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

"It's so cold, why did you have to go out at this time?"

As she got off the bus, Yang Li wrapped her scarf tighter around herself: "They say it's a road to spring and summer... I'm practically frozen solid on this road."

As soon as Yang Li complained, Guo Jingye glanced over and said, "Then go back to the car."

She seemed to be in a particularly bad mood today, and she was specifically targeting Yang Li to vent her anger.

Under the PD's instruction, Xiao Wu reluctantly walked over and acted as a human shield, standing between the two people.

"Teachers, let me give you a riddle," Xiao Wu tried to change the subject. "Besides 'butterfly,' what other words can the 'hu' in 'butterfly' form?"

The volcano in Guo Jingye's eyes disappeared, and she and Yang Li were caught up in a brainstorming session.

Shi Yuan, who was standing nearby, overheard this and asked curiously, "So what words can be formed? My vocabulary is so limited, I can't think of any at all."

Xiao Wu smiled shyly: "It's Wu Hu."

"..." The three guests, along with the drowsy Yuan Chen, were all filled with question marks.

"Perhaps none of you teachers know yet, but now that the PD has given me this opportunity, please allow me to introduce myself." Xiao Wu pinched the hem of her clothes. "My name is Wu Hu, you can just call me Xiao Wu."

The guests fell silent. After a long while, Yang Li rubbed her arms and said, "Why do I feel even colder..."

The four of them stood bewildered in the wind, while Wen Ying and Shen Zhu had already gone far away.

The cameraman followed behind, filming slowly. For some reason, the pace of the two people walking gave off a feeling of an elderly group in their golden years.

"This is the first time I've seen the sea in winter," Wen Ying said softly.

This feeling is different from summer.

The sea in summer is boiling, with waves crashing against the rocks and breaking into sparkling little pieces. The sea breeze is salty and briny, carrying the sweat of a seventeen-year-old, and the whole world is filled with lively sounds.

The sea before us is silent, lying dormant on the black sand in the long winter night.

Shen Zhu was also wearing black today, and Wen Ying couldn't help but glance at him a few more times before asking, "Have you been wearing this for many days?"

Shen Zhu said, "No, it's only been two days."

Despite saying that, he hesitated, grabbed his collar and sniffed it: "It doesn't seem to smell. Smell it."

He then extended his hand to Wen Ying, asking her to examine him.

Wen Ying refused, citing a stuffy nose.

Shen Zhu was skeptical of her reasoning. He glanced back and saw that a group of people who had been far behind had finally caught up and were getting closer and closer to them in a grand manner.

He pursed his lips, a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice: "I knew it, you still feel ashamed to be with me."

Wen Ying glanced at him.

Shen Zhu paused subtly, then suddenly changed his mind: "I mean, stand with me."

"I don't think so. Don't misunderstand me," Wen Ying said helplessly.

She had given up on arguing about Shen Zhu's occasional nitpicking. In short, this person had a peculiar thought process, and it was common for him to have tantrums. Wen Ying had to learn to get used to it and be tolerant.

Shen Zhu looked at her suspiciously and shook his coat.

The night wind picked up again, and Wen Ying sneezed, now she really felt an itch in her nose.

Fortunately, the PD finally arrived with his team. The rest of the filming process was simple: the six of them walked around the beach twice, chatting idly about things that were colder than winter.

There was one last shot left: a black piano was placed on the edge of a beach covered with ice shards. The PD asked the guests to film a scene next to the piano, preferably showcasing some exceptional seaside music.

Everyone turned their attention to Shen Zhu, but he actually took a step back and stood behind Wen Ying, showing no intention of performing in public.

"I'm sorry," he said, not very sincerely, "I'm socially awkward."

Wen Ying: "..." I almost burst out laughing.

With an extremely capricious attitude, Shen Zhu gave up the opportunity to hold an open-air concert and simply stood beside Wen Ying, acting as a hand warmer with only his hands as the area that could generate heat.

From an angle unseen by others, Shen Zhu silently grasped Wen Ying's wrist and slipped her hand into his pocket.

"are not you cold?"

Wen Ying glanced down and saw that most of Shen Zhu's hand was still sticking out, but he seemed oblivious, as if he could get a constant source of warmth just by touching the edge of his pocket.

"I'm not cold, I'm burning up." Shen Zhu said, taking Wen Ying's entire hand into his palm, and a steady stream of heat followed.

Wen Ying turned to look at him. Shen Zhu's expression was unreadable, as if this was really just to show off his strong physique. He only touched him lightly before immediately separating.

He gazed steadily ahead, intently appreciating the piano music.

Young singer Shen Zhu did not appear on stage; instead, Shi Yuan was pushed onto the stage.

Fortunately, Shi Yuan is very professional. He did as the PD said and humbly sat on the piano bench, placed his ten fingers on the black and white keys, and smiled at the camera: "Actually, I am more good at dancing and don't have much knowledge of musical instruments. I hope you can forgive me."

Shi Yuan played a piano piece called "Thirteen Days in France," which was very fitting for the occasion, accompanied by the cold stars and the occasional cold wind.

Wen Ying doesn't actually have much insight into music; she just thinks his fingertips move very smoothly and the song itself is very nice.

Like everyone else, she stood quietly listening. The photographers would occasionally push their equipment past. Suddenly, Wen Ying felt a light touch on the back of her hand.

More than once, Shen Zhu reached his hand in again, his warm fingertips touching his skin, sometimes pausing and sometimes withdrawing.

Wen Ying let him run wild. After a few seconds, she realized that Shen Zhu's movements seemed to be very rhythmic, and the pauses were exactly the same as the music played by Shi Yuan.

Wen Ying looked up and glanced at him.

"What's wrong?" Shen Zhu lowered his voice, leaned down slightly, and moved closer to her.

They had to stand very close to each other to talk, for fear of making any noise and disturbing other people listening to the concert.

"It's nothing." Wen Ying shook her head and saw Shen Zhu smiling at her.

The lingering warmth left by Shen Zhu remained on her skin for a long time, like a feather gently brushing against Wen Ying's heart.

This made her involuntarily fall into a whirlpool again, and she couldn't help but wonder in her heart whether Shen Zhu's actions were out of love for music, or simply... just to touch her palm.

In the two days since they met again, their relationship has progressed rapidly. They went from being silent at the beginning to becoming intimately close.

Most of the time, Wen Ying felt like she was dreaming, floating on air, feeling very unreal. Occasionally, she would feel that the four years that had passed silently were the dream itself.

Perhaps they never argued, never had any conflicts, and never experienced sudden loss of contact or neglect.

With Shen Zhu by her side, Wen Ying felt at peace, and felt that this moment was the only real one.