Near Qingchuan University stretched a bustling commercial street packed with young crowds—young men glowing with sunshine charm, girls dressed to impress. Every step offered a visual treat.

An Zhi walked with her head down, a tiny, unassuming figure. Unlike the stylish girls flaunting youthful confidence, she wore a pink wool blouse, black trousers, and had hastily tied her messy hair into a bun. No makeup. Too lazy to swap contacts, she kept her old heavy black-rimmed glasses from high school.

She hated crowds. Walking alone on this noisy street made her feel like ants were crawling all over her skin. She kept sensing eyes on her.

*Good grief… so many people.* An Zhi already regretted it. Previous trips were with roommates; this was her first solo outing. But… that viral dessert shop’s fruit tarts were *so* good—especially the fruit tarts.

She’d craved them for days. Compared to delicious food, social anxiety didn’t stand a chance.

Weekend crowds jammed the shop entrance. Seeing the packed doorway, her courage wavered again.

Confused by the sudden crowd, she edged closer. A faint mic voice drifted through—but drowned out by chatter.

She tried stepping back… then *sniff sniff*—a sweet, creamy aroma hit her nose. Her already growling stomach roared louder.

Sure, she could eat something else. But for a foodie, nothing hurt more than seeing tasty food just out of reach.

*An Zhi… you’ve already lost so much at “being social.” Now the tarts are right here—are you really giving up? What about your principles?*

“Fortune favors the bold!” She gritted her teeth, covered her head, and dove into the crowd. Using her small frame, she squeezed forward bit by bit—then spotted a sliver of light between silhouettes.

A happy smile bloomed. She pushed her short legs hard—

—and a sudden shove from behind sent her tumbling out.

Stumbling forward, she steadied herself with a relieved sigh. The mic voice snapped into crystal clarity:

“Today’s prizes: third place gets three 50% discount coupons, second place… and first place… our limited-edition three-tier ‘Sweet Story’ fruit cake!”

*Fruit? Fruit tarts?*

Her ears perked up. *Right! I came for the fruit tarts! I made it!*

She puffed out her chest proudly—ready to shout her order—when a mic thrust into her face.

“Alright! This enthusiastic lucky audience member practically burst from the crowd! A little *too* eager… but cute is justice! Boosts ratings too. Third pair—locked in!”

The host dragged her onstage mid-chatter.

“Huh? Where am I?”

An Zhi stood frozen, staring at the sea of unfamiliar faces. Mind blank.

“Hmm? Guest, where’s your partner?”

“What partner? I’m here for fruit tarts.”

“Fruit tarts? *Haha!* So humorous! But don’t worry—if you win first prize, you can swap it for desserts. So… where’s your boyfriend?”

The host grinned, teeth gleaming. His confident eyes met her wide, startled ones behind thick glasses. An awkward silence fell.

Her brain crashed. Overwhelmed, she stood frozen like a startled hamster in stress mode, arms crossed protectively. Her single-threaded mind answered automatically, voice soft and timid: “I don’t have a boyfriend. I came alone.”

The crowd laughed warmly. An Zhi forced a smile to keep the vibe—but to them, she looked perfectly confident.

“Wow! Our brave guest isn’t just joining—she’s *choosing* a boyfriend live! Any volunteers?”

“I…”

“ME!!!”

Young voices erupted. Opportunity knocks once—why hesitate?

An Zhi watched blankly, mind swirling. *Like those drama scenes… tossing the embroidered ball to pick a husband…* Slowly, it clicked.

*Contest? Boyfriend? Fruit cake?*

“Um… I should go. Sorry, I think I’m in the wrong place.”

“Is our lovely guest personally selecting her partner? Let’s watch!” The host missed her mosquito-soft protest entirely.

“No, I—"

Shame spiked. Heat flooded her face, crimson creeping to her ears. Tears welled—her go-to reaction. *If I cry here… and it goes viral… I’m done.*

She blinked hard, swallowing tears. “My boyfriend’s coming soon… no need to pick.”

“Soon?”

“Y-yes… soon,” she sniffled, voice trembling.

“Head backstage to rest while I warm up the crowd. Show starts soon.”

An Zhi nodded gratefully—the first sensible words all day.

*Heart hammering. An Zhi… you barely know any guys. Why did you open your mouth?! Disaster.*

She walked offstage with a miserable pout. Behind the partition, two couples cheered each other—sweet, cozy. And her? An intruder.

She scrolled her phone. Class group added, but no guy she knew well. Short friends list. Only *one* name fit.

*Hope I’m not bothering him… If I sneak off… will they catch me? Hit me?* Palms slick with sweat.

“Be your boyfriend?” The boy’s voice crackled, stunned. He repeated it.

“Mhm! I *urgently* need one!” An Zhi nodded fast, oblivious to the wording. Her soft, pleading tone melted hearts. “I’ll… treat you to fruit tarts. Okay?”

A pause. Click. “Send the address. I’m coming.”

“Yes! Hurry!”

She hung up, relief flooding her. *Heehee… I have a boyfriend now.*

She smiled through teary eyes—then froze.

*Wait… did I just ask him to BE my boyfriend?*

*And he said YES?!*

*Oh no… I misspoke again.*