A social phobic can also fall in love.

Yan Tingmo had been suffering from a cold for several days without improvement. His nose felt as if it were blocked with cement, and his cough was intermittent, with no end in sight.

After spending a week finishing his manuscript, he, feeling drained, wrapped himself tightly in a blanket and fell into a deep sleep.

However, the sleep was not peaceful. His dreams were bizarre, and his body felt feverish, so hot that he sweated through his clothes. Unable to bear it, he kicked off the blanket, ultimately waking up cold.

Dazed, he opened his eyes and looked toward the air conditioner, wondering which kind-hearted roommate had turned it on for him, the air blowing directly toward him. No wonder he had woken up cold. He reached up to touch his forehead—it was warm. He had a fever again.

As a child, he had been in good health. Even if he caught a slight cold, a bit of medicine would make him better in two days. This was the first time he had fallen seriously ill, with a recurring high fever and a sore throat that led to coughing.

“Creek—”

He Shiyang, carrying takeaway from the cafeteria, arrived first at Yan Tingmo’s bedside. He gently touched his cheek. “Another fever?”

Yan Tingmo, feeling embarrassed, shrank deeper into his blanket, muttering, “Not a fever, just the blanket’s too warm, it’s trapping heat.”

“Heh.” He Shiyang put the takeaway on the desk and poured a cup of water for him. “Get up and drink some water, don’t get dehydrated from the fever.”

Yan Tingmo stubbornly protested, “I don’t have a fever, I don’t need it…”

“Alright, alright, no fever,” He Shiyang said, holding the water cup and threatening, “If you don’t get up, I’ll feed you myself.”

Yan Tingmo was startled and hurriedly sat up, dizzy and unsure whether to take the water or continue protesting that he didn’t have a fever.

“Drink,” He Shiyang handed him the cup. “Afterward, get up and eat something. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Yan Tingmo hated to trouble others. “Really, it’s fine, I’m already feeling better.” He immediately started coughing uncontrollably, as if his lungs would come out.

He Shiyang was nearly done with him. “Forget it. Just eat first. We’ll talk after.”

He had no choice but to sit up, take his seat, and then took out his phone to ask, “How much was it? I’ll transfer the money.”

He Shiyang coldly replied, “Two hundred, go ahead.”

Yan Tingmo froze for a moment. “Two hundred?”

“Yeah.” He Shiyang folded his arms, raising his chin at him. “Stir-fried potatoes with green peppers, ten yuan. Sweet and sour pork ribs, fifteen yuan. Rice, two yuan. Roommate care fee, seventy-three yuan. Transfer it.”

Yan Tingmo was silent for a moment, asking, “Why is the roommate care fee more expensive than the meal?”

He Shiyang sneered, “Because I’m shameless.”

Yan Tingmo had nothing to say, and quietly transferred the money to him, then comfortably finished the meal that he had just paid a high price for.

“Finished?” He Shiyang asked. “Let’s go.”

Yan Tingmo blinked. “Go where?”

He replied, as if it were obvious, “To the hospital. Where else?”

Yan Tingmo didn’t want to go. “My cold is already better, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“No.” He Shiyang immediately pulled him. “You’ve already paid the money, you can’t back out.”

Yan Tingmo was confused. What money did he pay? When he was sitting in a hospital chair, and a nurse came to draw his blood, he finally realized that He Shiyang had treated the two hundred yuan as a fee for the checkup.

The nurse took his blood, measured his blood pressure, and thirty minutes later, the result came back: bronchial pneumonia. He needed to be hospitalized and undergo nebulization therapy.

He was reluctant, but He Shiyang shrugged. “Alright, then don’t get treated. It’s only two hundred yuan, waste it if you want.”

“Ah?” Yan Tingmo hesitated. “But that’s my money…”

“Is it?” He Shiyang looked regretful. “What a shame.”

He had no choice but to lie down on the bed the nurse arranged for him, anxiously watching as the nurse prepared to give him an injection.

“Don’t be afraid, it won’t hurt,” the nurse smiled and reassured him, before swiftly and accurately inserting the needle into his vein.

“Ah~” he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his hand and couldn’t help but cry out. Afterward, he felt embarrassed and buried his face into the pillow, too ashamed to make a sound.

“Come on, it’s not a big deal,” He Shiyang said helplessly. “Nobody’s laughing at you here.”

Yan Tingmo kept his position, not moving.

The nurse, amused by the scene, turned to He Shiyang to give him a few instructions before leaving with the treatment tray.

Because Yan Tingmo wasn’t cooperating, covering himself with the blanket and not speaking or looking at him, He Shiyang had no choice but to take out his phone, playing games while keeping an eye on the medication.

Recently, Qi Xing had been indulging himself. To avoid thinking about Yan Tingmo, he filled his schedule as much as possible. Besides attending classes, he played basketball with his friends, and if he didn’t feel like staying in his dormitory at night, he would go to the newly opened “Coffee House” near the school gates to work part-time.

The “Coffee House” was an anime-themed cafe where the owner enjoyed Cosplaying as anime characters, requiring the employees to also dress as their favorite characters.

He didn’t have a particular anime character he liked, but he still came here to kill time. Looking around at the diverse and colorful cosplay characters in the cafe, he still couldn’t decide.

“What’s up? Haven’t picked yet?” the owner, Jiang Xuan, dressed in a long cyan robe, waved a fan at him.

Qi Xing furrowed his brows, confused. “Do I have to wear one?”

“Yes,” Jiang Xuan replied with a humph. “I’m paying you such a high salary; it’s not for nothing.”

Qi Xing nonchalantly said, “Oh, then I’m not doing it.”

“Hey, wait!” He immediately changed his tone. “You can wear whatever you like, as long as you’re happy.”

Qi Xing sighed heavily, wondering why he didn’t just stay in his dorm to sleep, but instead was here, playing dress-up.

If he hadn’t heard that the salary was three times the usual, he would never have come.

Of course, he would never admit he came for the salary.

Don’t ask, just say he loves hard work and life.

“I’ll go with Luffy,” he said, reluctantly changing into the outfit, still negotiating with the boss. “But I’m only working for two hours a day, no more.”

Jiang Xuan smiled broadly. “Fine, fine, whatever you want.”

Qi Xing scowled as he changed, wearing the straw hat, and professional makeup was applied to him.

“Wait, wait!” He stepped back. “What is this?”

The makeup artist blinked her eyes and sweetly said, “Makeup.”

Qi Xing couldn’t stand the tone of her voice. “Speak properly, don’t talk like that.”

The makeup artist rolled her eyes and repeated in disbelief, “Makeup. Because it’s cosplay, you have to match the outfit and appearance exactly.”

Qi Xing didn’t fully understand but respected it.

The “Coffee House” was cozy, with mostly students from A University coming in. The work was simple—taking orders, making drinks, coffee, and such.

This was Qi Xing’s first time working in food service. The boss, worried he might feel shy or awkward, assigned him to make coffee behind the bar and occasionally help take orders.

Soon, news that he was cosplaying as Luffy spread quickly on the A University forum.

Due to his popularity, the business boomed during his shifts. Sometimes, even with the boss helping out, it was hard to keep up with the crowd.

He actually found it quite annoying. Although the pay was good, the constant flow of customers made him feel drained, and he wanted to curse.

After finishing one cup of coffee, the next order was another one, and his hands started to ache from making so many.

Realistically, everyone wanted to get paid more for doing less work, and nobody liked doing the work of three people for just one salary.

“Boss, I’ll have a Pampas Blue Cheese Jasmine Latte.”

“I’ll take a Fresh Coconut Latte.”

“I’ll go with an Oat Latte.”

Qi Xing’s face remained cold as he ground coffee beans and brewed the drinks.

Drinking coffee late at night, not worried about losing sleep, he muttered to himself with resentment.

“Hey, have you seen the forum? It looks like Yan Tingmo is in trouble again,” a girl with long hair casually mentioned to her friend after placing her order.

Her friend gasped, “What happened?”

The girl snorted. “I heard he got beaten up, and he’s been in the hospital getting an IV drip these past couple of days.”

“Really?” The friend covered her mouth. “You can’t just curse someone like that just because you dislike them.”

The girl angrily retorted, “I don’t dislike him! There are pictures of him getting an injection on the forum. Don’t believe me? You can see for yourself!”

She zoomed in on an anonymous post with the photo of Yan Tingmo getting an injection in the hospital, showing off with a smug expression. “See? I wasn’t lying!”

Her friend still didn’t believe it. “The picture’s so blurry, who knows if it’s…”

“The coffee’s ready,” Qi Xing suddenly interrupted coldly. “Do you want it to go or for here?”

The girl was startled by his tone and snapped back, “What’s your attitude? Do you want me to report you?”

He slightly nodded. “Go ahead.”

The girl paused, wanting to argue some more, but her friend half-pulled her away.

As they left, the girl continued complaining, “What’s with him? Acting like he’s a celebrity, with such a low personality. Anyone who likes him is out of luck.”

Her friend quietly advised her, “Stop it. You’re not a princess, and no one is going to put up with your attitude.”

Qi Xing expressionlessly watched them leave. When the crowd thinned a little, he made an excuse to go to the restroom, closed the door, and pulled out his phone to log onto the forum and search for posts about Yan Tingmo.

Half an hour ago, someone had anonymously posted a blurry image of him lying sideways in the hospital getting an IV drip. He opened the post, zoomed in, and carefully looked at it, his heart twisting in pain.

He didn’t believe the absurd story about Yan Tingmo being beaten up and sent to the hospital. He was so well-behaved, how could he have gotten into trouble?

But in the photo, he looked pale, curled up in the blankets, one hand resting on the bed, the cold IV fluid slowly entering his body through the drip.

He felt deeply saddened.

He wasn’t there for Yan Tingmo, and Yan Tingmo wouldn’t take care of himself.