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

Increase his IQ? He scored 125 in math, 82 in physics, and 84 in chemistry in the monthly exam, and these three subjects dragged down his overall score. To get into the top five in the next monthly exam, his science scores must improve. He has indeed felt that since his IQ has increased, many things have become much easier to handle.

Add charm? 17 points is enough. Su Wantang didn't complain, Zhou Ziheng didn't run away, and Wang Jun still joked with him.

Improve my looks? A score of 6 to 11 might clear up some acne, improve my skin, and make me look better in the mirror. But if I don't improve my math and science, I still won't be in the top five in the next monthly exam. As for looks, I can wait.

Add emotional intelligence? 38 points, not high, but enough. With Su Wantang, it's not about sweet talk, but sincerity and actions; with classmates like Zhou Ziheng and Wang Jun, normal communication is sufficient; playing chess with Grandpa Shen, the focus is on companionship, not rhetoric. As for someone of Shen Wancheng's caliber… at his current level, even if his emotional intelligence were increased to 60, he'd still be seen as a child. Emotional intelligence is more valuable in complex interpersonal relationships, and his current social circle is school, home, and the Shen family… actually quite simple.

So, emotional intelligence... let's leave it at that for now. Anyway, it will gradually improve through daily interactions, so a few more points won't make a difference.

His finger hovered between "IQ" and "appearance" for a moment, but finally stopped at IQ.

Having good looks is useful, but having high intelligence is even more useful.

He silently prayed to himself: Add 5 points to my IQ.

The panel has been refreshed.

IQ score: 77/100.

Available attribute points: 0.

He sensed it. It wasn't the kind of sudden enlightenment where his mind suddenly became smarter; it was more like... clarity. It was like a computer clearing its cache, closing unused background programs, and its running speed improving.

He casually flipped open the math workbook on the table, found a difficult problem he hadn't solved in the monthly exam, and reviewed it again.

The problem was still the same, but looking at it now, his thinking was much clearer than before. Which formula to use, which direction to deduce, where the traps were... it was as if someone had drawn a line in his mind, and following it would lead him to the destination.

It's not that the questions have become easier, it's that his brain is processing them more smoothly.

Lin Bei smiled slightly and closed the workbook.

He then checked the novel's backend again.

Collections: 1007.

The book has surpassed 1,000 favorites, and the comment section has seen over a dozen new messages. "The author has some talent!" "Good writing, keep it up, author!" "I'm waiting for updates every day, please update soon!!!"

Lin Bei smiled slightly and quickly began writing a new chapter.

……

Saturday.

Lin Bei arrived at Yunqi Villa twenty minutes earlier than the agreed time.

He had just reached the door of Villa No. 8 when the old man's voice came from inside: "Xiao Lin is here? Come in, come in, the tea is just brewed."

Lin Bei changed his shoes and walked into the living room.

The old man sat on the sofa, a chessboard already set up in front of him. He was wearing a dark gray Tang suit, his hair was neatly combed, and he looked even better than last week.

Shen Wancheng is not here. Shen Qingzhi is not here either.

As the old man poured tea, he said, "Qingzhi is doing her homework upstairs; she'll be down in a bit."

Lin Bei sat down opposite the old man, picked up his teacup, and took a sip. Longjing tea, still the same taste as last week, with a faint aroma of beans.

"Xiao Lin, you've lost weight." The old man looked him up and down. "Your pimples have lessened too. Are you in a relationship?"

Lin Bei almost choked on his tea: "...Grandpa Shen, I was just running."

"Running can get rid of acne?" The old man looked incredulous. "I used to run when I was young, and my face was covered in pimples!"

"That might mean you haven't run far enough."

The old man glared at him, but a smile played on his lips: "You little rascal, you've got a sharp tongue."

He put down the teapot. "Xiao Lin, how did you do on your monthly exam?"

Ninth place.

"Ninth?" The old man's eyes lit up. "You said last time you were last when you entered school?"

"Um."

"Such great progress?" The old man's tone was filled with surprise and admiration. "Then you have to work hard and get into the top five next time. Grandpa will give you a big red envelope."

Lin Bei smiled and said, "Grandpa Shen, no need for a red envelope."

"What do you want?"

"You'll be fine next time if I beat you."

The old man paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Good! That's ambitious!" He patted his thigh. "Come on, let's play a game first, and let me see if you've improved this week."

On the chessboard, sixteen pieces each from the red and black sides are neatly arranged at both ends.

"Grandpa Shen, you go first," Lin Bei said.

The old man didn't stand on ceremony, picked up the cannon, and placed it in the center. The first cannon shot.

Lin Bei jumped off the horse.

The old man's playing style remained the same: steady, controlling the board, and avoiding reckless moves. However, Lin Bei noticed that his opening moves this week were more refined than last week's, with each move leaving room for a counter-move, unlike the style of an amateur player.

"Grandpa Shen, did you practice with anyone this week?" Lin Bei took a step away from the car and asked casually.

The old man chuckled twice: "Your Uncle Shen found a chess teacher to play with me. He's on the provincial team, and he's been playing chess for decades. I played a few games with him, and I lost so much that I didn't want to play anymore."

"So you've even improved?"

"You only improve by losing," the old man said. "If you win, you won't want to learn anymore."

Looking at the old man, Lin Bei suddenly realized that what he said made a lot of sense.

"By the way," the old man said while playing chess, "that provincial team coach is over sixty years old, and he likes to hum Peking Opera tunes while playing chess. He hummed four sections in one game, from 'The Empty City Stratagem' to 'Farewell My Concubine,' until my head ached."

"So you lost because you were distracted?"

"That's right!" Grandpa Shen nodded. "When he hummed 'The Case of Chen Shimei,' I was so engrossed in the opera that I forgot I had a car."

Lin Bei's lips twitched slightly: "..."

The game has entered the middle game.

Lin Bei moved his knight, and the old man stared at the chessboard for a while before picking up his rook and placing it in another position.

Lin Bei's eyes narrowed slightly.

This move isn't like the old man's style. It's too risky; sacrificing a pawn for an attacking position. He wouldn't have made this move in the past.

"Grandpa Shen, did you learn this move from the provincial team coach?"

The old man smiled: "You figured it out? He said I'm too conservative, and that I should fight when it's time to fight."

Lin Bei looked at the chessboard and considered several possible solutions in his mind.

In the past, he might have chosen the safest option: hold the line and wait for the old man to make a mistake. But now, another thought flashed through his mind.

Give it a try.

He picked up the cannon and placed it near the old man's horse's mouth.

The old man looked down at him, then looked up at him.

"Are you giving this to me to eat?"

"Do you dare to eat it?" Lin Bei asked.

The old man stared at the chessboard for several seconds, tapped his fingers on his knee a few times, then picked up the horse and captured the cannon.

Lin Bei's car got off.

The old man's expression changed.

"You little rascal..." He shook his head, "Are you fishing?"

"You said it yourself, you have to fight when it's time to fight." Lin Bei smiled. "You only improve when you lose."

The old man glared at him, but the corners of his mouth were curved.

After walking another dozen or so steps, the old man's disadvantage became increasingly apparent. Finally, he pushed the object over.

"I lost," he said, his tone not one of frustration, but rather of excitement. "You played your move well; I fell for it."

The old man rearranged the chess pieces.

"One more round."

Halfway through the second game, Shen Qingzhi came downstairs.

She was wearing a white sweatshirt and light blue jeans, her hair was down, and she was holding a water glass. When she walked into the living room, she glanced at Lin Bei, nodded slightly, and then sat down next to the old man.