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

It was already 9:30 p.m. when I returned from the Shen family.

Lin Bei quickly finished his homework, did dozens of push-ups, and took a shower. By the time he finished all of this, it was almost 11:30.

Although the conversation with Shen Wancheng was short, it took him two and a half hours from leaving home to returning.

He sat down at his desk and suddenly remembered... he hadn't written a single word for today's chapter.

The thought of stopping updating? It flashed through his mind for half a second before he dismissed it.

Lin Bei sighed, sat down, and typed the first line on the screen to begin writing the latest chapter.

I sat there until 2 a.m.

Lin Bei put down his phone, tilted his head back, and heard a soft "click" on the back of his neck. He rubbed his sore eyes, stared at the ceiling, and suddenly realized that being an online novelist is truly not easy.

This kind of persistence requires even more willpower than running five kilometers every day.

I need to go to sleep now, I have to get up at six to go for a run.

If you die suddenly due to lack of sleep, you may not be able to be reborn.

Lin Bei turned off the light and lay down on the bed.

He closed his eyes, but instead of automatically recalling the day's events, his mind didn't. It wasn't that his memory palace was malfunctioning; he was simply too exhausted. So exhausted that he didn't even have the strength to remember. His consciousness was like a stone thrown into a pool, sinking deeper and deeper, until it stopped at some unknown depth.

He had a dream.

In his dream, he was Lin Bei, now thirty years old, sitting at his desk in his rented room, staring blankly at the computer screen. The Excel spreadsheet was filled with dense numbers. The client sent him a 60-second voice message on WeChat, but he didn't click on any of them. The cursor blinked in the input box, like a silent urging.

He didn't want to change the plan anymore.

He placed his hands on the keyboard and typed: "I'm not changing this plan."

Then he froze.

He had wanted to say this countless times in his previous life, but he never uttered it. Every time, it was "Okay, I'll change it right away," every time it was "No problem, please tell me what's wrong," every time he swallowed his grievances and put on a smiling face.

In his dream, he pressed the send button, then closed his computer, stood up, and pushed open the door to his rented room.

Outside the door, there was only white light; nothing could be seen.

He went inside.

"Ring ring—ring ring—"

The alarm clock rang.

Lin Bei slapped it, and the alarm clock screeched to a halt.

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for two seconds. In those two seconds, fragments of the dream were still swirling in his mind... the computer, Excel, the client's voice message, the line of text that had finally been sent. Then, like morning mist illuminated by the sunlight, they thinned, shattered, and finally disappeared.

Six o'clock sharp.

Lin Bei threw off the covers and sat up as the system's voice sounded.

[Good morning, host. Your deep sleep rate last night was normal, which means you didn't stay up late looking at Su Wantang's photos.]

Lin Bei: "..."

[The system detected that the host did not respond. It seems they were truly exhausted last night.]

Lin Bei ignored the system, put on his sportswear, went out, and ran six kilometers.

Around seven o'clock, he stood at the door of 502 and knocked.

The door opened quickly.

Su Wantang stood behind the door, wearing a white loungewear set, her hair tied in a low ponytail. She looked radiant today, with a faint pink tinge on her lips.

"morning."

"morning."

Lin Bei changed his shoes, walked into the living room, and sat down at the dining table.

He picked up the bowl of porridge and took a sip.

The porridge was pumpkin porridge. The pumpkin was cooked until very soft, almost melting into the porridge. It was golden in color and sweet.

"It's delicious," he said.

Su Wantang sat down opposite him, picked up her bowl of porridge, and took a sip.

"Lin Bei".

"Um."

"Didn't you sleep well last night?"

Lin Bei paused, his chopsticks still for a moment: "How did you know?"

"There's a little bloodshot in your eyes." Su Wantang looked up at him, her voice soft, "Although it's not very noticeable."

Lin Bei was taken aback.

Should I tell her about writing the novel?

No way. He wrote his own story with her, and although he changed a lot, the shadow of that female protagonist still lingers... What will she think after reading it?

Let's not tell her yet.

"I was working on something last night and went to bed late," he said.

"Try to stay up less late in the future," Su Wantang said.

Lin Bei paused for a moment, then nodded: "Understood."

He lowered his head and took a sip of the pumpkin porridge; it was very sweet.

Lin Bei entered the classroom and sat down in the last row by the window. Just as he put his bag down, Zhou Ziheng, who was in front of him, turned around.

"Brother Bei, you only updated the latest chapter at 2 AM last night. My dad said this morning he thought you were going to stop updating!"

Before Lin Bei could speak, Zhou Ziheng added, "He also said that if you stop updating, he'll print out your books to use as table legs. He said that last time, and I reminded him. He said, 'Then I'll use them twice.'"

Lin Bei: "..."

"I'll keep updating as long as I can. Something did take up a bit of time last night," Lin Bei said.

Zhou Ziheng lowered his voice, "Did you go on a date with Su Wantang?"

Lin Bei glared at him. "No."

"Oh—" Zhou Ziheng drawled, pushed up his glasses, but didn't ask any further questions and turned back.

Lin Bei noticed that after he turned back, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, as if he was secretly laughing.

Life went on as usual, and two more days passed.

On Friday afternoon, the last period was a class meeting.

When Lao Gu walked into the classroom as the bell rang, he wasn't carrying lesson plans, only a thermos and a blue folder. He placed the thermos on the podium, unscrewed the cap, took a sip of water, and glanced around the classroom.

Tell me something.

The classroom fell silent. All eyes were fixed on the teacher's podium.

"The school will hold its autumn sports meet in mid-November." Old Gu opened his folder, pulled out a piece of paper, and said, "There's about a month to go. The events include sprints, long-distance running, long jump, shot put, and relays. The specific registration forms are with the class monitors. If you want to participate, go to Li Xiang to register."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Mingyuan stood up from his seat, his dark face beaming with excitement. "The sports meet is finally here! 100 meters, 200 meters, 400 meters, relays—I'm signing up for them all!"

"Are you trying to buy out all the projects?" someone shouted with a laugh from ahead.

"I'll take on any challenge that can earn me points!"

Li Xiang stood up with the registration form in hand, pushed up his glasses, and said calmly, "Okay, I'll write down everything you said."

The classroom erupted in laughter.

Wang Jun raised his hand from behind: "Teacher, count me in for shot put! With my physique, it would be a waste if I didn't try!"

Old Gu glanced at him: "Are you sure you're going to throw the shot put, and not be the shot put yourself?"

The whole class burst into laughter. Wang Jun clutched his chest and made a face as if he had been stabbed.

"Alright, those who want to sign up, go find Li Xiang." Old Gu waved his hand, his expression becoming serious. "The sports meet is a matter for the whole class, not just a few people. Everyone should participate. Those who can run should run, those who can jump should jump, and those who really can't should be volunteers or cheerleaders."