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

the next day.

In the morning, Lin Bei went for a run as usual, and then went to 502 to eat the breakfast made by Su Wantang.

After finishing breakfast, Lin Bei returned to room 501 to pack his schoolbag, slung it over his shoulder, and went out.

Su Wantang was already standing at the entrance of the building, carrying her schoolbag and wearing her school uniform.

Lin Bei pushed out the electric scooter and patted the back seat: "Get in."

Su Wantang sat down sideways, her hands naturally resting on his waist.

Lin Bei didn't know what this meant, but every time she leaned on him, his back would stiffen for a fraction of a second.

Today is no exception.

[Su Wantang's hand is now about 2 centimeters lower on the host's waist than last week. This position is closer... never mind, if I say anything, the host won't be able to ride a bike anymore.]

Lin Bei cursed inwardly, turned the handlebars, and the electric scooter started off wobbly.

Just as I stepped out of the residential compound, a black sedan slowly drove past.

The car window rolled down, revealing Wang Jun's round face.

"Brother Bei!" He leaned against the car window, glancing first at Lin Bei, then at Su Wantang's hand on Lin Bei's waist, "You're... carrying a girl on the back of your electric scooter?"

Lin Bei said expressionlessly, "Go to school."

"I go to school too." Wang Jun's gaze swept back and forth between Lin Bei and Su Wantang, a slow smile spreading across his face, and then he gave a thumbs up.

Before the car window rolled up, a voice drifted out: "Hey Bei, keep it up! I was talking about losing weight."

Lin Bei watched the car's taillights disappear at the intersection and remained silent for two seconds.

Su Wantang's hand was still on his waist, and she didn't let go.

"...Let's go," she said.

Lin Bei turned the handle and continued driving towards the school.

I had just arrived in the classroom when I passed by Zhou Ziheng.

Zhou Ziheng looked up. His eyes behind his glasses were bloodless, but the rims were red.

"Brother Bei, my book has been destroyed."

His voice was very soft, unlike the usual noisy, skinny man.

"What's wrong?"

"The editor said my book's data was too poor and wouldn't recommend it anymore," Zhou Ziheng said. "He said, 'Your subject matter is too niche, I suggest you change your subject matter and start a new book.'"

He paused for a moment, then said, "I've written 100,000 words, and he just changes them like that."

Lin Bei looked at him.

What are you thinking?

"I don't know," Zhou Ziheng said. "My dad said that writing novels shouldn't be taken too seriously. My mom doesn't know I write novels, but if she did, she would definitely tell me to focus on my studies."

"But I don't want to give up." He looked up, his eyes still red, but there was a light in them. "Brother Bei, do you think I'm stupid? I wrote 100,000 words, and it flopped, but I still don't want to give up."

Lin Bei looked into his eyes.

Those eyes held resentment, confusion, grievance, and something else that was hard to describe.

That kind of thing is called passion.

"You're not stupid," Lin Bei said. "You're just unwilling to accept it. Being unwilling to accept it and being stupid are two different things. An unwilling person can still stand up, but a stupid person lies down and doesn't move."

Zhou Ziheng was silent for a few seconds, his lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh, but the smile vanished before it reached his eyes.

"Brother Bei, I'll drink this bowl of chicken soup."

"This isn't just motivational fluff," Lin Bei said. "It's the truth. Whether you write well or not is one thing, whether you want to continue writing is another. If you don't write well, you can practice; if you don't want to write anymore, then it's really over."

"Brother Bei, how come you speak so eloquently? Have you secretly read some books on public speaking and eloquence?"

"no."

"Then where did you get these words from?"

Lin Bei thought for a moment: "It's probably something I accumulated in my past life."

Zhou Ziheng thought he was joking and laughed a few times.

"Then I won't switch. As a reader, I hate authors who abandon their books halfway through, only to have the book end abruptly." He said seriously, "No matter what, I'm going to finish this one. If it flops, so be it, I'll start a new one. Anyway, I'm still young, I have plenty of time."

"That's more like you."

"Brother Bei."

"Um."

"Your book, 'Rebirth of the Strongest Male God,' has over 500 favorites, right?"

"Hmm, five hundred and one."

Zhou Ziheng looked at him with a complicated expression: "I wrote 100,000 words and have 87 favorites. You wrote less than 50,000 words and have over 500 favorites. Comparing people is infuriating, and comparing books is just asking for trouble."

"Your book is also..." Lin Bei paused, "...not that bad."

He felt a little guilty, but as a good brother, he couldn't be too harsh on him.

"Your book title sounds too much like a study guide. 'Memoirs of a Top Student on Campus'—anyone who didn't know better would think it's a summary of study methods written by a top scorer in the college entrance exam."

Zhou Ziheng was stunned for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh.

"Holy crap! Brother Bei, you're absolutely right!" He pulled out his phone and typed rapidly in his notes app, "I'll change the title as soon as I get back!"

"Change what?"

"Rebirth of the Strongest Academic Genius!" Zhou Ziheng's eyes lit up. "Your book title has 'strongest' in it, and mine also has 'strongest' in it. Readers can immediately tell they're from the same series!"

Lin Bei's lips twitched: "Are you trying to ride the coattails of this trend? My book only has five hundred favorites..."

"Five hundred favorites is still a bit of buzz!" Zhou Ziheng said confidently. "Even a mosquito's leg is meat. Besides, I have high hopes for you. Your book is bound to be a hit sooner or later. When that happens, I'll be a 'veteran fan who joined early,' which will be quite prestigious."

He grinned, revealing a set of bright white teeth, and his entire demeanor transformed from "dejected" to "energetic" in less than thirty seconds.

With that speed of emotional shifts, it's a shame she's not an actor.

[Zhou Ziheng's emotional recovery speed is approximately 3.2 seconds. This speed is about 10 times faster than the host's recovery speed after being mocked by the system. It is recommended that the host learn from Zhou Ziheng and become a person who is "thick-skinned, quick to recover, and resilient in the face of setbacks." Although the host's skin is already thick enough, there is still much room for improvement in recovery speed.]

"Also, I need to optimize and revise the previous content. Poor data means my book is still not well-written," Zhou Ziheng added.

Lin Bei smiled, said nothing more, and walked to his seat.

During the break between the second period in the morning.

Lin Bei was organizing his math notes when his phone vibrated.

He picked it up and saw that it was a message from Chen Guodong:

"Xiao Lin, the contract for that apartment in Liudi Lane is signed. It's 445,000 yuan, which is 5,000 yuan lower than the 450,000 yuan you mentioned. Your Uncle Chen's bargaining skills are still up to par."

Lin Bei smiled slightly and replied, "Thank you, Uncle Chen. I'll have my dad treat you to drinks another day."

Chen Guodong replied instantly: "Your dad owes me enough liquor to open a liquor store. He said he'd treat me to Moutai last time, but I haven't even seen a bottle cap yet. Go back and tell your dad that if he doesn't come soon, the interest will be calculated daily, one bottle more per day."

Lin Bei smiled and placed his phone face down on the table.

Fifth set, secured.

The third lesson is math.

Old Gu walked into the classroom as the school bell rang, his hair still perfectly styled and his leather shoes still gleaming.

Instead of giving a lecture today, he took a piece of paper from his lesson plan, unfolded it, and used a magnet to attach it to the blackboard.

"This is the distribution of your seniors' first monthly exam scores." Old Gu pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses. "The top student in the grade scored 998, and the last student scored 321. Look at the difference for yourselves. Of course, those sitting in the back might not be able to see it clearly, so I'll read it to you."

He wrote two numbers on the blank space of the blackboard with chalk: 998 and 321.

"998 points. Do you think that score is high? Yes. But do you know how many points this senior scored on his first monthly exam in his first year of high school? Just over 600."

A low murmur arose in the classroom.