17. Social Anxiety and Social Butterflies

Both options are gambles, so it’s better to bet on something tangible right in front of you.

First, accept the Inclusion Guide.

A one-time boost of sixty points to the Teacher-Student Index—such temptation was hard to resist.

‘Collect’

‘Ding, Teacher Li An has received one Inclusion Guide.’

The screen flashed and returned to the main interface, where the inventory now held the Inclusion Guide.

Li An felt reassured.

Once he fully understood the fluctuations of the Teacher-Student Index, this item might prove valuable.

For now, aside from Xiao Bei’s steadily rising index, the other three showed no apparent trends.

He turned his gaze to the list of potential students.

As he had suspected, the number was indeed tied to his level.

Beneath Lin Pengfei’s name, a new student source had appeared.

Li Qun (1/100)—Li An had no recollection of this child, though he recognized the cigarette.

Back in his college days, the 13-yuan Li Qun brand was his favorite.

Li An never imagined he’d quit smoking, much less in this manner.

Not smoking—that was perhaps the greatest asset left to him by his predecessor.

Now, it was as if he had never smoked.

Good.

It saved money.

...

Eating instant noodles for lunch every day couldn’t go on forever.

At noon, Li An joined the Sha County Cuisine Yudong Squad, teaming up with Xu Hongxin and Ma Tao to head downstairs for Sha County Cuisine.

Today was July 7th in the Gregorian calendar—a lovely day, with just five days left till payday.

Li An still had 175 yuan for his monthly expenses.

If not for needing to buy cat food for Eighty Thousand, he might have indulged a little.

“Boss, another order of steamed dumplings and a serving of wontons to go—no cilantro in the wontons.”

Ma Tao was astonished. “An Bro, are you still hungry? You’ve already eaten three servings of steamed dumplings by yourself.”

“You two know how to enjoy life every day,” Li An said, pulling out a napkin to wipe his mouth contentedly. “This is for Chen Xuan—she just messaged me to bring some, probably because delivery’s unavailable in this weather.”

The trio left the restaurant, braving the wind and rain to bring Chen Xuan her lunch.

By the time they returned to the office, each of them was soaked in varying degrees.

Li An was the wettest below the waist.

“Eat while it’s hot.”

“Thanks, I’ve sent you the money on WeChat.”

Li An placed the meal on Chen Xuan’s desk and promptly sneezed as he turned away. “This rain...”

Seeing this, Chen Xuan quickly opened her drawer and rummaged around, eventually handing Li An three packets of brown sugar ginger tea.

Li An took them and laughed, “This stuff is good.”

After drinking, the three felt a noticeable warmth throughout their bodies.

Ma Tao returned from the restroom and glanced at Li An’s phone screen, surprised. “An Bro, you have a cat?”

The remark instantly drew the attention of everyone in the office.

“Whoa, An Bro!”

Xu Hongxin reacted most strongly. He was originally opposed to his girlfriend having a cat.

Now, he couldn’t sleep at night without playing with the kitten a bit before bed.

He hurried to ask, “What kind of cat do you have?”

“Orange tabby—” Li An scrolled through the Taobao page. Based on his observations over the past two months, the remaining food at home would only last until next Friday.

Time to buy more.

Missing the 618 sale was his own fault; now the same cat food was over thirty yuan more expensive.

“Is it true orange tabbies eat a lot?” Chen Xuan put down her spoon and looked up.

She’d always envied families with cats and dogs, but her parents wouldn’t allow pets, and the college dorm was inconvenient.

Now her life was stable enough, and she was considering getting one, though she had no idea where to start.

“He eats more than Ma Tao—I can barely afford it.”

Chen Xuan’s gaze toward Li An was full of curiosity. “Do you have any photos? Send them in the group, we had no idea you kept pets.”

Ma Tao, still sulking, chimed in, “Exactly.”

Xu Hongxin had already opened the WeChat group. “Let me show you my Tangyuan first.”

Unable to withstand their enthusiasm, Li An reluctantly selected two photos from his album and sent them.

One showed the cat using the bathroom, the other eating.

“Wow, so cute!”

“You caught the kitten mid-business—what are you doing?”

“He’s definitely chubby.”

“Wait, An Bro, why is your cat litter box a giant basin?”

“A basin is good enough, okay?”

“Hahaha.”

“Is it male or female?”

“Looks like a little female cat.”

“Male. You guys carry on, I’m off to practice piano.”

With Li An’s departure, the office soon quieted down.

The three seemed used to this, each returning to their own tasks.

It wasn’t strange, really. As the only woman in the west-side office, Chen Xuan had always been reserved since arriving.

She rarely initiated conversations or showed any eagerness to join in.

At first, Xu Hongxin called it steadiness, Ma Tao called it aloofness.

But after spending time together, everyone understood Chen Xuan wasn’t pretending. Just now, she’d proactively handed out her “magic” when the three came back drenched and chilled.

Sometimes, during group chats, Chen Xuan could be bright and lively.

Li An said it was a real-life social barrier—once you spent enough time together, it naturally got better.

At 1:55 pm, Xu Hongxin was about to head to class and noticed the rain had stopped.

He pondered for a moment.

“Let’s go have hotpot tonight. Sunday’s discount at Yu Xiang. I’ll sign up, I’m free.”

Ma Tao clapped in approval.

Both looked to Chen Xuan.

“Xuan, if you’re busy, we’ll do it next time.”

Chen Xuan was second oldest in the office, but Xu Hongxin rarely addressed her that way.

Chen Xuan looked troubled. She actually wanted hotpot, but had prior commitments.

Before she could respond, Ma Tao noticed a bigger issue.

“Can An Bro come?”

...

While the west-side office discussed dinner plans, the west-side classroom was anything but idle.

Lin Pengfei was energized, demonstrating on the piano for his students, occasionally throwing out German phrases, anxious that Qin Yong in the corner might not recognize his expertise.

Qin Yong had three impressions after observing the entire lesson—some positives, some areas for improvement.

First, Lin Pengfei’s professional skills were decent.

Second, his interaction with students was lacking.

Third, he was too self-focused and formal.

The whole lesson was Lin Pengfei passionately lecturing, but could the kids really grasp it?

For a child who can’t even coordinate both hands, discussing tonal layers is pointless.

Playing well doesn’t mean teaching well.

Even the best performer isn’t necessarily a good teacher.

This segment was about teaching ability.

3.5?

Qin Yong hesitated, then changed the score to 3.6.

Save.

He put away his phone, feeling somewhat disappointed.

Leaving Lin Pengfei’s lesson for last was intentional. As a fellow Rongcheng native with study experience in Germany, he felt a kinship and admiration for Lin Pengfei.

A German returnee willing to humble himself to work at a training center—he respected that.

But work was work, evaluation was evaluation.

The extra 0.1 was a small reward for courage.

After class, Qin Yong patted Lin Pengfei’s shoulder in encouragement. “Keep it up, do your best.”

The gesture almost triggered Lin Pengfei’s social anxiety again.

Fortunately, facing Qin Yong, he always felt a pressure from someone of higher rank.

“Principal, I understand. I get what you mean.”

Just then, the brilliant Chopin waltz playing in the adjacent room hit a glaringly wrong chord.

Both heard it.

The music stopped, followed by a loud slap—palm against the back of a hand.

“Sloppy!”

They exchanged glances.

——

At five-thirty in the afternoon, Li An left the piano room, rubbing his aching hand.

The muscle memory in the left hand for Op34 no.4 seemed unchangeable, as if the previous owner had practiced it so deeply.

Entering the office—

“An Bro, we’re all getting together tonight!”