speaking seriously. "Novels, after all, originate from life but transcend it. If you run five kilometers every day, I'll write about running twenty kilometers; that's called 'literary processing.'"

"What if you only eat one meal a day?"

"That's called 'dramatic conflict'," Zhou Ziheng said confidently. "The protagonist always has to go through some hardships to grow. Look at Xiao Yan, he was jilted, his fighting spirit was crippled, he was hunted down... I only made him go hungry for a few meals, which is already very merciful. And think about it, when readers see the protagonist suffering so much, they'll definitely feel sorry for him."

Lin Bei stared at him for three seconds.

"Are you sure the readers won't think the protagonist is an idiot?"

Zhou Ziheng paused for a moment, his lips moved a few times, as if silently repeating the sentence. Then his expression began to change, from "confident" to "thoughtful," and then from "thoughtful" to "somewhat guilty."

"I haven't thought about that question yet."

"Now you can think about it."

Zhou Ziheng fell silent. He lowered his head, staring at his phone, scrolling to that particular passage, reading it over and over again. Then he looked up, his expression complex: "Brother Bei, do you think my book is bad?"

Lin Bei looked at him. If he said "yes," Zhou Ziheng might collapse on the spot; if he said "no," he would be lying.

He handed the phone back to Zhou Ziheng: "No matter how you write it, the premise is that it has to be reasonable. If you write that the protagonist only eats one meal a day and runs 20 kilometers, and a 200-pound person running 20 kilometers burns about... well, I won't calculate it in detail, anyway, he'll end up in the ICU."

Zhou Ziheng was stunned for a moment.

After about five seconds, he slowly sat back down in his chair and stared at his phone for a while.

"Brother Bei."

"Um."

"you're right."

His voice was soft, but earnest.

Lin Bei looked at him. It was unusual that the skinny man didn't try to argue, and Lin Bei felt a little uncomfortable with that.

The probability of Zhou Ziheng admitting his mistake is roughly equal to the probability of the host being confessed to by Su Wantang.

Lin Bei ignored the system.

"Then I'll rewrite it?" Zhou Ziheng raised his head, his eyes shining with a light... not the sudden realization of "I understand," but the certainty of "I know where to go."

"It's your decision."

Zhou Ziheng nodded. He lowered his head, swiped his finger across the screen, found the relevant section, selected it, and deleted it.

The movements were slow, but resolute. Like pulling out a crooked tooth...it hurt, but you knew it had to be done.

Lin Bei didn't say anything more and walked back to his seat.

The first class in the morning is math.

Gu Yuanshan walked into the classroom as the school bell rang, placed his lesson plan on the podium, and glanced around the classroom.

Tell me something.

The classroom fell silent. Even Zhang Mingyuan, who was sitting in the last row biting his nails, took his hand out of his mouth.

"The monthly exam is followed immediately by the parent-teacher conference."

As soon as the words were spoken, several students in the front row stiffened simultaneously. The stiffness wasn't from fear, but rather the kind of stiffness that comes from "being mentally prepared but still feeling like the sky is falling when you hear the definite news."

Old Gu continued, "When the time comes, your first monthly exam report card will be sent directly to your parents. Your grade ranking, class ranking, and scores for each subject will all be clearly displayed."

A few low moans came from the back row.

Old Gu's gaze swept around the classroom, finally landing on Wang Jun.

"Wang Jun, what are you howling about?"

"Teacher, I didn't yell." Wang Jun stood up, looking completely innocent. "I was just a little nervous thinking about the parent-teacher conference."

"What's the panic?"

"I'm worried about my mom's reaction when she sees the report card." Wang Jun scratched his head. "But I've thought of something... Before the parent-teacher conference, I'll give my mom a 'pre-conference briefing'."

"What report?"

"I wanted to give my mom a heads-up before she saw the report card," Wang Jun said, counting on his fingers. "First, in case I didn't do well on the monthly exam, I wanted to give her a heads-up. Second, I wanted to assure her that I would catch up on everything I didn't understand before the midterm exam. Although this goal is a bit ambitious for me... I wanted to make my stance clear first. That way, when she sees the report card, she'll be mentally prepared and won't be shocked on the spot."

Old Gu looked at him, his lips twitching slightly: "What's wrong with you...?"

"Management of lowered expectations," Wang Jun replied with a smile, his tone carrying a sense of smugness that said, "I know this term is a bit grandiose, but it fits perfectly here." "Many large companies do this. They give shareholders a heads-up beforehand so that the stock price won't plummet when the financial report comes out."

He paused, then patted his chest.

"My mom is my shareholder, and my report card is my financial statement."

The classroom fell silent for a moment.

It wasn't mockery... there was no malice in that laughter, but rather a feeling of "only he could say something like that."

Old Gu's lips twitched: "You have a pretty thorough understanding of yourself."

"Of course," Wang Jun said. "Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated. Although I've been a little 'defeated' in my studies for the time being, I've never been 'defeated' in my mindset."

Old Gu glanced at him, a hint of something unreadable in his voice: "You have a good attitude, don't you?"

"There's nothing I can do," Wang Jun smiled, his voice suddenly softening a little, "Someone like me would have collapsed long ago if I didn't have a good mentality."

The classroom fell silent again.

This silence was different from before. The lingering warmth of the laughter from before was now gently drowned out by those words.

Some people understood the underlying meaning of those words... the things hidden behind the joke, about "how a fat person with bad grades can survive among this group of people."

Some people didn't understand and just remained silent.

Old Gu didn't reply. He waved his hand, gesturing for Wang Jun to sit down.

"Alright. Now, let's begin the lesson."

The sound of turning pages filled the classroom.

Lin Bei watched Wang Jun's retreating figure as he sat down, a thought flickering in his heart. This fat guy, his grades aren't great, but his attitude is really good. Not the kind of carefree good, but the kind... knowing he might not do well on the test, yet still smiling and trying to find a way to improve.

He recalled his past life. He would panic when he did poorly on a test, and when he panicked, he would hide, and when he hid, things only got worse. He had never been like Wang Jun, standing in front of his report card, first thinking about how to explain it to the "shareholders."

Lin Bei withdrew his gaze and opened his textbook. His eyes swept over the function graphs, and his mind began to automatically record them.

But instead of taking notes, he glanced at Zhou Ziheng sitting in front of him. Zhou Ziheng was looking down, his phone hidden under his textbook, the screen seemingly showing the comments section of his novel.

Lin Bei turned his gaze back to the blackboard.

Parents' meeting.

In his previous life, his mother always came back from parent-teacher conferences with a sour expression, but she never scolded him. She would just say, "The teacher said you talk a lot in class." He didn't care at the time, but now, thinking back on it, he only feels heartbroken.

This life is different.

He has a memory palace, he runs five kilometers every morning, and Su Wantang helps him with his English.

Top ten in the class in the monthly exam.

He wants his mother to be able to look up at his report card at the parent-teacher meeting without having to hide it.