The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 11

Lost in her wild thoughts, Yin Ya didn’t forget to glance at Cang Lanyan.

Unaware that she was being treated like a “daughter,” the Big Villain closed Journey to the West under Yin Ya’s gaze, got up, and walked over. She glanced at the dishes and rice on the table, said nothing, and quietly sat down on the sofa. She picked up her chopsticks and reached for the sour and spicy potato shreds.

Yin Ya liked to start with a few sips of soup to warm her stomach. Just as she swallowed two mouthfuls, Cang Lanyan said, “It’s so sour.”

“This is sour and spicy potato shreds,” Yin Ya explained. “I prefer sour flavors, so I added extra vinegar.”

Despite her complaints, Cang Lanyan didn’t waste the food. Intrigued by the potato shreds, she swallowed and picked up another serving with her chopsticks, wrapping them around her rice before popping them into her mouth.

As Yin Ya sipped her soup and ate her vegetables, she secretly observed Cang Lanyan’s eating habits.

The low coffee table used as a dining table, combined with the high sofa they were sitting on, made it awkward to find a place for Cang Lanyan’s long legs. This awkward posture affected her eating posture.

Yet Cang Lanyan managed to eat the two simple home-style dishes with an eerie grace. As she ate, her fluorescent blue ribbon continued to undulate without wind, its waves curling as if it had a life of its own.

The more Yin Ya observed her “daughter,” Cang Lanyan, the more she seemed godlike. Despite eating ordinary food, her entire demeanor felt detached from the mortal world.

Yet, recalling Cang Lanyan’s actions today, Yin Ya silently tore the “godlike” label from her mental image of the merman.

Truth be told, Cang Lanyan had called Yin Ya strange, and as the creator of Cang Lanyan, Yin Ya found the merman equally strange.

The merman’s appearance closely matched Yin Ya’s descriptions and resembled the sketches she had commissioned. But in terms of personality, they barely overlapped. Cang Lanyan’s character seemed to brush against her original vision, sharing only a superficial resemblance.

To Yin Ya, Cang Lanyan felt like a “familiar stranger,” or perhaps an old friend she hadn’t seen in years—seemingly unchanged, yet somehow polished by time into someone she had never truly known.

Lost in thought, Yin Ya’s gaze lingered on Cang Lanyan for a few extra seconds. The sharp-eyed Big Villain noticed immediately. A congealed meatball suddenly flew out of the soup, forcing its way between Yin Ya’s teeth and nearly choking her.

After finally swallowing the meatball, Yin Ya took a sip of soup to suppress her mounting resentment. Looking out the window, she asked, “Would you like to go out and see the world?”

Regardless, since the Big Villain wanted to settle in this world, she’d eventually have to familiarize her with it, and the sooner the better.

Even though Cang Lanyan hated going out more than anything.

Cang Lanyan also took a sip of soup, not answering directly. “I am somewhat curious.”

“Then I could accompany you on a walk,” Yin Ya said. “If you need a guide.”

Cang Lanyan pushed aside a piece of chili pepper, picking up some shredded potatoes as she asked, “What, you dare go out at night?”

Even though she now knew the truth behind the “Divine Punishment,” Yin Ya didn’t dare use a flimsy excuse like “With you by my side, I wouldn’t be afraid of anything.” She simply nodded.

For someone as much of a shut-in as she was, the dim lighting of night actually made her feel safer than the bright daylight.

The darkness limited people’s vision, and even with streetlights and billboards illuminating the way, walking through the streets and crowds at night felt completely different from the daytime.

“Still, it’s best to keep yourself hidden when you’re out,” Yin Ya reminded her while clearing the dishes. “It’s not just you. Even someone dressed a little oddly will draw attention, especially at night when it’s pitch black. Some people might get suspicious and think they’re seeing a ghost in the middle of the night.”

At that moment, she suddenly remembered how Cang Lanyan had teleported to the door when the delivery arrived at noon. She wondered what the delivery guy had seen that made him hastily drop off the food and flee.

“How deeply do humans fear gods and spirits?” Cang Lanyan asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Yin Ya said, shaking her head as she carried the dishes to the kitchen. “But it’s probably not as extreme as in ancient times. More than fear, they’re likely just curious—after all, we’re different species.”

“Is this why humans are so disrespectful towards gods and spirits?” Cang Lanyan pressed.

This question stumped Yin Ya. She recalled explaining something similar to the Big Villain before, but the context had been different, making a direct answer inappropriate.

Squeezing some dish soap into her hands, she rubbed them together, thinking quickly. In the end, she gave a vague response: “I think that’s part of it.”

“Then why are you so deferential to me at every moment?” Cang Lanyan immediately followed up.

Yin Ya frowned slightly, wondering if Cang Lanyan had discovered something new. She quickly settled on a cautious answer: “Because I believe it’s necessary to approach the unknown with

“Unknown entity?” Cang Lanyan rolled the words around on her tongue, her voice carrying a mocking undertone. She left the sentence unfinished, as if leaving Yin Ya to ponder its deeper meaning.

Yin Ya’s heart skipped a beat at this half-smile, half-question. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the Big Villain was really asking:

“Do you truly see me as an unknown entity?”

The moment the thought crossed her mind, Yin Ya’s hand slipped. If she hadn’t reacted quickly, she would have smashed the porcelain plate into the sink.

Don’t think about it too much! The more you think, the more terrifying it becomes!

Fortunately, Cang Lanyan didn’t press further. Yin Ya quickly washed the dishes, then rushed to her bedroom to change into her winter clothes. She bundled up in layers, donned a mask, scarf, and gloves, and finally reappeared before Cang Lanyan.

It was the transitional season, and Linjiang City’s coastal location meant that even with all its skyscrapers, the night wind remained bitterly cold and fierce. With the new school term approaching and a myriad of tasks looming, she couldn’t afford to catch a cold.

Her heavily layered attire seemed to tickle Cang Lanyan’s sense of humor. The usually composed Big Villain struggled to maintain her composure, her lips curling into a smirk as she pinched the fluffy fabric of Yin Ya’s down jacket.

Yin Ya: “……”

“You look like a silkworm cocoon,” Cang Lanyan said with a smile, meeting Yin Ya’s bewildered gaze.

Her beauty was striking, and her smile, like a flurry of snowflakes shaking off a branch, landed with a soft thud in Yin Ya’s heart. A chill spread out, but it seemed to invigorate her listless spirit.

It was then that Yin Ya suddenly felt the paper-thin characters in her story come alive, gaining vitality and smiling in response to her mood, rather than maintaining their rigid, expressionless faces in a futile attempt to maintain their image as Guardian Gods.

In the next instant, the merman before her vanished, and she felt a sudden chill in her ear.

“Let’s go,” Cang Lanyan’s voice whispered directly into her ear, soft as a feather brushing against her earlobe.

Yin Ya shivered involuntarily and asked curiously, “Did you transform into the Sea-Pacifying Needle?”

The Big Villain had spent the afternoon reading Journey to the West. Sun Wukong’s Gold-Banded Cudgel, also known as the Sea-Pacifying Needle, usually resided in his ear.

“That transformation was quite intriguing, so I learned it,” Cang Lanyan replied.

Yin Ya began to feel uneasy. Though she regularly cleaned her ears, having the immaculate, slightly obsessive Big Villain suddenly nestled in her ear made her uneasy.

Yet Cang Lanyan’s tone held no hint of disdain. After her heart raced wildly for a moment, Yin Ya found herself inexplicably calm again.

She turned off the air conditioning, changed her shoes, grabbed her keys, and rushed straight to the elevator as soon as she stepped outside.

It was rush hour, and office workers were returning home. Surprisingly, the elevator going down was nearly empty.

Yin Ya tucked her hands into her pockets, huddled in a corner, and kept her distance from the others. She tilted her head back slightly, silently counting the numbers on the display as they slowly changed.

Perhaps because others were present, Cang Lanyan remained silent. Only when Yin Ya stepped out of the elevator onto an empty hallway did she ask, “What was that thing?”

“It’s an elevator,” Yin Ya explained. “All tall buildings have them. They replace the need to climb stairs, making life so much easier.”

“It runs on electricity, right?” Cang Lanyan asked.

“Exactly. Without power, it’s useless.” Yin Ya glanced back at her building, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “I live on the 22nd floor. When I first moved in, I was always worried about power outages. Climbing 22 flights of stairs would be exhausting.”

“Like last night?” The Big Villain still seemed to struggle with the concept of a blackout.

“Exactly! When the power goes out, anything that needs electricity stops working,” Yin Ya said. “It’s a real headache. These days, people don’t use candles or stoves much. Even phones and lamps only last until their batteries die.”

At Ruiye Garden, evening strollers were already out after dinner. Yin Ya carefully avoided them, keeping her voice hushed.

“I believe you now,” Cang Lanyan suddenly said, out of nowhere.

Yin Ya stopped walking. “…Believe what?”

“You’re shy around strangers,” Cang Lanyan said. “I’ve used my Spiritual Sense to scan the area. There are only weak humans here, yet you keep avoiding them.”

Yin Ya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She changed direction and continued walking.

“Actually, I’m not that afraid of people,” she said. “As long as strangers don’t talk to me, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Ruiye Garden was near a commercial street, across from the university Yin Ya attended, which was adjacent to a food street. After a moment’s hesitation, Yin Ya decided to take Cang Lanyan to the commercial street.

“If you see a shop you’re interested in, just give me a gentle poke,” she reminded Cang Lanyan as they walked. “I’ll take you inside to look around.”

In the crowded area, Cang Lanyan fell silent, occasionally shifting her ice-cold body into a different position in Yin Ya’s ear, like a lazy piece of salted fish.

Yin Ya knew she was observing her surroundings, so she kept moving forward without stopping.

Ruiye Garden was near the subway station, and by evening, the street would fill with office workers rushing home, friends chatting and shopping together, and pet owners strolling with their dogs…

But Yin Ya kept her eyes straight ahead, brushing past them all with slow, deliberate steps.

Amidst the bustling crowd of strangers, she was just an inconspicuous leaf, unnoticed and unnoticing, with no one to care about or anything to look forward to.

She wasn’t sure how many shops she’d passed when the sudden chill against her ear snapped her out of her sudden loneliness.

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