After Falling in Love with a 2D Character as a Socially Anxious Person - Chapter 11

The life-or-death urgency of the battlefield was also reflected in Yan Qili’s eating speed—he didn’t have time to spend an hour or two picking over his food like an ordinary noble.

 

An Jing was silent. He finally understood where Yan Qili’s brute strength came from. Yan Qili’s appetite and speed exceeded his expectations, but the point was that even though he ate so fast, his manners weren’t crude. Every movement still showed the grace of a prince.

 

An Jing felt his conscience start to ache again.

 

After the meal, An Jing took it upon himself to clean up, while Yan Qili went to organize the things they bought that afternoon.

 

Ding~

 

The phone screen lit up. An Jing, who was washing dishes, shook the water droplets off his hands and pressed the screen to take a look. It was a message from the property manager. After scanning it, An Jing’s spirit lifted—an “Information Collection” notice?

 

“Information collection?” Yan Qili paused his movement of wiping Bu Po and looked up. “What does that mean?”

 

An Jing had just finished searching online. He chose simple words to explain to Yan Qili: “It means the officials are collecting our personal information.”

 

The property manager said that relevant departments in the district would soon conduct door-to-door or phone checks on homeowners. According to the internet, in stricter areas, they would ask for and register height, age, household registration, education level, occupation, and so on.

 

An Jing looked at the cold “undocumented person” in his house: “…”

 

Even if they could dodge this specific information collection, Yan Qili couldn’t remain undocumented forever. An undocumented person was restricted everywhere in this world. For instance, he couldn’t even buy a bus or plane ticket for a long trip.

 

Thinking ahead, An Jing realized that getting Yan Qili a household registration and an ID card had to be put on the agenda. But Yan Qili had come out of a book; he had no birth certificate, no parental data, and no record of his life for the past twenty-odd years… They couldn’t tell the truth, yet they couldn’t produce a single piece of evidence to prove Yan Qili’s identity.

 

From An Jing’s expression, Yan Qili knew this was a difficult matter.

 

Their eyes met, and An Jing had a sudden flash of inspiration: “How about we say you’re a wild man who lived in the deep forest?” The kind abandoned by parents in the wilderness since childhood who became a feral human. For a wild man, being unable to prove his identity was very reasonable!

 

A wild man? Yan Qili raised an eyebrow.

 

“That’s no good.” Seeing Yan Qili’s half-smiling expression, An Jing felt alarm bells ring in his head. Before the other man could speak, he solemnly rejected his own idea: “You and the term ‘wild man’ don’t fit at all; no one would believe it.”

 

Only he, with his social anxiety, longed for the uninhabited deep forests every day. He wouldn’t mind being a wild man.

 

Yan Qili glanced at him, the curve of his lips carrying a hint of mockery. Just this much courage.

 

An Jing, whose courage was no bigger than a sesame seed, pretended not to understand Yan Qili’s look. Unable to think of a solution for the moment, he gave up and went upstairs to bring down a quilt. He placed the fluffy quilt on the sofa and said to Yan Qili:

 

“The bed won’t arrive until tomorrow. You’ll have to make do on the sofa for tonight.”

 

The sofa wasn’t very wide, but fortunately, it was long enough. Yan Qili could manage for one night. Since the temperature dropped at night, An Jing brought an extra blanket, worried Yan Qili would be cold.

 

It was just for one night; for Yan Qili, it didn’t really matter if he slept or not, so he nodded casually. After confirming he had nothing else to add, An Jing said: “Then I’m going up to sleep?”

 

Yan Qili spared him a glance. “Do you want me to walk you?”

 

“No, no need.” An Jing wouldn’t dare. He waved his hands repeatedly. “You should rest early.”

 

After dropping those words, An Jing turned and ran. Someone not only had courage smaller than a rabbit’s but also slipped away faster than one. Yan Qili let out an unreadable “Tsk.” This person and rabbits were likely from the same ancestor hundreds of years ago.

 

…

 

On the second floor, An Jing didn’t go back to the bedroom to sleep but turned on his study computer. It was only a little after seven in the evening, and going to bed now didn’t fit his routine. Even if he forced himself to sleep, he’d wake up at one or two in the morning.

 

The screen lit up, reflecting its glow on An Jing’s jade-white face. As soon as he logged into QQ, several messages from Baili popped up:

 

[Yanyan, when are you starting your new novel? Your readers are asking under my Weibo posts.]

 

[Your Weibo is practically overgrown with grass. Why don’t you check on your poor readers when you’re free?]

 

[I’m arriving in Nancheng tomorrow. Are you really not considering meeting me?]

 

[crying-while-covering-mouth.jpg]

 

[Hey? You there?]

 

[Open the door, open the door! Don’t hide inside and stay silent, I know you’re home.jpg]

 

After a chaotic day, An Jing hadn’t had time to check his messages. Besides Baili, many others were looking for him. Fortunately, no important matters were delayed.

 

Tomorrow was Thursday, and the event was on Saturday. Baili had bought his plane ticket to Nancheng early, holding onto a sliver of hope that “Yanyan would never be so heartless to me.”

 

An Jing replied to Baili’s messages one by one:

 

[There was a small accident with the new novel; I can’t start it for now.]

 

[I don’t know what to do on Weibo.]

 

[We can meet telepathically? QAQ]

 

[I was a bit busy today; I only have time to check my phone now.]

 

Baili replied instantly: [You finally appeared!]

 

[Weren’t you planning to use a pen name to write a Danmei (BL) novel? Is it not going well since it’s your first time trying this genre?]

 

An Jing had talked to Baili about practicing character emotions at least eight or ten times, so Baili naturally knew his plan. As for using a pen name… for a writer, having two, three, or even eight aliases wasn’t strange.

 

Yannian: [It’s not that…]

 

The ideas for the new novel were very clear, it’s just that his protagonist had run out of the book. Since Yan Qili had left his original world, the novel naturally couldn’t be continued. Unless he came up with a completely new story from scratch.

 

But An Jing didn’t dare to try lightly now. First, he hadn’t thought of a good enough hook yet, and second, he was afraid of another situation like Yan Qili’s. One “Living Yama” was enough to handle; An Jing didn’t dare imagine what would happen if another fictional character crossed over. Just thinking about it made him feel breathless.

 

Changing genres carries risks; challenges require caution.

 

He couldn’t vent these troubles to Baili, so An Jing just said an accident happened and he wasn’t writing the Danmei novel anymore, and would pick a suitable time to serialize his Wuxia story.

 

It was normal to change writing plans temporarily, so Baili didn’t ask further and turned the topic back: [Are you really not going to the event on Saturday?]

 

An Jing’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few seconds. He didn’t want to lie to Baili, so he typed slowly: [There’s a signing for an artist I really like that day. I might go.]

 

Baili: [???]

 

[Is my ‘sword’ not sharp enough anymore, or am I not standing high enough on the promotional poster?]

 

[Domestic flowers can never be as fragrant as wild ones! Speak, who is the little vixen who seduced you?!]

 

Yannian: [I’m just thinking about it, nothing’s certain yet (:з」∠)]

 

Baili: [Tell me! Who is it!!]

 

Yannian: [It’s Wu Yu Zi.]

 

Baili immediately searched for this “little vixen” online. Two minutes later, Baili sent: [Whoa, it’s her. I’ve long heard of her “famous” name. I see she’s drawn a lot of fan art for your novels. She must be your fan, right?]

 

[Are you guys playing a ‘mutual pining’ scene for me?]

 

[Fine. On Saturday, her signing line will be my main focus.]

 

An Jing wasn’t mentally prepared to meet Baili, so he sent a “crying” emoji. Baili knew his boundaries; if An Jing didn’t want to meet, he wouldn’t force it. He was just saying it to tease him. Who told him to be so socially anxious about meeting his friend, yet willing to squeeze into a signing line for an artist he liked?

 

After a bit of small talk, An Jing thought of Yan Qili downstairs and tactfully asked Baili if he knew a legitimate way to get household registration for an undocumented person.

 

Baili: [How undocumented? Human trafficking or lost person?]

 

An Jing thought for a moment and found an easy example: [As undocumented as Sun Wukong.]

 

[Suppose Sun Wukong did a somersault into our world and became undocumented. What channel could be used to get him registered?]

 

[Be practical; it needs to be logical and realistic.]

 

An Jing thought his example was brilliant. Sun Wukong leaped out of a rock, and the “Living Yama” crawled out of a computer.

 

Baili: […]

 

[Yanyan, your ideas are getting weirder lately.]

 

[If that were really possible, every family in the country with the surname ‘Sun’ would offer up their family tree overnight, trying their best to prove Sun Wukong is their long-lost old patriarch.]

 

[If Sun Wukong wanted to, he could be on the first page of the genealogy. Would he still be worried about registration?]

 

An Jing: … It’s my fault.

 

It was his fault for not making Yan Qili more powerful. He couldn’t make all the “Yan” families in the country rush to claim him as kin. He’d take the blame for that, but—! Was there really no foolproof way to get Yan Qili registered?!

 

Thinking until his head felt bald, a discouraged An Jing let out a sigh and slammed his head onto the desk. He didn’t control the force well, and there was a loud Thump.

 

“Ow.” An Jing held his forehead in pain, groaning: “It hurts.” He clutched his reddened forehead, staring at the screen with a resentful gaze.

 

Baili: [Is this for a plot setting or something?]

 

An Jing didn’t dare reveal too much and answered vaguely: [Something like that.]

 

Baili: [If we’re talking about realism, I have a friend who works in a relevant department. He’s a professional in this area and should be able to help quite a bit. Want me to ask for you?]

 

An unexpected surprise! An Jing’s eyes lit up: [Really?]

 

Baili: [I’ll ask for you. In exchange, let’s meet? That’s not too much, is it?]

 

[We’re already so familiar; after a few more meetings, you won’t be afraid of me.]

 

Yannian: […]

 

Baili upped the ante: [The guests are all staying in one hotel. I just checked—your favorite, Wu Yu Zi, is on the same floor as me. Don’t you want a photo with her or a personalized signature?]

 

Yannian: […]

 

A socially anxious person didn’t want a photo, but a personalized signature… such a huge temptation!

 

Baili enticed him: [I know you don’t want to reveal your identity. You can pretend to be my assistant. Besides me, no one will know you’re the famous Teacher Yannian.]

 

Yannian: [Let me think about it…]

 

Baili: [O-kay!]

 

…

 

Downstairs, the darkened living room was silent. Yan Qili sat in the middle of the sofa with his eyes closed, listening to the slight movements from upstairs. Coming to this world hadn’t affected his senses; his hearing was still better than an average person’s.

 

He could hear the sound of An Jing walking, the friction of the chair being dragged, and… the sound of a certain dummy hitting his head and calling out in a soft, powerless voice.

 

Yan Qili: … Stupid.