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

It was exceptionally difficult to hail a taxi tonight. Wen Ying stood there for a while, holding an umbrella, and her trouser legs were completely soaked by the time she had been waiting.

She got into the car, and before she could even wipe herself clean, she called Liang Muxi, but no one answered.

After repeating it twice, she switched to her messaging app and sent a text message telling him that she was on her way to the hospital.

The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror: "Going to the hospital so late, is something urgent?"

"Mmm." Wen Ying brushed the hair that was stuck to her cheek and responded, "My family is sick."

The driver glanced at her again and handed her a tissue: "You'll be fine, medical technology is so advanced now."

Wen thanked him with the tissue, wiped her cheeks haphazardly, and then held the phone in her hand, repeatedly picking it up to check the time and see if any messages had suddenly come in. But as time ticked by, nothing appeared on the screen.

The hospital was finally reached. The inpatient department's dim red lights were on in the rain. Wen Ying jumped out of the car and ran into the lobby. The elevator doors were empty in the middle of the night, and she was all alone.

She pressed the floor button, and the numbers rose rapidly. She remembered the room number, 1607. Stepping out of the elevator, she walked in the direction she remembered and gently knocked on the door. A weary middle-aged man came to open the door.

"Who are you looking for?" As if suddenly awakened from a dream, he frowned and looked me up and down.

A dim light shone inside the room. Wen Ying stood in front of the door and looked inside. The person lying on the bed was still not clearly visible. "Excuse me, is Liang Muqi here?"

"I don't know him." The man slammed the door shut.

Ignoring her embarrassment, Wen Ying turned around and went to find the nurse to inquire about the whereabouts of the people who originally lived in 1607.

"Ms. Liang from apartment 1607... underwent surgery the night before last..."

Leaving the nurses' station, I passed by the ward again and heard low voices coming from inside. The voices were unfamiliar, and there was no need to verify them anymore.

She entered the elevator, but after several seconds it didn't move. Coming to her senses, she realized she had forgotten to press the floor button. The hospital lobby was brightly lit, and the rain was still falling. She didn't know where to look for Liang Muxi.

She opened the umbrella again and took a few steps into the rain. She couldn't quite describe her feelings right now—shock, sadness, grief? Perhaps all of those, plus a negligible sense of loss.

But more than anything, there was a sense of bewilderment, a bewilderment that left one's mind blank.

Two hours before dawn, she stood there alone, unable to explain why or find her destination, experiencing a storm that only she knew—a storm that was both earth-shattering and silent.

A car with its headlights on drove by, and the driver rolled down his window and called out to her, "Hey girl, it's you again?"

Wen Ying turned her face away slowly, and the driver asked again, "Are you alright? Should I take you home?"

Is everything alright? I don't know. Where should I go back to? Besides the rented apartment, I can't think of anywhere else.

Wen Ying folded her umbrella, opened the car door, and got in. The crackling sound became quieter through the car window. She looked out and saw that the roads were flooded, turning into empty oceans. The car was like a slowly sailing boat, carrying her for a while before heading to other shores.

"We're here. Open your umbrella before getting out of the car, it's raining so hard." The car stopped at the entrance of the residential area, and the driver turned up the windshield wipers, saying, "It's really strange, there's someone over there walking in the rain."

Walking in the rain? As if sensing something, Wen Ying looked up and followed the direction the driver was pointing. In the darkness stained by the rain, a blurry figure appeared.

Her heart suddenly leaped into her throat. She hurriedly scanned the code, filled in the numbers, and pressed the password. Amidst the driver's exclamation, "Hey! You gave me too much!" she pushed open the car door and jumped out.

"It's too much, but it's too much. You've worked hard, making two trips in this heavy rain." Wen Ying ran towards that figure. As for the rest, she would just consider it a faint prayer from someone who doesn't believe in gods.

Liang Muqi, please make sure he is happy in the future.

She splashed through the puddles under her feet. Wen Ying didn't count how many steps it took to run towards him. When she reached him, she didn't even have time to catch her breath: "Why didn't you use an umbrella in the rain?"

The figure suddenly stopped. Liang Muqi slowly raised his eyes. One second, two seconds, his blank expression slowly turned into astonishment, as if he had not expected Wen Ying to suddenly appear in front of him.

The umbrella was held high, shielding him. Liang Muqi belatedly realized what was happening, reached out and wiped his face, bringing down a string of wet droplets.

"I forgot to bring it," he said in a low voice, his voice hoarse.

She forgot to bring it, but wouldn't she notice the rain hitting her? Wen Ying opened her mouth, but the sight of the person in front of her with their eyes downcast and their whole body soaked made her heart ache slightly.

She didn't ask any more questions. She raised her hand to hold the umbrella closer and higher, her fingers touching Liang Muxi's shoulder. He finally moved and reached out his hand: "Let me take it."

He took the umbrella handle and held it in his hand. Liang Muqi's hands were also covered in water droplets, and his T-shirt was completely soaked. As if worried about getting Wen Ying's clothes wet, he tilted the umbrella outwards a little.

Wen Ying remained silent, then grabbed his arm, instantly shortening the distance between them until their bodies were pressed together. Liang Muqi stiffened for a moment, but did not pull away.

Wen Ying didn't let go either. The place where her palm touched felt damp and cold. Once again, she wondered when he had left the house and how long he had been walking alone.

But she said nothing; perhaps at this moment, any questioning was unnecessary. They silently entered the building and went up the stairs.

Liang Muqi opened the door, and Wen Ying stood behind him with an umbrella. The door lock was turned, and he went in, and she followed.

The room was pitch black. Liang Muqi didn't turn on the light and stood there motionless. Rainwater slowly trickled down the closed umbrella and fell to the floor, making a soft sound.

She looked down and heard a soft "Wen Ying" coming from the darkness. Liang Muqi called out her name.

When she looked up again, the figure suddenly turned around, and Liang Muqi reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, his voice still hoarse and strained, after the impact of the collision.

"Hold me," Wen Ying said softly. "It doesn't matter how long I hold you..."

Almost at the same moment, the arms around his waist tightened their grip. They no longer cared about whether their dry clothes would get wet. Liang Muqi hugged him tightly, and Wen Ying's cheek pressed against his chest, feeling as cold as his body temperature.

The umbrella slipped from her hand, but she didn't care. She stood there, feeling the person who was embracing her slowly lower their head and bury their heavy head on her shoulder.

As if he could no longer hold on, his weight fell onto her, his damp hair brushing against her ears and neck. Her pulse pounded, and Wen Ying heard Liang Muqi speak, softly and blankly, "Wen Ying, I have no home anymore."

As if struck by something, the crack in my heart slowly opened, and something was about to flow out.

Wen Ying wanted to speak, like in every story she knew by heart, patting his back and saying, "You still have me," but now, she suddenly felt that the words were so weak.

She turned her face away, and heavy breathing could still be heard on her shoulder. In the darkness, she couldn't see the expression on the person's face beside her.

She didn't know how to comfort Liang Muxi in a way that would perfectly heal the wounds of loss. Faced with the weight of losing a loved one, all words seemed fragile, and all promises appeared vague and insignificant.

But he still held her tightly, for even a flimsy promise was better than nothing at all.

Wen Ying raised her hand and hugged him back with the same strength: "I will stay by your side, always."

She gently touched his back, smiled with her eyes crinkling at the corners, but something slipped from her eyes, "Don't let me lose you again, Liang Muxi."

Their first hug took 15 minutes and 3 seconds of the saddest time.

After Liang Muqi let go, Wen Ying felt that her clothes were completely soaked, just like his, but because they had been pressed tightly together, they carried traces of body heat.

"I'm sorry." He glanced at the wrinkles in her clothes on her shoulder, his voice and expression returning to normal, becoming calm. "I'm sorry to have you see...me like this."

Wen Ying shook her head. Actually, she had just cried too, and her tears were wiped on Liang Muxi's T-shirt, so he didn't notice that she looked too disheveled.

However, her eyes were still a little red, because Liang Muqi reached out and rubbed them.

"Go take a shower," he said.

Wen Ying nodded, turned to walk towards the opposite door, but then turned back, her hand on the doorknob. "Where did your phone go?"

She had originally intended to say, "I've sent you a lot of messages," but after thinking about it, she felt it was no longer important, so she simply looked at him and waited for his reply.

“It’s been left at the funeral home,” Liang Muqi said.

"I see," Wen Ying nodded. "Okay." She put her hand behind her back and slowly turned the doorknob.

Liang Muqi looked at her, and the door behind him opened. He suddenly spoke again: "I was too busy yesterday. I saw the message you sent, but I didn't reply."

"Hmm...it's okay," Wen Ying said. "It wasn't anything very important to begin with. It was just some random musings when I was bored."

Liang Muqi hummed in agreement, paused for a few seconds, and continued in a low voice, "Because I... don't want to remember this day in the future, and find that even you are gray."

Wen Ying was slightly taken aback.

She paused at the door, wanting to ask, not wanting her to be tainted by painful memories, why?

For Liang Muxi, what color should Wenying be? Perhaps, it should be special?

But she couldn't bring herself to speak and fully voice her question.

They had just experienced an embrace mixed with rain and tears, and the weight of that embrace still lingered in their hearts. Wen Ying couldn't overcome all of that and calmly pursue the answer to another question.

"When are you planning to go back?" she asked as the door opened.

"Change your clothes," Liang Muqi said. "I originally planned to go home to get my things and leave, but..." As if thinking of the comical scene of being caught in the rain, he twitched the corner of his mouth, looking somewhat helpless. "It won't make a difference if I stay a little longer."

"Wait for me." Wen Ying looked at him. "I'll go with you."

Without waiting for Liang Muxi's reply, Wen Ying quickly opened the door, not even bothering to change her slippers.

There was probably no time to shower; time was of the essence, and even her obsessive-compulsive disorder had to give in. She went to her bedroom to change her clothes, rummaged through the closet for bread and milk, packed them in a bag, and returned to the house across the street.

The door was still half-open. She went in and waited in the entryway for half a minute. Liang Muxi found the things she was going to get and changed her clothes.

"Have something to eat." Wen Ying handed him the bag in her hand, and with her other hand, she took out her phone and searched for the homeroom teacher's number.

Liang Muqi stood beside her, his gaze hesitant, but in the end, he said nothing. He simply inserted the straw, held it in his hand, and quietly watched her dial the phone.

Perhaps because Wen Ying made the call so early, her reason for suddenly falling ill seemed very convincing. Her homeroom teacher told her to take care of her health and approved her leave.

After putting down his phone, Liang Muqi handed her the opened milk carton. The two prepared to go downstairs. After locking the door, the grandfather upstairs slowly came down as well.

This time, Grandpa didn't bring the birdcage. He stood on the steps and started talking to Liang Muxi. He seemed to already know what had happened. Wen Ying looked out the window, and the sky was still gray.

After glancing at the weather forecast, she worried that it would rain today, so she took the keys from Liang Muxi and went back to get her umbrella.

When I opened the door, the soaking wet umbrella was still lying on the ground, as if it too had shed many tears.

Wen Ying bent down, and something flashed into her eyes. She reached out and picked it up, finding it to be a small pearl, which looked like an ornament that had fallen off her clothes.

Wen Ying recalled that there were no decorations on her clothes, and Liang Muxi's clothes... she hadn't noticed them when she wiped away her tears.

She had probably accidentally stuck the bead to her shoe while walking. Holding the umbrella handle, she casually placed the small bead on the cabinet next to her.

Back in the stairwell, the two people who had been talking had stopped. Grandpa was patting Liang Muxi on the shoulder, and Wen Ying walked over and was also gently patted.

They went downstairs, where the road was still flooded. They had walked this road together last night, but their moods were very different today. Although the atmosphere was still gloomy, at least they didn't feel like their minds were blank. After finding Liang Muxi, Wen Ying's heart finally settled down.

Following Liang Muxi into the car, Wen Ying listened as he gave her the address of the funeral home. She couldn't remember the last time she had been to such a place. She usually wore light-colored clothes, and the one she was wearing was one she had finally managed to find.

Because it was placed in a corner and kept folded into a square shape, it has several deep creases that are hard to get rid of when unfolded.

Wen Ying thought of the clothes she had taken off; there were slight wrinkles on the shoulders. They hadn't hugged for long, so the wrinkles weren't as pronounced as the ones on her clothes.

She felt no regret; in that brief moment, she had offered Liang Muxi all the comfort she could. The embrace was silent, but she still had a promise.

The wrinkles of Wen Ying's promise were also deeply etched in Liang Muxi's memory.

To resist the gray, rainy summer of his eighteenth year, which exposed his vulnerability and drenched him.