After Falling in Love with a 2D Character as a Socially Anxious Person - Chapter 24

An Jing and Yan Qili were both disconnected from the online world—one was buried in his thesis, and the other didn’t use the internet at all. No matter how much of a stir things caused online, it didn’t affect them.

After being alerted by Jiang Chen, An Jing saw that the video, which was less than two minutes long, had already surpassed a million views.

Ignoring Baili’s “love brother” nickname for now, An Jing called Yan Qili over and handed him the tablet. Yan Qili’s eyes swept across the screen, and his brow instantly furrowed.

When was this…?

An Jing watched his expression. “It was filmed from a long distance.” With today’s high technology, even if Yan Qili’s five senses were sharp, someone could still successfully film him in secret without a sound.

Yan Qili’s face was grim. “What is the purpose of doing this?”

“Uh…” An Jing hesitated. He didn’t know how to explain to Yan Qili the behavior of some people who secretly film attractive strangers to post online. He didn’t really understand it himself, either.

An Jing tried to give an objective analysis: “Some seek validation, some think it’s fun, and some do it for the traffic.” Looking at the nature of the poster’s account, An Jing leaned toward it being a move to grab attention and earn traffic.

Yan Qili looked upset. Fearing he would get angry, An Jing comforted him: “It’s not all bad.” Nowadays, netizens are incredibly resourceful and can dig up any information. If the video goes viral and spreads widely, maybe someone will actually recognize Yan Qili. To be precise, recognize Yan Qili’s identity in this world.

As he spoke, An Jing opened the comment section in front of Yan Qili:

— Hubby is so handsome, I love him!

— What kind of decent man wears pants while wielding a sword?

— If I call you hubby, do you dare to answer?

— Seeing this face, I know my 99th first love has arrived.

— Those killer legs, those muscles… [heart eyes] [heart eyes]

— I really don’t get you people, calling a stranger hubby so casually. It’s so disrespectful, right hubby?

— The only flaw in this video is that the lead is wearing too much.

— The weather is getting hot. Next time I want to see him shirtless, the kind bursting with male hormones!

— Hubby, stop playing with the sword, play with me instead, waaaah.

— One sword strike right to my heart.

— You “little fresh meat” idols in the industry, come learn from this guy. Look at that power, that “alpha” waist, tsk tsk tsk.

— …

In the massive comment section, the top comments were all thirsty jokes; there wasn’t a single serious one. An Jing opened it in front of Yan Qili, then hurriedly closed it with shaking hands.

This is a comment section, not a lawless wasteland, hey! The screen full of “hubby” and spicy talk nearly knocked the wind out of An Jing.

Yan Qili’s motion-capture ability was better than An Jing’s. Even though An Jing was fast, the man had scanned most of those comments.

Yan Qili: “…” The Living Yama’s face was as dark as still water, clearly offended by those remarks.

Seeing Yan Qili looking like a god of slaughter who might grab someone to pummel at any second, An Jing cautiously moved to the side. He reported the video: “It’s fine, I can report it to have the video taken down.”

There were many reasons to choose from. An Jing first chose “violation of privacy and portrait rights.” A prompt popped up on the screen—Please provide evidence. To prevent malicious reporting, the party involved needed to provide proof personally. Only after confirming the infringement would the officials delete the video.

In other words, Yan Qili needed to prove he was the person filmed by uploading a photo and both sides of his ID card.

An Jing: “…” Yan Qili didn’t even have an ID card; the infringement route wouldn’t work.

Just as An Jing was about to pick another reason, the system suddenly notified him that the video no longer existed.

An Jing: “?”

The secretly filmed video had been taken down. Not only was it removed from the original short-video platform, but any re-uploads on other platforms also displayed messages saying the video didn’t exist or had been removed for violations. Like a hurricane passing through, the video that had made countless netizens weak in the knees left no trace on the internet.

Netizens began asking in the comments of Wan Tongye’s other works: What happened? Where is my new internet hubby?

Wan Tongye didn’t come out to answer because, minutes after the video was taken down, her account with a million followers was banned and deleted by the officials. Some netizens who had saved the video beforehand tried to re-upload it, but it couldn’t even pass the platform’s review.

While the netizens were baffled, An Jing and Yan Qili stared at each other outside the screen. What was the situation?

In the neighborhood, some cat had entered heat, its cries becoming increasingly lingering and shrill. Dark clouds gathered in the sky, brewing the late-night heavy rain mentioned in the weather forecast. An Jing and Yan Qili sat opposite each other, analyzing the current state of affairs.

“Someone definitely recognized you,” An Jing said, thinking of only one possibility. “It seems your identity in the modern world isn’t ordinary, either.”

Blocking a video so completely in such a short time wasn’t something money alone could achieve. It required connections. At least with An Jing’s resources, it was impossible. Even if he had money, he wouldn’t know who to talk to.

Yan Qili leaned toward this guess as well. “The other party should find this place very soon.”

An Jing felt uneasy and instinctively asked, “So what do we do now?” The video uploader hadn’t included a location, but based on the landmarks in the video, it would be easy to figure out their neighborhood.

Yan Qili’s gaze shifted toward his sword, Unbroken.

“No!” An Jing made a big “X” with his hands in front of his chest, telling Yan Qili to immediately drop that terrible thought. Violence solves nothing!

“…” Seeing this, Yan Qili gave a frustrated “Tsk.” Since coming to this world, his actions had been hindered at every turn, and now he was in a dilemma. There was still too much he didn’t understand about this world, leaving him unable to do anything. It was maddening. Just practicing his sword could lead to all this. Are people nowadays really this bored all day?

“Ding-dong~”

“Ding-dong~”

An incessant ringing started. Judging by the frequency, the person at the door was very urgent. An Jing froze and blinked at Yan Qili. “Did you order food?”

The Living Yama, who hadn’t yet learned the skill of ordering takeout: “…No.”

Since it wasn’t takeout, a delivery, or the property management, An Jing told Yan Qili to open the door. Yan Qili wasn’t socially anxious, nor was he afraid of any blind thugs outside. With a grumpy face, he strode over to open the door.

The socially anxious one clutched a throw pillow, listening to the commotion outside.

“Yan Qili! You really are here!” A frustrated female voice rang out.

An Jing perked up. Looking for Yan Qili? He couldn’t sit still and slowly shuffled toward the entryway.

The person at the door was a woman who looked somewhat older. The “pigeon egg” diamond on her finger and her earrings nearly blinded An Jing. In that moment, a phrase popped into An Jing’s mind—overwhelmingly wealthy.

Behind the woman was a young man who looked like an assistant. Both were strangers; An Jing was sure he didn’t know them. Facing Yan Qili’s highly aggressive face, the woman wasn’t afraid at all, her volume remaining high:

“You’ve really grown some nerves. It’s one thing to skip the blind dates I arranged, but then you play missing. If you’re so great, why don’t you just fly to heaven…”

An Jing: “???” Blind dates? What blind dates?

The woman, exquisite from her hair to her toes, stood with her hands on her hips in high heels, giving Yan Qili a fierce scolding. Yan Qili’s back was to An Jing, so he couldn’t see his expression, but An Jing’s temples were throbbing. He was terrified that Yan Qili would strike this loud-mouthed woman at any second.

To prevent Yan Qili from ending up at the police station again and having to trouble Yuzhou Mengto bail him out, An Jing tossed aside his pillow and rushed over to save the situation. He didn’t have time to think about how she knew Yan Qili’s name; his mind was filled with one thought—Stay calm!

An Jing popped out from behind Yan Qili, eyeing the man’s expression while speaking to the woman who was talking like a machine gun: “H-hello, may I ask—”

Yan Qili didn’t speak, but his expression looking at the woman was very strange. An Jing couldn’t quite describe how it was strange without a closer look.

Before An Jing could finish his stuttered sentence, the woman—who had been a fire-breathing dragon toward Yan Qili—visibly froze upon seeing him. Then, her expression shifted. Her eyes flickered between the two of them before she raised a hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and smiled softly:

“And you are…?”

The irritable fire-dragon had turned into a gentle antelope. The transformation was so fast it lacked a transition, causing her expression to look slightly distorted for a split second.

The woman smiled at An Jing with elegant politeness, as if the previous outburst had been his hallucination. The contrast was so great that An Jing stood frozen, but then she dropped another bombshell:

“Are you Qili’s friend? Has my son been living with you all this time?”

“What is your relationship? No wonder he refused those blind dates no matter what—it turns out he already has someone!”

“This brat hid you so well. You look so sweet, hahaha. What’s your name?”

Son??

SON!!!

An Jing’s tea-colored pupils widened. He looked at the noble lady claiming to be Yan Qili’s mother in total disbelief. He instinctively turned to look at Yan Qili, only to see the latter staring at the woman with a heavy gaze—and upon closer inspection, his dark blue eyes were also filled with shock and bewilderment.

Yan Qili’s eyes held every emotion except the expected anger or mockery.

An Jing: “…???”

In his daze, An Jing finally noticed the noble lady’s features, especially those eyes. Dark blue… they were carved from the same mold as Yan Qili’s.

Minutes later, An Jing’s home had a guest. An Jing shrank to the side, cautiously peeking at the lady and Yan Qili.

According to her introduction, her name was Bai Sumuo, she was from an ethnic minority, and she was Yan Qili’s mother. She also had a Han name: Shen Jun. To be exact, Shen Jun was Yan Qili’s mother in modern society.

An Jing was skeptical, but when he brushed past Yan Qili to pour water, the man shared a world-shaking piece of information—Bai Sumuo looked exactly like Yan Qili’s deceased mother, the Imperial Concubine.

Not just the looks, but even the name was the same. This was why Yan Qili had frozen in place earlier, letting the woman scold him. Seeing a woman who looked identical to the mother who had been gone for years, even the storm-weathered Yan Qili couldn’t react immediately under the shock.

Yan Qili had been missing for several days, and Shen Jun had rushed over after seeing the video online. The young man with her was her secretary. Shen Jun had come for Yan Qili, but now she was clearly more interested in An Jing.

Shen Jun’s eyes sparkled as she looked at An Jing: “An Jing, honey, how old are you this year? You’re over eighteen, right? How did you meet my Qili?”

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