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

It was indeed somewhat puzzling, and Liang Muxi couldn't find the right words to explain it.

But when Wen Ying looked at him so intently, Liang Muqi still felt as if something had bumped into his chest. Like a piece of driftwood floating on a lonely sea, making one involuntarily want to reach out and touch it.

Touch—just a touch. Liang Muqi didn't want a hug; that would be too greedy.

Greed creates unnecessary expectations, and expectations are the root of all misfortune.

This is the way of life that Liang Muqi thought he had mastered.

"You put these two drinks together..." Wen Ying suddenly spoke again, looking at his hand with a somewhat subtle gaze, "How can you tell which one is yours and which one is mine?"

Liang Muqi also came to his senses. He was still holding the bag. Wen Ying held the bottom of the cups and lifted them up one by one to look at them. The two cups of water were exactly the same, with similar heights.

"No two leaves in the world are exactly alike, but there are two glasses of water that are exactly the same..." she muttered to herself, "and sure enough, they've become one."

Liang Muxi: "I'll go back and buy another cup."

"Forget it, we've already walked quite a distance." Wen Ying stopped him, casually pulled one of the two glasses from between them, waved it in front of her, and muttered, "This one will do. I remember I made sure my straw avoided the cartoon character's eyes..."

There was only one drink left in my hand, and water droplets slowly seeped out, their cool temperature emanating through the transparent bag, only to be gradually evaporated by my body heat.

Liang Muqi picked up the glass of iced rice wine. Wen Ying walked forward, put her phone back in her pocket, and instead of opening the food delivery app, she looked around at the illuminated signs along the street.

"Shall we make a bet?"

The person in front turned around, and Liang Muqi looked at her, still in the position of bending down to touch the straw, and heard her own voice flutter as she asked, "What?"

"I bet you—it's only eight o'clock now, and look at the roadside, many shops are still open."

Wen Ying pointed to the open shop doors, bustling with people, and continued, "Let's walk forward. If we don't come across a cake shop along the way, I'll just wish you a happy birthday, then I'll go home, and you go back to the hospital. If a cake shop happens to be open..."

She paused, a faint smile appearing on her cheeks, bathed in golden light.

"Then I'll buy you a cake and quietly celebrate your eighteenth birthday. No one will find out."

Liang Muqi had walked this road countless times. Beverage shops, stationery stores, electric vehicle repair shops, convenience stores—they all passed by him. He knew every address, every image and font on the billboards by heart.

So he knew that there wasn't a single unnoticed corner on this road where a bakery with warm lights stood.

Wen Ying had obviously noticed that the journey that should have taken ten minutes had taken them more than twenty minutes, and she had to turn into every alleyway that might be hiding a secret to take a look.

Liang Muqi stayed behind her the whole time. He didn't really have any expectations, but when she cautiously peeked into the alley, he would take a few steps forward and walk from behind her to her side.

Because those alleyways looked excessively dark.

But why would there really be a cake shop hidden in such a dark alley, without even an advertising sign and lit by very ordinary incandescent lights?

This seems incredibly lucky; the level of good fortune suddenly reached its maximum, exceeding the limit.

So Liang Muqi couldn't help but wonder, when will it be overdrawn?

This was clearly not a good idea, and it would be too disappointing to say it aloud, so Liang Muqi silently followed Wen Ying into the cake shop without saying a word.

Wen Ying was unaware of the complex thoughts in his heart. She went in and, under the bright light, examined the cake samples displayed in the glass cabinet, carefully and attentively selecting them.

Making a cake from scratch takes a lot of time, and those little triangles displayed in the counter are too simple; they don't look like they can fit birthday candles in them at all.

Wen Ying stood in front of them, hesitant and undecided.

The owner, who was watching nearby, brought up a cake in the refrigerator that someone had ordered but hadn't picked up. It was a cake that a boy had given to his girlfriend, and it had a beautiful cartoon figure on it—a little girl.

Wen Ying asked, "Could you redraw the little girl to look like a little boy?"

The boss replied, "It's a bit complicated to make changes."

He glanced at Liang Muxi, who was standing next to Wen Ying, thought for a moment, and then said, "But there is still space next to us, so I can draw a mini version of the little person there."

Wen Ying nodded, but she still made a small request, asking the shop owner to add some decorations to the original little girl to show that it was Wen Ying painted there, and not some other person who did not know Liang Muxi.

The boss asked, "What do you want to draw?"

“A guitar, an orange-yellow acoustic guitar,” Wen Ying said to him. “It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t look quite like one.”

The boss pursed his lips and picked up the cake: "Don't underestimate my artistic skills."

A few minutes later, the boss came out with the reworked cake. Wen Ying realized that he hadn't been exaggerating; every stroke of his drawing was beautiful, especially the guitar.

Although Liang Muqi hadn't said much since they came in, Wen Ying had a premonition that the scene to come would become very emotional, so they didn't sit in the shop.

Instead, they borrowed a stool from the boss and had Liang Muqi move it to the doorway.

The owner said there was another folding table in the shop, which was only used occasionally when eating. He asked Liang Muxi to bring it out as well, and told them, "Remember to wipe it clean with tissues before returning it after your birthday."

Wen Ying nodded and agreed. Because she needed it urgently, the cake wasn't wrapped and was already on the table.

She took two small plates and placed them in front of herself and Liang Muxi respectively, and handed them over the cake-cutting knife as well.

Liang Muqi didn't immediately reach out to take it, and looked at her with some hesitation, saying, "I can't cut it properly."

“But food doesn’t need to be cut beautifully.” Wen Ying pried open his fingers and stuffed the knife inside.

She continued unpacking the candles, and when she looked up, she saw Liang Muxi already gesturing with a plastic knife over the cake, so she quickly reached out and stopped him.

"Wait a minute, we're missing the step of blowing out the candles and making a wish."

Liang Muqi silently withdrew his hand. Wen Ying glanced at him again, confirming that he had truly never celebrated his birthday before.

They may never have attended anyone else's birthday party.

The shopkeeper didn't give them lighters, so Wen Ying held matches in her hand. She gently struck the edge of the cardboard box, and the orange flame flickered and ignited.

As Liang Muxi watched, she suddenly remembered a fairy tale she had read many years ago: the little match girl lit a candle, and then a dazzling array of goods and food appeared in front of her in the shop window. In the end, she saw her grandmother and died sweetly in illusion and cold.

But it wasn't winter now. The flames burned in the still summer wind. Liang Muqi didn't hallucinate. Wen Ying reached out and used that beam of light to illuminate the eighteen-year-old figure on the cake.

After lighting the candles, Wen Ying sang "Happy Birthday" while nudging Liang Muqi so he could make a wish.

She watched him close his eyes, his eyelashes trembling slightly, as if he were nervous because he had never done such a thing before.

A few seconds later, Liang Muqi opened his eyes. Wen Ying said, "You can blow out the candle now." He leaned forward somewhat awkwardly and blew a breath into the burning candle, but it didn't go out. He only succeeded on the second try.

Wen Ying asked, "How many wishes did you make?"

Liang Muqi answered with one.

She rested her chin on her hand and looked at him: "Actually, you can make three birthday wishes."

Liang Muqi had never heard of such a saying before, and asked hesitantly, "Wouldn't three wishes be too greedy?"

"I don't know, but I always make three wishes." Wen Ying smiled. "And I never remember what I wished for, probably because they all came true."

Liang Muqi stared at her intently, feeling as if such a person had never existed in his world before. She was always radiant, optimistic, and cheerful, as if even if her wish was to pluck stars from the sky, the stars would fall for her.

The plastic knife was handed to Liang Muqi again. Just before he was about to bring the knife down, Wen Ying suddenly spoke up: "Wait a minute!"

She took out her phone, switched to camera mode, and sighed as she focused the lens, "Oh dear, I should have started recording from the moment the candle was lit, but I forgot."

Liang Muqi squeezed the hilt of the knife in his hand, his fingerprints making a very soft scratching sound on it, and said softly to himself, "It's okay, I've already memorized it."

“But we still have to take a picture, after all, the cake is decorated so beautifully, and…” Wen Ying said, turning her phone camera around and switching from pointing it at the cake to taking a selfie.

She suddenly became very quiet, "And the two people in the picture are also very good-looking—hey, Liang Muqi, hurry up and stop standing there, pick up the cake."

Liang Muqi put down what she was doing and did as Wen Ying instructed, placing the cake at the right angle. However, Wen Ying kept adjusting it and hesitated to press the shutter.

After several minutes, she seemed to have finally reached her limit and turned to look at him, saying, "Liang Muxi, I told you to look at the camera, why are you always looking at me?"

Liang Muqi was also taken aback: "Am I looking at you?"

The rhetorical question seemed to be full of silly bubbles. Wen Ying looked at him reproachfully. Someone passed by on the road behind her. She didn't know if she was startled by the person who suddenly passed by the camera or what, but her finger suddenly touched the shutter button.

And so, with a click, their first group photo in the world was born.

In the shot, the cake, decorated with the owner's fancy painting skills, takes up most of the frame. A wooden guitar is in the hands of a little girl, and a smaller little boy is beside her, raising his hand to offer her a pure white pearl.

In the upper left corner of the image, Liang Muqi turns his head to look at Wen Ying, and Wen Ying happens to turn her head to the side as well.

Neither of them looked at the camera; instead, they looked at each other.