Phew…
Xia Yan pulled off his helmet and exhaled, checking his watch. They still had plenty of time.
It wasn’t even 1 PM yet—ten minutes to spare—and Hua Xin’s house wasn’t far.
As the motorcycle stopped, Hua Xin shivered involuntarily, hands hidden in her sleeves clamped protectively over her sides.
*(We’re here? Don’t take my kidneys 😭)*
*(Why’s it so quiet 😨… Is this even China anymore?)*
Xia Yan parked the bike, then hesitated, hand hovering mid-air.
*Where to pat her…?*
*Better avoid physical contact…*
His arm slowly retracted.
Social anxiety manifests differently in everyone.
Some suffer like chronic pessimists, drowning in self-inflicted misery.
Others mimic "normalcy" like actors—until the stage vanishes, and their psyche shatters.
Clearly, Hua Xin’s isolation ran deeper than Xia Yan’s own middle school bullying trauma.
After a brief pause, he softened his tone toward the girl cocooned in layers of clothing: "Time to get off."
"Our classroom’s on the fourth floor. Most arrive early, so it’s quiet now."
"Being late would ruin everything. You’d have to make up attendance next week."
Hua Xin lifted her head dazedly, peering through her hair.
Trees. Wide roads. Rows of bicycles. Buildings. And…
*(PEOPLE?! 😨)*
Her head snapped around like a glitching robot. An absurdly handsome, sunlit face smiled right at her.
*(Wait—handsome…? Who’s this creep?)*
Competitive fire ignited in Hua Xin’s chest 😡. Her foggy mind sharpened instantly.
*How could anyone be prettier than her?*
One glance was enough to make her look away—the warm, magnetic smile felt painfully blinding…
Like a sewer-dwelling NEET, lurking online to envy others’ happiness, suddenly face-to-face with a golden, eight-pack-abbed, sunshine-rich athlete 😭.
Her fists clenched.
*Right—the class monitor who brought her here.*
Silently, Hua Xin swung her left leg over the bike, right foot bracing on the ground.
*(Class first… class first… 🥺)*
*(Then I can go home. 😇)*
*(Must stay away… His "real-life" glow will kill me. 🥺)*
Xia Yan watched her move, then lifted her backpack.
*Why’s it so heavy…?*
He jostled it lightly—
*Thud.*
Hua Xin lay sprawled on the pavement, one shoe kicked off, a dusty white sock exposed.
Xia Yan rushed over, backpack in hand. "You okay, Hua Xin?" he asked urgently, reaching to help her up.
*(Hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts 😭😭)*
*(I’m dying—I need an ambulance! 🚑)*
She nodded, then flinched away like she’d been shocked, scrambling up to jam her foot back into the oversized shoe.
"Good…" Xia Yan sighed in relief. "Let’s head to class?" He led the way, backpack slung over his shoulder.
But something nagged at him.
Hua Xin was shorter, sure—but were her feet *that* much smaller?
The shoes looked painfully tight. And that sound earlier…? 🤔
Almost… like a girl’s whimper?
He shook off the absurd thought.
*Get real. 😉 Her file photo looked lean and androgynous, but it clearly said "male."*
*We’re even dormmates.*
Outwardly calm, Hua Xin pressed her damp-masked face against the wall. Tears soaked through the fabric—she bit back sobs, desperate to wait until she was home.
*(Silent crying.)*
*(My knees sting.)*
*(Wahhhhhhhhhhh 😭…)*
*Ding.*
The elevator doors slid open. The classroom was just left of the exit.
Xia Yan guided her through the back door.
*(I see nothing. I hear nothing…)*
*(I’m a big banana. Bananas are yummy 😋. Bananas are fun. Bananas feel magical. Everyone else is cabbage. I’m a banana…)*
Hua Xin curled into the back-row corner, hugging her backpack while her mind spiraled into nonsense to escape reality.
*Ding-ding-ding…*
"Ah, class time," announced the white-haired teacher at the podium, adjusting his glasses 🧐.
"Roll call."
"Xia Yan."
"Here."
His calm reply made Hua Xin jump.
*(What’s happening… 😨)*
*(Where am I?)*
"Hua Xin."
Her body locked like she’d been struck by lightning, plastered against the wall.
*(DEATH… DEATH’S CALLING MY NAME 😭)*
*(I’m too young to die! 😭)*
"Here."
Xia Yan pointed to the trembling girl beside him.
The teacher squinted at the corner, then realization dawned. He nodded silently and moved on.
"…Xiang Guan… present! …Mu Feng… here! …Chen Hao… yep!"
"Don’t worry," Xia Yan whispered, leaning toward the backpack-buried girl. "Mr. Wang’s kind. Director Li already briefed him about you."
Seeing her huddled like a terrified stray kitten, he couldn’t help a soft chuckle.
Escaping loneliness and fear… was brutally hard.
Remembering something, Xia Yan pulled out his phone when she didn’t respond.
*Vrrt.*
Hua Xin’s pocket buzzed.
She fumbled out her phone.
**Xia Yan:** *Wanna chat on WeChat instead?*
*Kinda fun this way.*
Hua Xin peeked up. Xia Yan was indeed grinning at her.
His sun-bright smile—like a starship powered by a supernova—made her duck her head instantly.
*(He wants to chat?)*
*(Is he… trying to be friends?)*
*(But why…? 🤔)*
*She was supposed to be a boy right now…*
*(No way 😨)*
*(Did he find out?)*
Still, Hua Xin replied with painfully honest sweetness 😋:
**Hua Xin:** *Okay…*
*He’s right here. If I refuse, I’ll never escape this classroom… and he’ll tie me to a chair to bully me 😭.*
*A class monitor’s power in school… is absolute as a county magistrate’s. 😭*
