After Falling in Love with a 2D Character as a Socially Anxious Person - Chapter 26

The arrival of Shen Jun made Yan Qili’s identity in this world clearer, yet many things remained unexplained.

For instance, before Yan Qili crossed over from the book, did another “Yan Qili” actually exist in the real world?

If so, where did that other Yan Qili go?

To the world inside the book?

An Jing couldn’t figure it out, and Yan Qili didn’t make any reckless moves. Even after meeting Shen Jun, Yan Qili didn’t let it go to his head or lose his caution.

Monday arrived with a clear sky and light, breezy clouds drifting through the blue.

The beautiful weather did nothing to soothe An Jing’s terrible mood. Every step of the way from his house to school was against his will. Weather this nice was meant for brewing tea, reading books, and soaking up the sun at home—or at the very least, practicing some calligraphy.

Instead, he had to go to school for his mid-term thesis defense. In An Jing’s mind, a tiny version of himself was already growing gloomy, poisonous mushrooms on its head. Some people might be walking down the street, but their hearts have actually been dead for quite a while.

The university group chat was pinging constantly. Everyone was discussing the upcoming defense, with messages scrolling past at lightning speed. They debated which advisors were difficult and which ones were easy-going. An Jing didn’t see any useful information; he just felt anxious and tense.

…

Back in the familiar campus and the familiar environment, An Jing stepped into the classroom right on time.

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but the moment he entered, the lively classroom suddenly fell silent.

“!”

An Jing felt the entire class turn to look at him.

Why did you all stop talking? Why are you looking at me?

Under the weight of their gazes, An Jing kept his head down, gripped the straps of his black backpack tightly, and walked toward the only empty seat left. He was so nervous he almost forgot whether to lead with his left foot or his right.

There were thirty-five people in An Jing’s class, including Li Sheng. Having been out on an internship for nearly a year, Li Sheng’s style of dress had changed, giving him the air of a “successful professional.”

The guy next to Li Sheng was named Ren Mingliang. He pulled his gaze away from An Jing and asked doubtfully, “Are you sure that’s the same An Jing you were talking about? He looks exactly the same as before to me.”

He still had that same timid look, never daring to look anyone in the eye. He looked ordinary, and his clothes were ordinary—nothing about him looked like someone who had hooked up with a rich person.

Li Sheng gave a mocking laugh. “That’s exactly where he’s clever.”

Last time at the police station, Li Sheng had left early to avoid trouble. Afterward, he asked Jiayang Shan about the situation. Jiayang Shan said that even though An Jing’s side had started the fight, nothing happened to them in the end. They only got a verbal warning. He heard a “big shot” had stepped in to settle everything.

Ren Mingliang didn’t take it to heart and continued to flatter Li Sheng. “In a couple of years, you’ll be a big shot too, Sheng.”

The company Yueyun wasn’t huge, but it had a powerful background—it was a company controlled by the Yan Group! Li Sheng had mentioned his “internal referral” several times, so classmates whose internships weren’t going well were happy to say a few nice things to him.

The classroom, which had gone quiet because of An Jing’s arrival, became lively again.

An Jing didn’t have any close friends in class, and since he didn’t live in the dorms, he had barely spoken to anyone over the past four years. More than half of his thirty-four classmates hadn’t exchanged a single word with him since freshman year. Throughout university, his classmates had gone through one relationship after another, while An Jing didn’t even have a single “rotten peach blossom” (unwanted romantic interest).

An Jing knew he was being left out, but he didn’t care. A person in love with fictional characters should obviously hang out with fictional characters. Deep down, he was actually grateful for the way his classmates and advisors ignored him; he preferred this cold, surface-level politeness. Since no one greeted him when he arrived, he actually felt relieved.

Great, just like that. It’s best if you all treat me like I’m invisible.

Before the thought could even finish, the class monitor stood in front of him.

Their monitor was a petite girl, but she was very efficient and had an impressive resume. She had already been recommended for grad school by her junior year. Because she had to relay tasks from the school counselor, she was the person An Jing spoke to most frequently.

Even standing up, the monitor wasn’t much taller than the seated An Jing. She looked at his long hair covering his eyes and the mask that seemed welded to his face, finally unable to resist reminding him: “During the defense later, you’ll need to take off your mask to leave a good impression on the teachers.”

An Jing gripped his pants, his eyelashes fluttering as he gave a soft “Mm.”

The monitor didn’t notice his nervousness and handed him a sheet. “The defense order follows your student ID numbers. You are number thirty.”

Although An Jing lived in Nancheng, he wasn’t a local, so like all out-of-town students, his ID number was near the end. The defense guidelines were all in the group chat, but the monitor couldn’t remember if An Jing was actually in the group, so she added: “Today isn’t as formal as the final graduation defense. Each person’s time is limited to 5–10 minutes, so keep an eye on the clock.”

It was just a routine notification. She finished speaking and hurried off to find the advisor before An Jing could even open his mouth. Watching her disappear like the wind, An Jing slowly swallowed the “thank you” he was about to say.

The defense started officially at eight. By the time it ended, he probably wouldn’t make it back in time for lunch. An Jing took out his phone to text Yan Qili about it, but his finger hovered over the screen and stopped.

Why should I tell Yan Qili?

It wasn’t like Yan Qili was waiting at home to eat with him. Maybe Yan Qili would suddenly figure things out and go back to the Yan family anytime. But since he had already taken out his phone, if he did nothing and put it back… others would think he was just pretending to be busy.

Everyone was chatting in small groups, so sitting there doing nothing felt awkward. An Jing scrolled through his very short friend list and finally picked out Baili. Baili had a terrible sleep schedule and probably wasn’t awake yet, but besides bothering him, An Jing couldn’t find anyone else.

Yannian: 【Are you awake? What are you doing?】

He expected a reply hours later, but the other person replied instantly.

Baili: 【Moving.】

Yannian: 【You’re moving? Where to?】

Baili: 【Nancheng.】

Yannian: 【???】

An Jing’s hunched back instantly straightened up. 【Nancheng??? You’re coming to Nancheng?】

Jiang Chen had stayed in Nancheng for a few days and felt it was a very livable place. Both Yuzhou Mengand An Jing were here, and since he was a bachelor, it didn’t matter where he lived. Once he felt the spark of the idea, he went for it. Jiang Chen was a social butterfly and a man of action; it took less than a month from the initial thought to actually moving. During that time, he had even settled the housing issue, buying a place in the neighborhood right next to An Jing’s. He had kept it from An Jing just to give him a surprise.

An Jing didn’t know whether to be surprised or startled, but having one more person he could actually talk to in this city was a good thing.

Yannian: 【Then in the future, we can discuss novels offline?】

Yannian: 【Little Bunny Hopping.jpg】

With years of online friendship plus two offline meetings, An Jing wasn’t as intimidated by Jiang Chen anymore. At most, he was just a little nervous.

Jiang Chen, whose head was full of plans for eating and drinking happily with An Jing in Nancheng: “…”

Is it too late to turn back now?

His old house was already listed on the real estate sites; turning back now was definitely too late. Jiang Chen was bored sitting in the car, so he chatted back and forth with An Jing, asking if Yan Qili was still living at his place.

Yannian: 【He’s still here for now, but he should be moving out soon.】

Baili: 【What happened? Did you guys have a falling out? Did you break up?】

Yannian: 【I told you, it’s not what you think between us…】

Baili: 【Not what I think? You haven’t known him long, you aren’t related, yet he eats your food, wears your clothes, and lives in your house—you’re practically worshiping him. If you don’t like him, do you owe him money or something?】

An Jing: …

He had to admit, the second half of Jiang Chen’s sentence hit the mark. He really did owe Yan Qili. The kind that couldn’t be paid back anytime soon. And he really did like Yan Qili, but not in a romantic way. If he had to describe it, it was more like an old father’s love for his kid?

Who wouldn’t love a perfect fictional character they created themselves?

Thinking about the “study” materials Jiang Chen had sent by mistake before, An Jing decided to explain to prevent similar awkwardness.

Yannian: 【It really isn’t what you think. We aren’t from the same world; he’s just staying here temporarily.】

Whether it was the King of Northern Border from the book or the future head of the Yan family now, Yan Qili and he were not the same kind of people. Being able to live together for a while was already a miraculous coincidence. As a fan of fictional characters, being able to get close to one—even for a short time—made An Jing feel lucky enough.

Intuition told Jiang Chen that things weren’t as simple as An Jing claimed. He didn’t argue further, only saying he would finish setting up his new home this afternoon and they should have hot pot tonight. Since he didn’t know many people in Nancheng, a hot pot meal would serve as a housewarming.

After learning that no one else would be there except Jiang Chen and Yuzhou Meng, An Jing hesitated for two seconds before agreeing.

…

At 7:55, the four defense advisors entered. The classroom fell silent, and An Jing put away his phone. At 8:00, the mid-term defense officially began.

It wasn’t An Jing’s turn yet. Unlike other students, he didn’t try to cram at the last minute; instead, he listened intently. Out of necessity for his writing, An Jing had developed a habit of observing people’s behavior and personalities, analyzing how different types of people react to the same situation.

One of the four advisors was his own mentor. His first draft had already passed his mentor’s review, so things shouldn’t be too difficult. The female professor on the far left asked the most questions and was very strict and fair. The professor next to his mentor had a habit of adjusting his glasses; he spoke gently, soothing nervous students and guiding their thoughts. The professor on the right spoke rarely, but his words were sharp and hit the mark, though he would also argue with the strict female professor.

Combined with his young, “peacemaker” mentor… they had the whole “good cop, bad cop” dynamic covered.

When it was the class monitor’s turn, the four advisors had different opinions. The female professor even stood up to argue with her colleagues, leaving the monitor, who was actually supposed to be defending, completely stunned. Watching the intense debate, An Jing temporarily forgot his own stage fright. He was like a swaying piece of grass, thinking every teacher made a lot of sense.

An Jing’s mood of “watching the experts fight” didn’t last long, because the student who went up after the monitor had a thesis topic that crashed head-on into his own.

The bad news: The topics were identical.

The good news: He had one more background element than this student.

The even worse news: This student was a top scholar.

The top student finished their defense to a round of applause. An Jing’s smile froze. He looked down at his own draft and fell into silence.

His defense was really going to turn into a total disaster.

An Jing thought gloomily—Yan Qili was right. Did I really have to get this graduation certificate?

Support