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

Lin Bei walked towards Su Wantang.

She stood in the shade of a tree, holding a bottle of water. When she saw him walking over, she handed it to him.

"Thirty-seven," she said softly, "more than last time."

Lin Bei was taken aback: "Last time? What last time?"

"You did more than twenty jumps by yourself last week," Su Wantang said. "I saw it. Downstairs."

Lin Bei remembered. One afternoon last week, he had indeed practiced jump rope downstairs. He had done several sets on and off, the longest set being around twenty jumps, leaving him exhausted. It was getting dark, and he thought no one had seen him.

"You saw it?"

"Mmm." Su Wantang lowered her head, her voice even softer, "I saw it from the window."

Lin Bei looked at her.

The tips of her ears were a little red.

Lin Bei didn't say anything.

He unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and took a big gulp.

The water was cold, but my heart was warm.

When the school bell rang, Lin Bei, as usual, rode his electric bike home with Su Wantang.

The twilights at the end of September were getting shorter and shorter; as soon as the sun set, the sky quickly darkened. The streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, making the two people's shadows long.

When Lin Bei rode his electric bike downstairs in the residential area, he saw a silver-gray van parked at the entrance of the building.

It was my father's car.

Did his dad not drive today?

Lin Bei parked the car, and Su Wantang jumped out of the back seat.

"Your dad's back," she said.

"Um."

"Then you should go upstairs quickly." After saying that, Su Wantang turned around and walked into the stairwell.

Lin Bei locked his car and went upstairs.

Upon opening the door to 501, two people were sitting in the living room: Lin Jianhua and Chen Guodong.

On the coffee table were several sheets of paper and a pot of tea. Lin Jianhua's teacup was empty, while Chen Guodong's was still full, with a few tea leaves floating on top, already turned white from steeping.

"Dad, Uncle Chen." Lin Bei changed his shoes and walked in.

"Beibei, you're back?" Lin Jianhua pointed to the sofa next to him. "Sit down, your Uncle Chen has something to tell you."

Lin Bei sat down.

Chen Guodong put down his teacup, picked up a piece of paper from the coffee table, and handed it to him.

"Xiao Lin, they came to survey the old town area today."

Lin Bei took the paper and glanced at it.

It wasn't an official document, but a handwritten record. It listed several pieces of information: survey time, number of surveyors, survey area, and survey equipment. The handwriting was messy, but the content was very detailed.

"Your Uncle Chen asked around," Lin Jianhua said from the side.

Chen Guodong said, "A friend of mine works in the district. He said the redevelopment plan for this area has been submitted and is just waiting for approval. The survey is a preliminary preparation, which means the approval will be soon."

Lin Bei leaned back on the sofa, looking at the paper.

The survey is underway, the approval is imminent, and the announcement won't be far off.

"The contract is signed, and the transfer procedures are all completed," Chen Guodong said, with a hint of relief in his voice. "You're really lucky. If it had been two days later, the housing authority would have received a notice to suspend the process."

"Thank you, Uncle Chen."

"What are you thanking me for?" Chen Guodong picked up the now-cold tea, took a sip, and put the cup down. "I've been a real estate agent for so many years, and this is the first time I've seen someone buy a house so efficiently."

Chen Guodong stood up and patted his pants.

"I'll be going now. Jianhua, I'll treat you to drinks another day."

Lin Jianhua also stood up: "Okay. This time it's on me."

"You said the same thing last time."

"This time it's for real."

"You said the same thing the time before last."

Lin Jianhua: "..."

Chen Guodong left, and the door closed.

The living room fell silent.

Lin Jianhua sat back on the sofa, picked up his teacup, found it was empty, and put it down.

"Beibei".

"Um."

"If the old town is really demolished, what will happen to your houses..." He paused, "...what are your plans?"

Lin Bei thought for a moment.

"Wait for the announcement. Once the announcement comes out and the price goes up, then we'll talk," he said. "There's no rush now. It's those who want to buy who are in a hurry, not us."

Lin Jianhua looked at him for a few seconds.

"Where did you learn to say those things?"

Lin Bei was taken aback.

"I didn't learn it from anyone. I just felt that it should be this way."

Lin Jianhua nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

He stood up and went into the kitchen.

"Xiulan, is dinner ready? I'm hungry."

Wang Xiulan's voice came from the kitchen: "Almost done, almost done, don't rush us. Rushing us won't speed things up."

Lin Bei stood up and walked to the kitchen door.

He glanced at the plate of braised pork ribs on the stove; they were a bright red color and glistening with oil.

"Mom, there are only ten days left until my monthly exam."

"so what?"

"So I need to eat more today, to nourish my brain."

Wang Xiulan looked at him for two seconds, then picked up three pieces of pork ribs from the plate and put them in his bowl.

"Eat up, eat up. Study hard after you finish eating. If you don't do well on the monthly exam, you'll have bamboo shoots stir-fried with pork when you get back."

Lin Bei looked down at the three pieces of pork ribs in the bowl, then looked up at his mother.

Stir-fried bamboo shoots with pork.

That was the "family discipline" his mother used to threaten him when he failed his exams as a child. The bamboo shoots were the bamboo twigs of the broom, and the "flesh" was his buttocks.

"Mom, how old am I? Why are you still talking about bamboo shoots stir-fried with pork?"

"No matter how old he is, he's still my son. If he doesn't do well on the exam, I'll still beat him."

Lin Jianhua chuckled beside him, his laughter carrying a hint of schadenfreude and a sense of detachment, as if to say, "I don't care about this."

[Based on the host's current physique, the host's mother's "bamboo shoot and pork" threat suggests that she might need an extra-long broom to hit the host's buttocks. This is because the host's stomach has become a natural air cushion. It is recommended that the host continue to lose weight to reduce this "air cushion," making the beating more painful. Although the system does not recommend the host be hit, it finds this logic sound.]

Lin Bei ignored the system and sat down to eat.

After finishing his meal and washing the dishes, he returned to his bedroom and closed the door.

Lin Bei leaned against the door and let out a long breath. Then he smiled silently, clenched his right fist, and gently waved it in the air.

Six houses.

The survey has arrived, and the approval will be granted soon.

Lin Bei walked to the desk and sat down, the smile on his lips slowly fading away.

He opened the novel's backend and took a look.

Collections: 523.

It increased by more than twenty, and the number of comments in the comment section also increased by more than a dozen.

Lin Bei opened his notes app and started writing his novel. He wrote for over an hour, did dozens of push-ups, and then took a shower.

He lay down on the bed, turned over, and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

The scene from noon today automatically flashed through his mind. Su Wantang was sitting opposite him, holding that pink thermos, pouring out radish and pork rib soup, and pushing it in front of him.

Lin Bei watched the scene again.

Then she turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

Damn it, this memory palace contains too many images of Su Wantang, making it hard to fall asleep at night.

[Host, the system has detected that your heart rate has not yet decreased. We suggest you count sheep. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep...]

Lin Bei started counting sheep. When he counted to the seventeenth sheep, the sheep turned into Su Wantang's face. The eighteenth sheep did the same, and the nineteenth sheep did too.

[...Or the host could try counting other things. For example, counting how many houses they own.]

Lin Bei paused for a moment, then began counting the houses: Ganghe Street, Tongbai Lane, two houses in Zhifang Lane, Liudi Lane, and Maoshu Lane.

Six sets.

After counting six sets, he thought of Su Wantang again.

[...The system retracts its suggestion. The host is beyond saving.]