Social Phobia
So hot.
His body felt light, as if he were floating in midair, being pushed backward by an invisible force…
Warm, fuzzy, almost comfortable. Had he… ascended into the heavens?
Mm—
No, no—wait a second.
It was the explosion in the laboratory that blew him away!
Su Zesui’s eyes snapped open. He yanked the blanket off his face in a flash.
His first instinct was to look toward the towering instrument next to him—to check if his thesis project had survived.
“Young master is finally awake.”
Whoosh—as soon as the words were out, the boy on the bed immediately pulled the blanket back over his head with lightning speed. Then he froze, completely still, as if that moment of waking had been nothing but their imagination.
The nurse: “…”
…What is going on?
Under the thin blanket, Su Zesui’s palms were sweating. His long lashes fluttered in a panic as his brain kicked into overdrive, trying to make sense of the limited clues.
He had lost both parents at a young age and had grown up relying solely on his older brother. Back in elementary school, every essay started with, “I remember one night when my brother carried me, burning with fever, through a storm to get to the hospital…”
But later, his brother had died of cancer far too young. And from then on, Su Zesui had been the only one left in the world.
But! Those people had just called him “young master”!
There were two possible explanations—
One: he was the long-lost son of some wealthy family who had just been found.
Two: he had… transmigrated into a novel!
Su Zesui took a shallow breath and tried to recall the plots of any books he’d read recently—
“A Hilbert space is a complete inner product space capable of containing infinitely dimensional wave functions and other quantum states…”
No, no—not this one.
Next—
“f = PMf + (f – PM)
… = ∫ψ(x)??(x)dx”…
Su Zesui squeezed his eyes shut. Total darkness.
If he weren’t still pretending to be unconscious, he would’ve knocked himself on the head.
What is my brain even filled with?!
“He’s awake? Alright, you all can go. I’ll take it from here.”
Just as Su Zesui was about to mentally break down from the effort of remembering, a new voice echoed in the hospital room.
Low and deep, seasoned with age—must be a man in his forties or fifties.
Judging by the sound of footsteps, he was approaching.
Su Zesui opened his eyes, staring blankly at the glow filtering through the white blanket. At this point, he wished it were a lab tarp from the explosion covering his corpse instead of a hospital sheet. At least then he wouldn’t have to face questions from strangers in an unfamiliar place.
…Yes, he suffered from severe social anxiety.
The kind that made him break out in cold sweat at the mere sight of strangers, stumble over his words trying to talk, and left him barely able to function in regular class settings. A textbook case of crippling social phobia.
To him, the sound of unfamiliar footsteps approaching was like the scrape of a grim reaper’s scythe across the floor—grating, terrifying, almost unbearable to hear.
The next moment, the “grim reaper” lifted the blanket from his face: “Not too hot in there? Scared now that you’ve caused trouble?”
The instant daylight hit him again, Su Zesui panicked, scrambling to yank the blanket back up in a tangle of limbs. He curled up under it, sitting upright on the bed like a trembling, round little rice dumpling wrapped in white.
Father Su and Mother Su: “?”
The psychiatrist who had followed them in quickly stepped forward: “He hit his head during the crash. A sudden change in personality is very possible.”
Looking at the lump under the blanket that was still shaking for all it was worth, Mother Su’s mouth twitched.
Before the accident, their youngest son had been a little tyrant—hostile, volatile, drinking, fighting, bullying classmates, constantly causing trouble. Even when he was clearly in the wrong, he’d yell at the world, smash things in anger, all while shouting things like “I’m the fcking king of this world!”
Never, not once, had he quietly stayed in bed like this. One could almost call it… well-behaved.
“Of course, there’s another possibility for this change—psychological trauma,” the doctor added. “He might be subconsciously avoiding confrontation out of fear of being scolded for the trouble he caused. As parents, what he needs now is more encouragement and care.”
Father Su and Mother Su paused for a second, then nodded solemnly.
In the business and political world, they were respected figures with real authority. But precisely because of their busy careers, they had long neglected their youngest son’s emotional needs.
Yesterday had been Su Zesui’s 18th birthday, but they had barely made it home that night in time to celebrate with him.
Of course, before they could arrive with the birthday cake, they got the news—Su Zesui had been racing at the club, flipped the car, and was rushed to the hospital.
After reviewing his condition, the doctor stood up and said, “Since he’s awake now, let’s go to the office to write up a new prescription and get the medication.”
Father Su and Mother Su hurriedly agreed and followed the doctor out of the room.
The three of them had just stepped into the corridor when a white blur rushed past them with rapid thuds, kicking up a gust of wind. All three turned their heads in unison—
A white bundle was bolting down the hallway like its life depended on it. The pale, slender legs sticking out from the blanket moved lightning fast, practically glowing under the lights.
“Suisui!” Mother Su was the first to react. “Wait!”
Su Zesui flinched at the sound of her voice—and ran even faster.
He couldn’t bear to stay in the hospital, and even more so, he couldn’t bear to face his family. He didn’t know what to say.
He just wanted to run—run far away, somewhere no one could find him.
But fate had other plans. After only a few steps, a tall man walking toward him yanked the “dignity blanket” right off him.
In a flash, the bright corridor of the hospital came into full view. A few doctors in white coats passed by, and the sharp scent of disinfectant hit Su Zesui’s nose.
All things he usually feared—but at that moment, he froze in place, standing there in a daze.
“What are you doing running around barefoot?” Su Mingyu frowned.
Su Zesui’s wide, beautiful eyes stared up at him. His soft lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came out—his mind had gone completely blank.
His brother was standing in front of him—alive, healthy. Not gaunt and lifeless. Not lying pale on a hospital bed.
A living, breathing person—not a cold, framed photo.
“Go back and put on your shoes,” Su Mingyu said, jerking his chin toward the hospital room. “Now.”
There was a seven-year age gap between the brothers, and they hadn’t spent much time together over the years. But Su Mingyu knew his brother’s temper—unruly, reckless, and completely lacking in respect. Push him too far, and he might even raise a hand against his own older brother.
Seeing Su Zesui about to bolt again, Su Mingyu flexed his fingers in annoyance, ready to get physical if necessary. If words wouldn’t work, he wouldn’t mind dragging the kid back himself.
But the next second, a soft body crashed into his arms.
“Brother…” came a voice, sweet and clear, trembling on the edge of tears. It was soft, obedient, and full of heartbreak, like he’d been wronged by the whole world.
No one could’ve heard that and stayed unmoved.
Su Mingyu was stunned for a moment. His hand, which was about to grab his brother, froze mid-air as he instinctively looked over at their parents nearby.
Usually, Su Zesui calling him by his full name was already considered a good day. Most of the time, he would grit his teeth and avoid him altogether. But now… what was going on? Had he taken the wrong medicine?
When he saw their parents awkwardly gesture towards their heads, Su Mingyu immediately understood.
It wasn’t the wrong medicine—it was a head injury.
Since their parents, who had always spoiled the youngest son, didn’t seem too alarmed, it probably wasn’t anything serious.
Su Zesui pulled the blanket from his hand and wrapped it back around himself.
Most people would drape a blanket over their shoulders, leaving their fuzzy heads exposed. But he was different—he liked to cover his entire head with the blanket, leaving only his little legs sticking out.
Feeling his brother tugging at the blanket, Su Mingyu thought for a moment that he was up to something again. But when he met those clear, bright, and slightly wet eyes, he instantly fell silent.
After wrapping himself tightly, Su Zesui stretched out his arms again, wanting another hug from his brother.
He loved hugs—they made him feel safe.
Su Mingyu frowned, just about to say, “Don’t be so clingy, walk by yourself,” when their mother interrupted, “He’s barefoot on the cold floor. Pick him up.”
Su Mingyu: “…”
With a cold face, he carried his brother back to put his shoes on, but still couldn’t resist grumbling, “Just became an adult and you already dare to race cars? Now you’ve ended up in the hospital. Have you learned your lesson yet?”
Su Zesui rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder and didn’t reply.
Since he had somehow gotten his brother back, he had already accepted the whole transmigration thing. If he had to take the blame, so be it.
“In a few days, I’ll take you to the club to cancel your ID. From now on, no more extreme sports,” Su Mingyu said sternly.
Su Zesui scrunched up his face. “No…”
He didn’t want to go to crowded places.
“You’re going whether you like it or not,” Su Mingyu threatened with a blank expression, “If you dare to mess around at the club again, I’ll make you read a self-criticism in front of the entire school during the Monday flag-raising ceremony. The title will be: The Fearless Racer Who Refused to Back Down, Cried After Crashing.”
Teenagers his brother’s age cared a lot about saving face.
Sure enough, the moment he finished speaking, Su Zesui struggled twice in his arms and almost burst into tears, “No, please, no…”
Su Mingyu hadn’t expected his head-injured brother to be this easy to scare.
He found it a little amusing, but since the opportunity was here, of course, he had to push the lesson further: “Why not? I’ll even record your public confession and post it online, so everyone can see what happens when you act recklessly and disregard your own life.”
Su Zesui’s vision went dark.
With his brother’s words echoing in his mind, he could almost feel himself standing beneath the flagpole, facing the stares of the entire school and the judgment of netizens, reading out his self-criticism word by word. It was as if pins were pricking his back, a fishbone was stuck in his throat, and he was sitting on a bed of needles…
Transmigrating was already an exhausting ordeal. After experiencing a rollercoaster of grief and joy, then getting startled by Su Mingyu, Su Zesui felt everything go black—and never light up again. His brain short-circuited.
Su Mingyu felt a sudden weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw his younger brother had closed his eyes again.
“Didn’t he just wake up? He’s already passed out again?” He had only just reached the door of the hospital room.
With his brother’s head lolling to the side, fast asleep without a care in the world, Su Mingyu had no choice but to help him put on his shoes and gather his things.
“What did the doctor say?” he asked softly, turning to the parents behind him.
“The club had good safety measures in place. There’s nothing wrong with him physically,” said Mother Su. “But the incident left psychological trauma. His temperament and memory have changed somewhat. With rest, he’ll recover in time.”
Su Mingyu frowned.
When his brother was little, he used to cling to him all the time and constantly asked to be carried—just like now, after the trauma. Su Mingyu suspected there had been some temporary memory loss or confusion during the time in between.
“The doctor said he can be discharged now. Suisui hates the smell of disinfectant in hospitals. Carry him. Let’s go home,” Mother Su added. “Your father and I have taken a few days off to stay home with him.”
Su Mingyu tried to pull the blanket off his brother, but the kid was holding onto it tightly. Left with no other choice, he picked him up along with the blanket.
As he adjusted the boy in his arms, he said, “Our family had a marriage arrangement with the Gu family years ago. Now that Suisui is legally an adult, and it just so happens the Gu family’s heir is also here at Ruikang Hospital today, I went ahead and arranged a meeting. The only time he’s free is this weekend, so let’s have them meet then.”
Mother Su frowned. “That was just a verbal promise from years ago. I wouldn’t mind if it were someone else, but I’ve heard the Gu boy has a strange temperament—violent, even bloodthirsty. His house is filled with surveillance cameras. You don’t even need to think about it to know he’s not a good match for Zesui.”
“Whether or not he’s a good match should be up to Su Zesui to decide. He’s grown up now. Some things he has to face on his own. You’ve protected him too much, and that’s why he’s become so reckless and willful. It’s time he saw how harsh the real world can be.”
Logically, Mother Su knew her eldest son was right.
She watched in silence as the elevator descended to the first floor. After a long moment, she finally spoke. “He’s in the hospital too?”
Su Mingyu knew exactly who she meant. “Got hurt in an accident, apparently.”
“An accident? Is he even in a proper line of work?” she asked with a deep frown, clearly dissatisfied with her younger son’s potential match. “From my years of reading people, someone like him—covered in hostility and resentment, with not a shred of righteousness—would do anything, no matter how bloody, to get what he wants. He was probably injured because someone retaliated.”
“Suisui may be mischievous, but he’s a kind-hearted boy. Letting him meet someone that sinister… I really can’t bear it.”
The voices of the Su family gradually faded into the distance.
At the corner of the corridor, a tall man with a straight back stood quietly in the shadowed area, away from the sunlight streaming through the window. He casually tossed the used bandages in his hand into a nearby trash can.
Though not far away, he had heard every word clearly.
If it had been an ordinary person being criticized like that, they’d probably feel awkward and furious. If it had been a shameless lunatic, maybe they’d laugh and clap, saying, “How interesting.”
But the man’s reaction was neither. He kept his eyes lowered, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever—like none of it mattered to him in the slightest.
“Young Master Gu, y-you redid your bandages?!” the butler came rushing down from the elevator at the end of the hallway, his eyes landing immediately on the bloodied bandages in the trash can.
The man calmly put away his phone after taking some photos and replied, “The wound reopened.”
Then he added, “Don’t tell them.”
The butler nodded hastily. He wouldn’t dare pass on that message.
Noticing the man’s clear disdain for the topic, the butler quickly changed the subject. “Young Master Gu, I secretly followed that eldest brother Su upstairs earlier. It took me a while, but I managed to find out the younger brother’s condition and the cause of the accident.”
Wanting to cheer the man up a little, the butler deliberately acted mysterious and said, “But first, let’s talk about what he looks like…”
“Wait,” the man interrupted.
The butler, who always obeyed him without question, immediately fell silent, waiting for further instructions.
The Su family’s youngest son was stunningly good-looking—long, thick lashes, almost like a mixed-race child—and had even been engaged to the man since childhood. The butler assumed the man wanted to ask more about those details.
But then he heard him say, “I don’t want to know.”
The butler: “?”
“I’m not interested in a silkworm cocoon.”
When he came down from the north elevator earlier, the Su family had briefly appeared in his line of sight at the other end of the hallway. Wrapped tightly in a snow-white blanket, not even a strand of hair showing, the person in someone’s arms stood out immediately.
They were being carried around like that—completely swaddled. Clearly, someone had spoiled them rotten.
He had no interest in such delicate flowers raised in greenhouses. Let alone listening to the butler’s descriptions—he wouldn’t even bother lifting his eyelids to glance at a photo. Total waste of time.
The man’s bluntness saved his own time, but left the poor butler utterly confused: “???”
W-What silkworm cocoon? Where did the cocoon even come from?
I was laughing so loud my mother came to my room concerned ╥﹏╥