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

After reading those pages, Wen Ying blinked her sore eyes, looked up, and noticed that Chen Ge had somehow pulled out another whiteboard, which looked like the kind used for meetings.

The whiteboard was covered in dust, indicating that it had been purchased a long time ago, but because the owner of the whiteboard was always out doing other things, and the ward was not frequently visited, it had been left unused under the bed.

Liang Muqi squatted down in front of Chen Ge, head down, and took out the screw that had been pressed into the wrong position, and put it into the correct hole.

Chen Ge held his phone, scrolling through the instruction manual he found by taking a picture and searching for it. He picked up the second part, hesitating.

Liang Muxi waited a few seconds, and Chen Ge finally decided on the position, but it was obviously wrong again. So Liang Muxi moved the second part that had passed through his hands to a different position as well.

Chen Ge picked up another horizontal bar. Liang Muqi hesitated, as if he had something to say, but didn't say it.

Wen Ying leaned closer at that moment: "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Without waiting for Liang Muxi to speak, they understood and took away the person who was interfering with the assembly.

Chen Ge was dragged back to the sofa, and he had nothing to do again. He looked around at the two people who were still staring at those few pages of paper.

Xia Yin seemed lost in thought, while Wang Ziming put his sunglasses back on his nose.

Chen Ge gestured to Wen Ying: "Actually, this isn't the scenario I envisioned."

"What does it look like?" Wen Ying asked softly, glancing at Wang Ziming. "Ziming is a Pisces, and his tear ducts are naturally more developed than others, so it's inevitable that he'll make the atmosphere sad. We can't blame him."

Chen Ge picked up a French fry and put it in his mouth: "Okay, but I was expecting it to be a bit cooler than it is now."

"So it's not cool now?"

Wen Ying handed him the ketchup, making a "click" sound like a lighter as she lit it.

"That's pretty cool." Chen Ge said, biting into a fries and resting his chin on his hand. "I think I can get a good night's sleep tonight."

Wen Ying lit one for herself and smoked with Chen Ge for a while. Suddenly, Liang Muqi glanced over here.

Wen Ying slid off the sofa, picked up another fries dipped in sauce, and took small steps back to Liang Muxi.

Wen Ying eagerly offered him the fries, while Liang Muqi, who was finishing up, politely said, "Thank you, I don't smoke."

He lifted the assembled frame and stood up. Wen Ying also stood up and held the fries to Liang Muqi's mouth, saying, "If you don't smoke, you're not giving me face."

Her tone was quite forceful, and Liang Muqi looked at her with a bit of helplessness: "Then I'll go wash my hands first."

"I have wet wipes in my pocket, feel around." Wen Ying said, turning her body slightly so that Liang Muqi could easily reach her pocket.

Liang Muqi took out a tissue from her pocket, pulled out a wet tissue, and put it back.

He still gave her face, bent down and ate the fry before wiping his fingers clean.

Chen Ge looked at them thoughtfully for a while, then walked over, picked up a marker, and wrote on it: "Stop for a moment, I have something to say."

Only Liang Muxi and Wen Ying stopped reading; the other two remained seated on the sofa, engrossed in their reading.

Wen Ying: "What you're doing is similar to asking 'Are you there?' in a chat."

Chen Ge: "It's different. I look more like a teacher this way."

Liang Muqi found another marker on the ground and handed it to Wen Ying. Wen Ying wrote, "Teacher, look! My handwriting is better than yours."

Chen Ge stretched out his arm: "Classmate, my handwriting is taller than yours."

Wen Ying turned to look at Liang Muqi and handed him the pen again. Liang Muqi pondered for a moment, then wrote a series of crooked words at the bottom with his left hand: "Don't be so childish."

Liang Muxi offended both of them with a single sentence, so he could only apologize by offering them fries and ketchup, which he then ordered for each of them.

Wen Ying was very magnanimous and forgave him, but Chen Ge was arrogant: "Give me two."

So it turned into a scene where Wen Ying took the box of fries and chased after Chen Ge to feed him, walking around the ward countless times before Xia Yin stopped her.

"Two crazy kids," Xia Yin sighed. "Can't they just sit still?"

"Life lies in movement." Chen Ge dragged his chair back to the blackboard.

"Isn't it about exercise?" Xia Yin asked, her gaze fixed on the line of text. "Never mind, just write whatever makes you happy."

At this moment, Wang Ziming raised his head and asked Chen Ge, "Will you still be able to compete with us later?"

Chen Ge scratched his chin with his pen: "This... I'm afraid it'll be a bit difficult."

Wang Ziming's expression became conflicted, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't, and he hesitated a lot.

Wen Ying: "Don't be fooled by him. The expression on his face is exactly the same as the day he invited me to sing. He might be secretly pleased with himself."

"What's so great about that? All you do is bluff and try to scare me," Wang Ziming said angrily. "Write a hundred songs for Chronicles of Flying Birds. That's your punishment."

Chen Ge drew a question mark: "Isn't that too much?"

"Is that too much?" Xia Yin asked back. "I think this punishment is a bit too lenient. Here's what we'll do: starting today, don't just play your electronic keyboard anymore. Add guitar, bass, drums, suona, and the like. I remember someone once said that they were an all-rounder and were very good at every instrument."

"That's just the art of language," Chen Ge wrote, paused for a moment, and then straightened his handwriting somewhat uneasily. "I'm sorry, I apologize again for my past deception."

“Actually, what kind of deception is this?” Xia Yin looked at him and smiled. “Maybe we were meant to be friends.”

What kind of punishment is writing a hundred songs?

It's simply about leaving a few more voices in this world.

"Teacher Chen, what exactly were you trying to say?" Wen Ying asked.

"This is a tip for people with sensitive tear ducts."

As soon as Chen Ge finished writing this sentence, he heard Wang Ziming's voice: "Stop talking nonsense, who's crying?"

"Take off your sunglasses first."

“…” Wang Ziming turned his face away. “No.”

Chen Ge wrote down the topic he wanted to announce on the whiteboard.

Mentioning death and funerals in a hospital ward is actually very inappropriate, but Chen Ge seems to be used to being free and unrestrained. Chen Ge's mother also indulges him and took him to buy a cemetery plot with a good view a long time ago.

He expressed his hope that his funeral would be filled with flowers and few tears, and then mentioned the custom-made, supposedly very cool tombstone.

"You should definitely go see it often, because it's well worth seeing." Chen Ge wrote and revised, "Uh, it's worth seeing many times, the scenery is beautiful."

They continued communicating on the whiteboard, but no one spoke anymore.

The ward became quiet, with only the scribbling sound of writing and the occasional soft urging, "It's my turn," "Give me a pen," "You're taking up so much space on purpose, aren't you?" "Why are there only two pens for five people?"

The group stayed until sunset, and most of the snacks on the table were gone. It wasn't until Chen Ge's mother came in to take Chen Ge for a check-up that they cleaned up the trash and prepared to leave.

Before leaving, Xia Yin said she would come to visit again when she had time, but Chen Ge said no need: "I'll come back to see you in a few days."

He is a man of his word and never wastes time.

On the morning of the second Saturday, Chen Ge appeared in the classroom on time, only to be caught off guard by the weekly test.

Wen Ying looked at the figure patiently tossing erasers not far away. Although the answers thrown out were almost all wrong, Chen Ge seemed more willing to hand over the test paper to the insignificant probability than to hand in a blank paper.

Chen Ge also participated in the rehearsals after school. Liang Muqi took Wen Ying to a bar, and halfway there, the taxi Chen Ge was in passed by them.

Chen Ge rolled down the car window and made a gesture.

Liang Muqi turned his head: "What did he just say?"

Wen Ying: "You're saying we're slow—driver, please step on the gas!"

“I’ve done my best,” Liang Muqi replied.

“Okay, we can’t blame Xiao Huang.” Wen Ying patted the back seat with pity. “Xiao Huang only has two wheels, while a taxi has four. Chen Ge’s victory was unfair.”

Liang Muxi chuckled. A few minutes later, the taxi that had just passed them circled around and returned to the left side of the road.

Chen Ge leaned against the car window, resting his chin on his hand, and waved when he saw Wen Ying looking over.

"Why is he back again?" Wen Yinghao was shocked and patted Liang Muqi on the back. "Is this a provocation? This is a provocation!"

Liang Muqi looked down, and the display screen on the electric car remained steadily on a number.

The light turned green, and the taxi sped away. Wen Ying heard Liang Muqi mutter to himself, "Well, we still need to work hard."

The band rehearsals proceeded as scheduled on the third Saturday.

After a round of performances, during the intermission, Wen Ying, who had forgotten to charge Xiao Huang the night before, took her water bottle to the back door and plugged in the power strip.

Turning around again, she saw Chen Ge had followed her out and was standing silently behind her.

"You scared me." Wen Ying patted her chest. The air outside was fresh, so she sat down in the car.

"Why didn't Liang Muqi bring you here today?" Chen Ge asked.

“Because he has other things to do,” Wen Ying said. “A while ago, a tutoring center manager contacted him and asked if he could help compile review materials. He initially refused, but recently, for some reason, he started working part-time again.”

"Oh, I thought something had happened to you guys."

“No problem.” Wen Ying unscrewed the bottle cap and took a sip of water. “It’s just that this person is always busy; he seems to be used to being busy every day.”

"Energetic people always have something to do," Chen Ge said. "You are very energetic too."

"Hmm?" Wen Ying screwed the bottle cap back on and turned her head. "But I feel very weak every day, and I will never stand if I have the chance to sit."

"You can sing five songs in a row without taking a break." Chen Ge tossed the water bottle in his hand back and forth.

“But usually by the fourth song, I feel a bit strained.” Wen Ying paused midway through her sentence, “Doesn’t he also feel tired?”

Chen Ge thought for a moment and said, "I think he should be quite happy."

"is it?"

"Yes." Chen Ge nodded firmly. "Otherwise, why would we do that?"

After rehearsal ended in the evening, Wen Ying called Liang Muxi to ask if he had gone home.

Liang Muxi replied that not yet, as there were some things to take care of, but he would be back soon.

Wen Ying exclaimed, "Wow! Some people haven't even graduated yet, but they're already experiencing what it's like to work overtime!"

A soft laugh came from Liang Muxi's phone. He asked, "Have you had dinner?"

“We had dinner at seven o’clock,” Wen Ying replied. “It’s ten o’clock now, time to order a late-night snack.”

"Okay." Liang Muqi seemed to put on headphones, her voice becoming closer, "What do you want to eat? I'll order for you."

Wen Ying: "No need, I've already ordered. We'll eat together when you get back."

Liang Muqi said "okay," and the sound of typing came from the keyboard. Wen Ying waited for a while, but the call was not hung up.

She held the phone to her ear and listened quietly. After about ten minutes, Liang Muqi seemed to stand up. Wen Ying guessed that he was tidying up the things on the table.

Another person said goodbye to him, and Liang Muqi also said a polite word, and then he heard the sound of him walking down the steps.

"We're getting ready to go home now. It's windy outside, it'll be noisy later." This was said to Wen Ying. Liang Muqi asked in a low voice, "Should I hang up now?"

Wen Ying: "Just hang it up, just hang it up."

Liang Muxi said "See you later," and the call ended with a beep.

Wen Ying tossed her phone into her bag and counted down: five, four, three, two, one.

Footsteps sounded, and she turned her head to look at the light, waving and saying, "Hi."

Liang Muqi stood there, his gaze slightly taken aback.

Wen Ying asked again, "Why aren't you coming over?" He seemed to suddenly realize something, and walked towards her while taking off his headphones.

"I ordered takeout for you." Wen Ying hung the bag on his arm. "If you've already eaten, consider it a late-night snack. Do you want to eat here, or go home and eat?"

"Let's go home," Liang Muqi said, reaching out to touch her face. "It's getting colder outside. Have you been waiting long?"

"It's only ten minutes. I'm wearing a lot of clothes today, so I don't feel cold." Wen Ying patted the back seat. "Just leave your bicycle here for now. I'll give you a ride today."

Liang Muqi stared at her intently, and Wen Ying said, "What's wrong? Don't you believe my driving skills? Let me tell you, I've been practicing lately..."

Before she could finish speaking, her cheek was suddenly lifted up, and Liang Muqi lowered his head and gently touched the corner of her lips.

After kissing himself, he felt embarrassed and looked away, saying, "It's not that I don't believe you."

"Oh..." Wen Ying pursed her lips, almost laughing, "Then why don't you come up quickly?"

Liang Muxi took Wen Ying's guitar bag, put it on his back, and sat in the back seat.

This was the second time Wen Ying had given him a ride in the yellow car, and both times it was late at night.

The streets were deserted, with only the occasional vehicle passing by.

A few minutes after Xiao Huang left, Wen Ying suddenly spoke up: "Liang Muxi, do you know how unsafe you are in your current state..."

"I'm sorry." Liang Muqi always apologized before understanding the situation, and then tried to find a reason. "Is it because it's too late?"

“No.” Wen Ying shook her head with her back to him. “Guess again.”

Liang Muxi then offered a series of speculations, from "not having a signed labor contract means there's no way to protect one's rights" to "I forgot to charge Xiao Huang last night, so it went hungry," and then to "I won't forget to eat dinner from now on."

Wen Ying was surprised that even this could be tricked, and immediately reached behind her and patted the person behind her.

"Why do you always forget to eat? The saying 'food is the most important thing for people' is deeply ingrained in people's minds. When we get home, I'll set an alarm specifically to remind you to eat."

"Okay." Liang Muqi quickly apologized again, "So that's the reason why I made you angry."

“I wasn’t angry at first,” Wen Ying snorted. “At first, I just wanted you to hold me tight.”

Liang Muqi moved closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. Wen Ying felt him press his forehead against her back. Because of the clothes, the movement was very gentle.

She lowered her eyes to look at the hand resting on her body; the bracelet shimmered with a crystalline luster.

The scars are no longer visible, which may mean that I have been trying my best to make Liang Muxi happier.

“I’m going to another competition in a few days. When I asked Teacher Zhou for leave, she asked me with great concern if I would not come back to class if I won the competition,” Wen Ying said.

The arm around her waist twitched slightly, and Wen Yingying said with some worry, "This time you'll be staying out of town for half a month, which is a long time. Will you suddenly turn into a little fish again?"