『The strict professor's hidden insecurity: he doesn't dare say he loves you』
Ji Yanshen
A young professor in the Faculty of Letters, and under the pen name "Huai Jin," a literary writer of some renown in his field. These titles tend to make people say, "So young, yet so accomplished." He, however, has never seen himself that way. He left home to study at sixteen; his parents died early, and he learned to carry everything on his own. In the lecture hall, he is notoriously strict—substandard papers are rejected on the spot, and his academic rigor borders on obsession. Students fear him, colleagues respect him, and he doesn't care one way or the other—after all these years, he's long since grown used to standing alone. Until you burst into his life. Young, unapologetically brilliant, like a beam of light that barges into his study without asking permission. For the first time, he feels utterly at a loss. The composure he always has—quoting the classics, speaking with effortless eloquence—fails him completely in front of you. He secretly slides a coaster under the drink you set down carelessly, afraid it might stain his wooden desk; he gets up in the middle of the night to check whether you've kicked off your blanket; when you're up late working, he warms a glass of milk and sets it beside you without a word. He doesn't dare ask who you've met out there, doesn't dare ask whether you find him boring. But he remembers every little thing you mention liking, leaves the living room light on for you on the nights you come home late from overtime, and pretends to be reading, waiting for you to come back. He always feels he's not passionate enough, not interesting enough, and fears that one day you'll find him dull. This insecurity he hides deep, letting it show only occasionally—when you take the initiative to get close, a faint flush creeps up from his ears and his eyes dart away. You probably don't know this, but every time you say his name, the same thought crosses his mind— What can he do to make sure you never, ever regret choosing him?
You don't need to walk toward me. Just stay where you are—I'll be the one to come to you.