Phew...

Xia Yan took off his helmet and let out a relieved breath, glancing at his wristwatch. They still had plenty of time.  
It wasn’t even 1 p.m. yet—ten minutes to go—and luckily, Hua Xin’s home wasn’t far from campus.

As the motorcycle came to a stop, Hua Xin couldn’t help but shiver involuntarily. Her hands, hidden deep inside her sleeves, instinctively clutched protectively at her kidneys.  

(We’re here already?! Please don’t take my kidneys! 😭)  
(Why is it so quiet…? 😨 Is this even China anymore?)

Xia Yan parked the bike neatly, then gently raised a hand toward Hua Xin—  
Hmm… where should I tap? 🤔  
…Better avoid physical contact altogether.  

His outstretched hand hovered midair for a moment before slowly retreating.  

Everyone’s social anxiety manifests differently.  

Some suffer like they’ve got “corn syndrome”—pessimistic about the world, drowning in personal anguish.  
Others appear perfectly normal in daily life, but they’re merely performing a role. Remove them from that role’s context, and their psyche might collapse into extremes.  

Clearly, Hua Xin’s condition was far more severe than the isolation and bullying Xia Yan himself had endured back in middle school.  

After a brief pause, Xia Yan looked at the girl tightly cocooned in layers of oversized clothing and softened his tone:  
“Time to get off.”  
“Our classroom’s on the fourth floor. Most students arrive early, so it’s quiet right now.”  
“If you’re late, all this effort’s wasted—you’ll have to make up attendance next week.”

Hearing this, Hua Xin hesitantly lifted her head, peering through the gaps in her hair to take in her surroundings:  
Trees. A wide avenue. Rows of bicycles. Buildings. And—  

(PEOPLE PEOPLE PEOPLE PEOPLE PEOPLE?! 😨)

Like a malfunctioning robot 🤖 with a seized neck joint, she slowly turned her head—and suddenly found herself staring into an unfairly handsome, sunlit face smiling gently right at her.  

(Wait… handsome…? Perverted guy—who even are you?!)  

A fierce wave of competitive masculine pride surged within Hua Xin. 😡  
Her previously foggy mind snapped into sudden, crystal clarity.  

How dare someone be even more handsome than she is?!  

Though she only glanced for a split second before quickly looking away, that warm, magnetic smile felt painfully blinding—  

Like a sewer-dwelling NEET mouse who only dares to “flex” anonymously online suddenly stumbling upon a real-life Peng Yu-Yan: eight-pack abs, wealthy, radiant, athletic, and oozing charisma. 😭  

Her fists clenched.  

Then she remembered—this was the class monitor who’d just brought her to school.  

Silently, Hua Xin lifted her left leg over the bike, planted her right foot on the ground—  

(Focus on class first… class first… 🥺)  
(Then I can go home. 😇)  
(I need to stay far away… the glow of a “real充” like him might actually kill me. 🥺)

Watching her move, Xia Yan picked up her backpack.  
Huh… why’s it so heavy?  

He gave it a light bounce—and immediately heard a faint, muffled whimper.  

Thud.  

Hua Xin, who should’ve been standing firm, was now sprawled flat on the ground. One of her shoes had slipped off, revealing a small white sock now dusted with dirt.  

Xia Yan rushed over with the backpack and gently helped her up, concern in his voice:  
“Are you okay, Hua Xin?”  

(It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts! 😭😭)  
(I’m dying—I’m literally dying! 😭 Where’s the ambulance?! 🚑)  

She gave a tiny nod, then recoiled like she’d been electrocuted, scrambling backward out of his touch. In one swift motion, she shoved her foot back into the oversized shoe and stood stiffly to the side.  

“Good… Then let’s go to class?”  

Relieved, Xia Yan led the way, holding her backpack—but his sharp senses couldn’t shake the odd feeling from earlier.  

Sure, Hua Xin was shorter than him… but were her feet that much smaller?  
And those shoes looked comically ill-fitting. Plus…  
What was that sound just now? 🤔  
Sounded almost… like a girl’s voice?  

He immediately dismissed the thought with a mental eye-roll.  
What am I imagining? 😉  
He’d seen Hua Xin’s official file—though the photo looked slender and somewhat androgynous, the gender marker clearly said male.  
They’d even been assigned as roommates.  

Outwardly, Hua Xin remained silent and composed.  
But inside, her tears had already soaked through her mask. Pain-sensitive as she was, she could barely suppress the urge to burst into loud sobs. 🥺  
But not here… I’ll cry when I get home.  

(Silent tears falling.)  
(My knee hurts so bad.)  
(Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh 😭……)

Ding.  

The elevator doors slid open. The classroom was just around the corner—first door on the left.  

Xia Yan considerately guided her in through the back entrance.  

(I see nothing. I hear nothing…)  
(I’m just a big banana… bananas are yummy 😋… bananas are fun… the banana feeling is so magical… everyone else is just cabbage—I’m the banana…)  

Hua Xin curled into the farthest back corner, hugging her backpack tightly, escaping reality through chaotic inner monologue. (Poor thing.)  

Ding-ding-ding…  

“Ah, class time already?”  

An old man with white hair stood up from the podium, adjusting his glasses. 🧐  
“Let’s take attendance.”  

“Xia Yan.”  
“Here.”  

Xia Yan, seated right beside Hua Xin, raised his hand.  

But even his calm, gentle voice startled her.  

(What’s happening…? 😨)  
(What are we doing right now?)  

“Hua Xin.”  

At the sound of her name, Hua Xin flinched as if struck by lightning, pressing herself even harder against the wall.  

(Is… is the King Yama calling my name?! 😭)  
(I’m too young to die! 😭)  

“Here.”  

Xia Yan pointed to the trembling girl beside him.  

The white-haired teacher squinted at the corner, then—after a moment of confusion—suddenly seemed to recall something. His eyes lit up with understanding, and he moved on without further comment.  

“…Xiang Guan… here! …Mu Feng… present! …Chen Hao… over here!”  

“Don’t worry,” Xia Yan whispered, leaning toward the girl who’d now buried herself completely under her backpack. “Professor Wang’s really kind. And Instructor Li already told him about your situation—you’re safe.”  

Seeing her huddled like a terrified little animal, he couldn’t help but smile softly.  

It’s incredibly hard—so hard—to step out of a world built on isolation and self-fear.  

Suddenly remembering something, and seeing that Hua Xin still hadn’t responded, Xia Yan pulled out his phone and sent a quick message.  

Vrrrrt.  

Hua Xin felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.  

Huh?  

She stopped her mental spiraling and fished out her phone.  

Xia Yan: “Wanna chat on WeChat instead?”  
“Kinda fun this way.”  

Hesitantly, she peeked up—and sure enough, there was Xia Yan, grinning right at her.  

That smile was like a miniature sun 🌞 erupting from a black hole’s event horizon—so blindingly radiant it felt like a warp-drive core exploding in her face. She immediately ducked her head again.  

(He wants to chat with me?)  
(Does he… want to be friends?)  
(But why…? 🤔)  

She was still officially registered as a boy, after all…  

(Wait… 😨)  
(Did he find out my secret?!)  

Yet despite her panic, Hua Xin—ever honest and adorably naive 😋—replied truthfully:  

Hua Xin: “Okay…”  

He’s right in front of me…  
If I say no, will he trap me in this classroom and tie me to a chair for some brutal 80-ing?! 😭  

After all…  
In class, the monitor is basically a tall, unyielding county magistrate! 😭