A social phobic can also fall in love.

Lately, Yan Tingmo had been feeling quite troubled.

The underclassman Gu Beinan seemed determined to befriend him, blocking him downstairs at the dormitory several times. He was so exasperated he wished he could scale walls or disappear into the ground to escape.

“You guys go ahead,” he urged his roommates from the dormitory balcony, peering nervously down. “I’ll wait until he leaves before going downstairs.”

He Shiyang frowned. “That won’t work, Mo Zai. This guy’s so persistent. Are you going to sneak around every time you need to go to class?”

Yan Tingmo sighed. “It won’t come to that. He probably won’t keep this up for long, right?”

Zhou Wen chimed in, “I doubt it. Judging by how infatuated he seems with you, this could go on for a while.”

That only deepened Yan Tingmo’s distress. “What should I do, then?”

Zhang Miao offered some advice. “Cut the Gordian knot. Tell him straight.”

“That’s not really appropriate,” Yan Tingmo hesitated. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. He just wants to be friends.”

“Then why are you hiding?” He Shiyang countered. “If he means no harm, what’s there to be afraid of?”

Left speechless, Yan Tingmo thought to himself. Yeah, what am I hiding for? Someone wants to be friends with me—it’s a good thing, isn’t it? Why am I running away?

“You’re right,” Yan Tingmo said, clenching his fist in resolve. “I should embrace it instead of dodging him!”

He Shiyang: “…” Well, that was quick.

Brimming with newfound determination, Yan Tingmo boldly hid behind his three roommates as they went downstairs together.

Gu Beinan, who had been idly waiting, lit up the moment he saw him emerge. “Senior!”

“Hello,” Yan Tingmo replied stiffly. “We meet again.”

Gu Beinan raised his right hand, which held several cups of milk tea. “It’s no coincidence. I was waiting here for you on purpose. By the way, I bought some signature milk teas. If you and your friends don’t mind, please accept them.”

He’s so good at handling situations, Yan Tingmo thought for the umpteenth time, envying his flawless social skills.

There’s a saying that you can’t scold someone who’s smiling at you. Zhang Miao happily took the milk teas, patting Gu Beinan on the shoulder. “You’re a smooth talker, huh? I like it!”

“Uh…” Gu Beinan stiffened for a moment but quickly returned to normal. “As long as you like it, Senior.” Though his words were directed at Zhang Miao, his gaze was fixed on Yan Tingmo.

Yan Tingmo, clearly out of sync with the moment, said earnestly, “Too much milk tea can make you gain weight. You should drink less in the future.”

Zhang Miao, just about to stick a straw into his cup, froze. After a moment, feeling obligated to defend Gu Beinan, he mumbled, “That’s not entirely true. Whether someone gains weight depends on their body type. Some people gain weight from drinking water, while others eat all they want and don’t gain a pound. Besides, Mo Zai, you’re not fat. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Yan Tingmo had spoken without much thought, realizing too late how tactless it sounded. “That’s not what I meant.”

Gu Beinan, understanding his social awkwardness, wasn’t bothered. “It’s fine. If you don’t like milk tea, I’ll get you something else next time.”

“I don’t need you to buy me food,” Yan Tingmo said, frowning slightly.

Gu Beinan opened his mouth to say something, but he cut him off. “I don’t make friends this way.”

Gu Beinan froze, briefly wondering if he’d come on too strong and caused annoyance.

Sensing his sincerity, Yan Tingmo added, “If you really want to be friends with me, I’m okay with that. So, can you stop waiting for me like this?”

“I wasn’t trying to block you,” Gu Beinan said with restraint. “Senior, in that case, can we exchange contact info?”

Yan Tingmo hesitated. His roommates immediately whipped out their phones. “Of course! Add us too—more friends, more connections!”

After watching his roommates all exchange contacts, Yan Tingmo reluctantly took out his phone and showed his QR code.

The five of them huddled in a circle under the dormitory building, drawing curious looks from passing students. However, no one lingered for more than a moment before hurrying away.

“Done! Expanded our friend circle,” Zhang Miao declared. “By the way, what’s your name, Junior?”

“Gu Beinan. Gu as in ‘to care,’ Bei and Nan as in ‘north and south.’”

“Nice name!”

“And you, Seniors?” Gu Beinan asked politely.

“Zhang Miao,” he replied, gesturing to He Shiyang with his thumb. “That’s He Shiyang, and on the left is Zhou Wen.”

Gu Beinan nodded and smiled. “I’ll leave you guys to it, then. I don’t want to disturb you further.”

He turned his gaze back to Yan Tingmo. “Senior Yan, I’ll message you on WeChat. Oh, and drink the milk tea while it’s warm. It might upset your stomach if left too long.”

Yan Tingmo nodded, watching hin leave.

“Tsk, tsk,” Zhou Wen said, crossing his arms, balancing his milk tea on his chest. “His intentions are way too obvious.”

He Shiyang tossed his milk tea to Zhang Miao. “So what? Mo Zai’s as dense as a rock. All that passion’s wasted on a blind man.”

Yan Tingmo, clueless, asked, “What are you guys talking about? I don’t understand.”

He Shiyang raised an eyebrow and said sincerely, “We’re complimenting your brilliance.”

Zhou Wen sighed, seeing his innocent expression, and added, “And your beauty.”

Zhang Miao hugged his milk tea and took a big sip, sighing contentedly. “It’s delicious.”

He Shiyang and Zhou Wen exchanged a glance, shook their heads, and silently agreed: These kids are so clueless. What choice do we have but to indulge them?

Little did they know, it would be the “dense” Yan Tingmo and Zhang Miao who would be the first to find love. This left the two “smarter” ones questioning if their intelligence had somehow caused the matchmaking god to overlook them, leaving them single for eternity.

Meanwhile, Yan Tingmo, who didn’t care for sweets, awkwardly held his milk tea. Zhou Wen noticed and took it from him. “Give it to me. I’ve got a friend who loves this stuff.”

“Oh, okay.” Yan Tingmo handed it over without much thought but then asked absentmindedly, “Who are you giving it to?”

Zhou Wen raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Someone you know.”

“Ah?” Yan Tingmo was startled. “Who?”

Zhou Wen smirked. “Not telling you.”

Yan Tingmo: “…”

Too lazy to bother with Zhou Wen, he shoved the milk tea into his hands and ran off without looking back.

Today’s schedule wasn’t too heavy. After finishing his last two classes, Yan Tingmo followed the crowd to the cafeteria for dinner. With his drawing board slung over his shoulder, he slowly made his way back to the dorm.

Shuffling like a tortoise to the dormitory door, he reached into his pocket to grab his key, only to come up empty-handed. It was then he remembered he’d forgotten to bring it when he left at noon.

As he pondered what to do, just as he was about to call He Shiyang for help, a faint “click-clack” sound came from inside. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Zhang Miao’s head wrapped in bandages and a plaster cast on his foot.

“You’re…?” Yan Tingmo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Beaten up by someone?”

“No.” Zhang Miao blinked his swollen eyes and said in a muffled voice, “Come in first. I’ll explain inside.” Heaven forbid anyone saw him like this—so embarrassing.

Yan Tingmo squeezed inside, giving him a once-over. He was baffled. “What happened? Who bullied you?”

Zhang Miao looked as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t. After stammering for ages, he finally blurted out, “I fell… on my own.”

“Uh…” Yan Tingmo fell silent. After a moment, he asked, “How… did you manage to fall?”

Zhang Miao clearly didn’t want to recall the event, his expression pained and hopeless. Under Yan Tingmo’s confused gaze, he closed his eyes tightly and shouted, “I was too happy! I accidentally fell off the podium and broke my foot!”

Yan Tingmo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You were happy? So you decided to take a celebratory tumble?”

“Not exactly…” Zhang Miao sighed softly and muttered, “I was actually pretty upset.”

Yan Tingmo tentatively asked, “Upset about what?”

Zhang Miao shot him a resentful look, thinking, Why must you poke the sore spot, Yan Tingmo? You’re not very good at this comforting thing, are you?

Seeing him remain silent, Yan Tingmo grew anxious. “Tell me! If you don’t say anything, how am I supposed to know?”

“Fine, fine,” Zhang Miao relented, hopping on one foot toward his bed. “I’ll tell you, but you’re not allowed to laugh at me.”

Yan Tingmo hurriedly nodded, solemnly promising not to laugh.

Zhang Miao perched on the edge of his bed, his plastered leg stretched out. After rubbing his hands together, he began, “Your junior bought us milk tea, right? He Shiyang didn’t drink his and gave it to me. I figured two cups were too much for me, so I thought I’d give one to the senior I like and maybe make an impression. So then…”

He trailed off awkwardly.

Yan Tingmo leaned forward, eager. “And then?”

“Then I overheard them saying something about the school hosting a comic convention. The senior likes a certain character but hasn’t found anyone to cosplay it. I thought, ‘What a golden opportunity! If I participate in the convention and get close to her, she’s bound to notice me!’”

“I handed her the milk tea and made a little show of being attentive. She said she liked a character named Qiao, and I seemed to fit the height and build perfectly. She said she was struggling to find someone and asked if I wanted to sign up—she’d even coach me on the poses.”

Yan Tingmo frowned. “And?”

The two stared at each other for a while. Yan Tingmo couldn’t help but remind him, “Go on!”

“Uh… after hearing her, I got so excited, I jumped… and accidentally jumped off the podium. The rest, well, you’ve seen.”

Yan Tingmo: “…”

“Sigh.” Zhang Miao’s face was full of regret. “The opportunity I worked so hard to get—I ruined it myself. The senior is probably super disappointed now.”

Yan Tingmo wanted to console him but couldn’t think of anything appropriate. He awkwardly said, “It’s okay. Since you’re injured, you could play the sympathy card and get her to pity you.”

Zhang Miao’s eyes lit up as he slapped his plastered foot. “Great idea!”

“Ow, holy crap!”

He grimaced in pain, trying to blow on his foot but failing to reach it.

Seeing this, Yan Tingmo felt distressed. He stepped forward, gently lifting his leg. He hesitated, unsure whether to massage it in case it hurt more.

Zhang Miao finally caught his breath, slumping against the bedframe like a deflated balloon. He stared at Yan Tingmo for a moment.

Yan Tingmo pressed his lips together, poking his knee with a finger. “Still hurt?”

“Huh?” Zhang Miao snapped out of his daze. “It’s fine. No big deal. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

Hearing that, Yan Tingmo let go decisively and got up to return to his own bed.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Zhang Miao grabbed him, spun him around, and exclaimed with delight, “Tingmo, you’re about the same height as me!”

Yan Tingmo: “Hm?”

“You’re my lucky star!” Zhang Miao beamed foolishly. “You can cosplay Qiao for me!”