Quick Transmigration: Let Me Tell You, I'm a Social Anxiety Person

Liang Muxi got out of the car and realized that she hadn't taken a taxi in a long time. The driver had taken her to the wrong gate. The lawn was on the west side, while the east side was a gravel and pebbles. To get across, she would have to cross a bridge.

The barbecue restaurant was busy as usual tonight. He took the day off, but just before leaving, he encountered some people causing trouble while drunk.

Two people who claimed to be drunk and out of their minds did not cause trouble for the adults at the next table, but instead went to the roadside to harass girls passing by. Liang Muxi stepped out of the door and went over to help without much thought. The owner also put down his skewers and followed.

But whether the two men were prepared or not, they actually pulled out a folding knife from their pockets, ripped the old man's shirt, and almost cut his kidney.

The other party seemed emboldened by alcohol and tried to swing the knife a second time, but Liang Muqi reacted quickly and grabbed his wrist bone, though the blade still grazed his palm.

Liang Muqi only realized he had a hand injury when someone handed him a tissue after he came out of the police station. He moved his fingers, and his palm throbbed with pain as blood slowly seeped out.

Fortunately, it wasn't too deep. He took the tissue, asked the time, and learned that it would be 11 o'clock in a quarter of an hour.

"Missed it" was the first word that came to mind, but when he reached the roadside and a taxi drove by, he still subconsciously raised his hand to flag it down.

At 11:03, all the lights on the bridge in Moon Bay Park were turned off, and the wooden bridge meandered over the lake like a silent beast lurking in the night.

Liang Muqi walked quickly. The wooden bridge was winding, and he eventually ran across it. The muffled "thump-thump" sound became the only sound in the utter silence.

He had already assumed in his mind that there would be no one at the end of the bridge, but when he stopped in front of the empty lawn, he still couldn't help but pause for a moment. Sweat dripped down, and the heart that had been surging in his chest from running slowly sank back down.

At 11:09, he finally stood here. The lawn had been tidied up, with no streamers or fireworks left behind, only the grass blades, glistening with dew, drooping slightly, marks of being weighed down by heavy objects.

The bustling crowds had long since dispersed, and the night had returned to its desolate state. There was no reflection of the moon on the water at Moon Bay Park.

"Maybe I made a mistake again." Liang Muxi didn't know why he thought this way. Pushing back to the distant past, it seemed that he had thought this more than once.

Being picky about food is a mistake. Because he didn't eat properly, he was always sick as a child, which made Liang Yun very worried and led her to discipline him even more strictly.

Being a loner is another kind of mistake. He erased the arrogant and impassioned words on the blackboard, which were meant to intimidate the new teacher, and quit the tutoring class. He lost his friends.

At first, he would only ask himself, "Did I do something wrong?" He would occasionally say it aloud, but he never got an answer. Later, that question slowly turned into a statement.

Tonight was another mistake. If he hadn't turned back after turning around, he wouldn't have gotten involved in the incident and ended up at the police station with his boss. If he had bought a phone beforehand, or asked for her number yesterday morning, he wouldn't have been staring blankly at the numbers on the keypad after borrowing a phone from the taxi driver.

In this age of advanced communication, he was unable to contact the people he wanted to reach, or even send his apologies and explanations on time.

Liang Muxi stood there for a while, then decided to leave. Returning the way he came would require crossing that bridge, but at that moment he suddenly didn't want to leave, so he turned and walked in another direction.

However, after taking only a few steps, a voice came from behind, a familiar voice, a voice that had sung many songs, sounding somewhat hoarse in the silent air.

"Liang Muxi".

He turned around, and Wen Ying stood up from under the magnolia tree, carrying that familiar guitar.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time."

Liang Muqi looked at her, about to say "I'm sorry," but she interrupted her.

“I was sitting right there…” Wen Ying pointed to the magnolia tree, “waiting to see when you would notice me, but after waiting for a long time, you still didn’t turn around.”

Her voice carried a hint of amusement: "Do you think you have vision problems? I'm even wearing a light stick."

Liang Muqi stared blankly as Wen Ying walked toward him, one step, two steps, so close.

She stood in front of him and slipped something into his arms. He looked down and saw that it was a light board with a bird logo on it.

It was dazzling with its colorful lights.

How could he not have seen it?

"Where's the bracelet I gave you? Why aren't you wearing it?" Wen Ying's voice rang out again, staring at him with some dissatisfaction. "You didn't lose it, did you, Liang Muqi?"

“I didn’t lose it,” Liang Muqi said softly.

He took the bracelet out of his pocket, put it on, and rolled the bird pattern inside, close to his pulse.

Wen Ying sat cross-legged on the lawn, and Liang Muqi also sat down, picked up the light board, and placed it on his lap.

"The lead singer is in a good mood tonight and will allow song requests," Wen Ying said. "What would you like to hear?"

Liang Muqi recalled the song that played a month ago when the rain had just stopped and the sun was shining.

He recalled the lyrics: "Like the wind blowing in the wilderness, is there such a song?"

"This is easy," Wen Ying snapped her fingers.

She played the guitar almost without interruption, humming the first part, and then gradually began to sing in a soft, murmuring tone.

This is somewhat different from what I heard last time.

That day, she held a microphone on a well-sounded stage, and her singing, accompanied by her friends, floated across the city sky and parted the clouds.

Then, the first rays of sunlight shone into Liang Muqi's eyes. He hadn't seen such intense light in a long time, and his pupils involuntarily contracted as he tried to remember the moment. But before he could capture it, the sound gradually faded away.

And this time, light also appeared.

The narrow light sign flickered on their knees, illuminating the small space between them. Liang Muqi held onto the frame, the edges of his fingers also blurred by the light.

After Wen Ying finished singing the whole song, she looked up and gestured for him to continue requesting songs.

However, Liang Muxi had listened to far too little music and couldn't think of any songs that would be more suitable for the current atmosphere, so he could only shake his head and leave the choice entirely to the lead singer.

Wen Ying smiled and said, "Then I can do whatever I want."

She said it, and she did it. Several songs were mixed together. She would play the melody of one song, sing halfway through, and then switch to the second half of another song. Sometimes she would pluck the strings a few times, then suddenly put the accompaniment aside and just hum the song without playing the guitar.

"Even if I sing it wrong, you wouldn't be able to tell, would you?" she joked, then asked Liang Muqi, "Do you still have that pick with you?"

This was just a casual question; her fingers were a little tired, and she wanted to try plucking the strings in a different way.

It doesn't matter whether she brings a pick or not; she can play softer and slower.

But Liang Muqi said, "I brought it." He touched his pocket and took out the pick.

Wen Ying looked at him in surprise. Liang Muqi didn't say anything, but quietly looked at her for a few seconds before looking away.

Wen Ying lowered her head, the pick gliding across the strings: "This song doesn't have lyrics. It's a melody that suddenly popped into my head while I was waiting for you. I've temporarily named it 'Waiting'."

The melody then began, the fingers falling heavily but the sound was very soft, like the evening breeze brushing the treetops, the leaves rustling.

Do those who break their promises deserve to be waited for?

Can someone who doesn't love themselves receive love?

Liang Muxi didn't know. That melody was still playing continuously, so distant, yet so clear.

He heard it, the heartbeat of the guitar.

-

Back home, Wen Ying took a shower and collapsed onto the bed, spacing out for a while.

On the way back in a taxi with Liang Muxi, Liang Muxi didn't say a word, only turning her head to stare at the car window beside her.

Wen Ying felt strange and looked out the car window. It was pitch black outside, and there was nothing to see.

I don't know what Liang Muxi is looking at.

As she was about to get off the bus, she remembered that the guitar pick was still in her pocket. Recalling how Liang Muqi always carried the pick with him wherever he went, and seemed to care about it a lot, Wen Ying reached out and returned it to him.

Liang Muqi then turned her gaze away and said, "Thank you."

He reached for the pick, and a red mark on his palm inadvertently caught Wen Ying's eye. Wen Ying instinctively reached out and pressed down on the back of his hand, asking, "What is this?"

Looking into the car's interior light, she saw clearly and asked in surprise, "You're injured?"

Liang Muqi removed her hand. "It's nothing."

Wen Ying continued to ask when and how she was injured. The scar was so clear that even the bloodstains were visible, and it was obvious that it hadn't been disinfected.

Liang Muxi didn't answer any of them, only repeating "It's nothing," as if she didn't want to discuss it further.

Wen Ying couldn't help but feel somewhat discouraged.

She couldn't quite understand what he was thinking. When they met at Moon Bay, his expression was one of undisguised surprise, and he listened attentively as she sang on the grass. But when the singing stopped on the way home, he didn't say a word.

He just stared at that broken window, I don't know what he was looking at.

but……

Wen Ying rolled herself up in the blanket and turned over.

It wasn't because of that that she was angry. Liang Muxi had been very silent the whole time, and she could sense that from both their first meeting and from the words her grandfather had spoken upstairs.

She just felt that even though they were already very familiar with each other, tonight's wait only brought them even closer.

Why is Liang Muxi still so preoccupied, yet unwilling to lighten his burden and let his friends share some of it?

"I don't want to think about it anymore." Wen Ying scrolled up, grabbed her phone from the bedside table, and prepared to play with it for a while before going to sleep.

For some reason, a lot of messages appeared in the class group. Wen Ying thought it was because the high school students had a phobia of going back to school, so she clicked on it casually, only to find that they were talking about paranormal topics in the middle of the night.

She scrolled through the videos and saw a video with the words "Luocheng No. 1 Middle School Haunted" enlarged in red on the cover. Below the video, a group of people were screaming and saying, "It's too scary," and "I dare not watch it."

[Has anyone seen this...? The security camera in the hallway is really clear, but I feel like that face looks familiar.]

[This is a senior from last year's graduating class! She committed suicide by jumping into the reservoir.]

[Huh? Really... Then why did she do that?]

[He must have failed the college entrance exam, otherwise why would he become a vengeful spirit and come to the school?]

Why do you have to say this in the middle of the night? It's scary...

[This is really scary, and didn't anyone notice? The camera angle in this video is flipped, meaning she was originally walking upside down on the wall!]