A social phobic can also fall in love.

Back at the dormitory, Yan Tingmo took out the fried dough twists and crispy cakes his mom had prepared and shared them with his roommates.

Feeling a bit embarrassed since these were just humble snacks, he said, “My mom made these. It’s her specialty.”

His roommates were enthusiastic, taking bites that sent crumbs scattering. “Delicious! Your mom is amazing!” they praised.

Yan Tingmo smiled modestly, packed the remaining snacks into his locker, grabbed clean clothes, and got ready to shower and sleep.

His roommates, He Shiyang and the others, were usually the last to sleep. When he emerged from the shower, he found the three of them engrossed in a game.

Standing beside Zhang Miao, he watched for a while, silently judging Zhang Miao’s poor gameplay as he kept losing lives. Unable to hold back, he offered some advice: “You need to use your second skill first, then the first, and finally your ultimate.”

Zhang Miao was playing Daji. He wagged his tail and charged into the enemy’s base, only to be instantly killed by Zhuge Liang, who had just respawned.

“What the heck?” Zhang Miao flared up. “What are you two doing guarding the tower without helping me?”

Zhou Wen, not even looking up, retorted, “What’s the point of chasing kills when we’re about to lose our base?”

“Exactly,” He Shiyang said, focused on attacking minions. “Winning is about the result, not the process.”

Yan Tingmo found their reasoning oddly convincing. Even though he wasn’t addicted to gaming, he suddenly felt an itch to play.

Ten minutes later, the game ended in defeat. Zhang Miao had singlehandedly fed the enemy team 30 kills, making Zhuge Liang unstoppable. Even He Shiyang and Zhou Wen’s efforts to turn the tide were in vain.

Feeling tempted, Yan Tingmo quietly asked, “Can I try playing too?”

“Huh?” Zhang Miao glanced at him. “Do you know how?”

After hesitating for a moment, Yan Tingmo answered uncertainly, “I think so?”

“No worries if you don’t,” Zhou Wen reassured. “We’ll carry you.”

Thinking Yan Tingmo was a novice, the group pampered him in the game—letting him farm gold, take kills, and dominate resources. Before long, it turned into Yan Tingmo carrying three deadweights, leading them to a narrow victory.

After a moment of silence, Zhang Miao asked, “You’re sure you’re new to this?”

Yan Tingmo had no choice but to confess, “I played a couple of rounds as Qiao before to get familiar with the skills.”

After a pause, he added, “It’s actually pretty simple…”

The three roommates fell into a strange silence. Was this the difference between a genius and the rest of them? It had taken them years to master the game, while he excelled after just one match.

This must be talent—blessed by the heavens.

With a newly crowned gaming master in the dorm, Zhang Miao immediately latched onto him, begging him to help him rank up to King.

Unable to refuse, Yan Tingmo reluctantly agreed, pulling an all-nighter to play with his roommates.

The next morning, four bleary-eyed pandas stumbled out of Dorm 302, each with darker circles under their eyes than the last.

Yawning as he left the dorm, Yan Tingmo rubbed his eyes wearily.

So tired. He just wanted to crawl back into bed.

But he had two morning classes to attend and could only muster the energy to head toward the lecture hall, swaying with fatigue.

Barely surviving until lunchtime, he dashed to the coffee shop across from campus and ordered a cup of coffee to perk himself up.

He didn’t want to fall asleep in class that afternoon.

After placing his order, he found a quiet spot, set his bag on the chair next to him, unzipped it, and pulled out his tablet to sketch.

Once immersed in work, he became completely focused, so much so that he didn’t even notice Qi Xing standing nearby with a coffee in hand, watching him for a while.

When stuck for inspiration, Yan Tingmo had a habit of subconsciously holding his stylus between his teeth. His brows furrowed slightly, and his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

Qi Xing’s gaze shifted from the screen to his lips, which were slightly parted around the stylus. The soft, pink tongue occasionally peeked out, brushing the pen’s surface.

Damn.

Even sketching looks seductive, Qi Xing thought.

He glanced around, annoyed to find others sneaking looks at Yan Tingmo. What’s wrong with these people? Don’t they have partners of their own? Stop staring at someone else’s.

Wait—not mine anymore.

The thought made Qi Xing inexplicably angry.

They’d been happily dating, but Yan Tingmo had ended things abruptly without a shred of hesitation. If he didn’t know him better, he’d have assumed Yan Tingmo was just a heartless player.

Hmph. He prided himself on having self-respect. Since the breakup, he hadn’t reached out once.

Who needed Yan Tingmo to survive, anyway?

“Here’s your coffee,” he suddenly said, interrupting Yan Tingmo’s creative flow.

Turning around, Yan Tingmo froze when he saw him. Reflexively, he shielded his tablet with his hand.

No way could Qi Xing see this.

If Qi Xing saw his current work, he’d definitely think he was being improper.

Even though the sketch was quite improper, as long as Qi Xing didn’t see it, he could still pretend to be a serious person.

Qi Xing placed the coffee on the table, glancing at Yan Tingmo’s feeble attempts to hide his tablet. With a faint smirk, he said, “I already saw it.”

Yan Tingmo froze, his large almond-shaped eyes wide with shame and indignation.

Seeing his reaction, Qi Xing felt inexplicably satisfied and couldn’t resist teasing him. “Never thought you had this side to you.”

Flustered, Yan Tingmo stammered, “It’s… the client’s request…”

Of course, Qi Xing knew it was a client’s request—he was the client. But he feigned ignorance. “I don’t believe you. Unless you show me.”

How could he show him? Yan Tingmo was shocked. He didn’t care whether Qi Xing believed him or not!

Qi Xing chuckled. “What’s the matter? Got nothing to say?”

“No.” Yan Tingmo replied honestly, “Why do I need to make you believe me?”

We’re already broken up, aren’t we?

Qi Xing was momentarily speechless, staring at him in disbelief.

What the hell? When did Yan Tingmo get so sharp-tongued?

Did breaking up unlock his hidden potential?

“Hmph.” he snorted dismissively. “As if I care. Who’s interested?”

Yan Tingmo: “…” If you don’t care, then stop looking at me like that! It makes me feel like I’m doing something bad!

Afraid he might push things too far and upset him, Qi Xing glanced at him again with an air of detachment, then turned gracefully, the hem of his skirt swaying, as he prepared to leave.

“Wait!”

Yan Tingmo grabbed the edge of his skirt and asked hesitantly, “Can I take a picture of you?”

Qi Xing, dressed in women’s clothing, looked stunning, and Yan Tingmo couldn’t resist wanting to save the moment.

Qi Xing turned back, his mood instantly souring.

What was this? Was Yan Tingmo trying to seduce him?

Hmph. He wasn’t going to fall for it.

“No,” he replied firmly. “Only my boyfriend can take pictures.”

Yan Tingmo froze, slowly letting go under Qi Xing’s cold gaze. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” Qi Xing said after a pause, then added reluctantly, “If you really want to take one, I suppose it’s not impossible.”

Delighted, Yan Tingmo reached for his phone, but before he could snap a picture, Qi Xing added, “But there’s a price.”

“Huh?” Holding his phone, Yan Tingmo asked softly, “What kind of price?”

Qi Xing hadn’t actually thought that far ahead and just blurted it out. “I’m not sure yet. You owe me one for now, and I’ll let you know when I decide.”

Suddenly regretting it, Yan Tingmo mumbled, “Then I won’t take it…”

“No way,” Qi Xing said coldly. “You have to. Now. Take the picture immediately!”

He’s so fierce, I’m scared!

In his heart, Yan Tingmo thought, I’m being forced into this. He’s way too overbearing. I have no choice!

Grudgingly, he snapped two pictures of Qi Xing in his dress and then ran off with the emotional debt hanging over him.

On December 12th, Yan Tingmo finally finished the illustrations for his latest project.

Saltwater: [Boss, here’s the work.]
Saltwater: [Image]
Saltwater: [Image]
Saltwater: [Image]

Two minutes later, the client, “Love Life,” came online.

Love Life: [Wow, you work so fast!]
Love Life: [And it’s amazing!]
Love Life: [Did you read the novel I sent you?]

Saltwater: [I didn’t. I didn’t. I swear.]

Love Life: [Then how did you get your inspiration?]

That’s crossing the line.

Yan Tingmo was speechless. You pay me; I deliver the work. Why are you asking about my process?

Unfortunately, “Love Life” didn’t seem to get the hint.

Love Life: [Why aren’t you responding?]

Saltwater: [Sorry, I was busy just now.]

Love Life: [So, how did you come up with the inspiration?]

Feeling numb, Yan Tingmo replied: [My roommate taught me.]

That finally shut “Love Life” up.

Five minutes later, though, the client chimed in again: [Stay away from your roommate.]

Mind your own business! Yan Tingmo thought. If you weren’t paying me, I’d have blocked you ages ago.

To prevent more clients like “Love Life,” Yan Tingmo updated his profile.

“Illustrations and character designs only. No commissions without a complete character concept/backstory, explicit works, overly cute characters, or dual-male protagonist requests.”

But “Love Life” wasn’t one to give up.

They left a comment under his post: [Sorry, rejected. Let’s work together again next time.]

Seeing the comment, Yan Tingmo felt a strong urge to reply: Shameless! Pervert!

“Love Life” left another comment: [What, do you think you’re making too much money?]

Not really. I’m just worried prolonged exposure to this will mess with my psyche.

Not wanting to strain the relationship with his cash cow, Yan Tingmo ignored the comments and started replying to other clients instead.

When ignored, “Love Life” resorted to direct messages.

Love Life: [Since we’re so close, let me share a secret.]

Saltwater: [We’re not close. There’s no need.]

Love Life: [We are! I think we are.]

Saltwater: [I might not be able to keep a secret.]

You should know when to stop.

“Love Life,” undeterred, continued: [Actually, I’m commissioning these illustrations for someone I like.]

Saltwater: [How romantic.]

Love Life: [Right? You think so too?]

Love Life: [When we’re together, I’ll use all these poses on him.]

Poor guy, getting liked by you must be a nightmare.

Saltwater: [He must really love you.]

After a brief pause, “Love Life” responded, delighted: [That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.]