The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 20

“What information?” Yin Ya asked, momentarily confused. Cang Lanyan’s sharp gaze snapped her back to reality. “Oh! I’ll organize it for you right after I finish eating!”

This was indeed crucial. The sooner the Big Villain understood basic social norms, the less trouble she’d cause.

But there was one more thing Yin Ya needed to confirm.

Yin Ya immediately opened her phone, opened the delivery app, and checked her messages. As expected, she saw a message from the delivery person: “Hey, I hung your delivery on the door and even took a picture, but some jerk stole it before I could blink. I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. [photo].”

The message was from ten minutes ago. Judging by the tone, the delivery person didn’t suspect anything supernatural, just bad luck and a clever thief.

Yin Ya forced herself to relax, quickly tipped the delivery person, and replied: “It’s okay, I got it back!”

After replying, Yin Ya quickly finished the remaining wontons, eating while pondering where to start teaching Cang Lanyan basic common sense.

Asking Cang Lanyan what she wanted to learn was out of the question. This world was full of new and unfamiliar things she’d never seen before. Yin Ya would have to decide the curriculum herself.

Yes, a curriculum.

Silently defining the Big Villain as her student, Yin Ya suddenly felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders grow heavier.

But the truth was, she deserved this burden. Having written this character and possibly even interfered with time and space, allowing a character meant to remain confined to the pages of a book to mistakenly enter the real world, she was now responsible for her.

She quickly finished the wontons, hastily tidied up, took the two delivery boxes out to throw away, and returned to wash her hands in the bathroom. No sooner had she stepped in than she heard Cang Lanyan ask, “Exactly what do you mean by ‘scared’?”

Yin Ya had guessed she’d ask this question eventually. Explaining things clearly to the Big Villain now would save her from agonizing over ignorance later. She squeezed some soap onto her hands and rubbed them together as she answered, “I’m afraid to interact with people. Whether it’s strangers I pass on the street or classmates and neighbors I see every day, I’m afraid of them all.”

“If that’s the case, why weren’t you afraid last night?”

The expected question pierced her ears. If she’d heard it last night, Yin Ya thought her blood pressure would have spiked again from anger.

But now she could calmly explain, “Because I was even more afraid of not finding you. There are so many people on the streets, and you’re so distinctive. If you showed yourself even a little, based on your interests, someone would notice you.”

“I said yesterday that I wouldn’t easily appear before those who don’t believe in gods and spirits,” Cang Lanyan said.

Yin Ya understood exactly what she meant. She was trying to mock her for her poor memory. Yin Ya deliberately said softly, “I remember. I remember perfectly.”

She turned on the faucet, and warm water quickly washed away the soap suds from her hands, leaving only a faint lemony fragrance.

Cang Lanyan didn’t press further with her questions. When Yin Ya finished drying her hands and left the bathroom, she found Cang Lanyan already engrossed in a book, sitting ramrod straight with an expressionless face, flipping through the pages at a rapid pace—faster than before.

“I’ll go gather some information for you,” Yin Ya said, turning toward the bedroom with her phone in hand and closing the door behind her.

She climbed to the upper bunk, picked up the laptop that had nearly died last night, and moved it next to the power cord, connecting it as she waited for it to boot up.

Her laptop was password-protected and locked when closed. Even if Cang Lanyan accidentally pressed the power button, she couldn’t use it without the password and could only watch helplessly as the battery drained and it shut down automatically.

Last night, constantly under Cang Lanyan’s watchful gaze, Yin Ya had barely managed to stash the laptop in a safe place before it died completely. She’d had to recharge it for a while before it would start up again.

After unlocking the laptop, Yin Ya saw Cang Lanyan’s portrait on the desktop. On impulse, she opened the photo library to change the wallpaper. But just as she was about to press the “Change” button, her hand froze.

We’ve already met the Big Villain. Changing the wallpaper won’t make much difference. It’s not like swapping the background image will send that troublesome person back to where she came from in real life.

Moreover, last night she had even said herself that she kept a portrait of Cang Lanyan to seek her blessings. Since the Big Villain still retained this “Guardian God” aspect, wouldn’t she at least consider this before bullying Yin Ya in the future?

The moment the word “bullying” popped into her mind, Yin Ya couldn’t help but frown.

Why was she even thinking about it in such a negative way? The Big Villain probably just wanted to use some tricks to get information quickly. If Yin Ya cooperated properly and even made things easier for her, the Big Villain could still be quite reasonable… probably?

Yin Ya wasn’t actually very sure about this. Even as she opened a blank document to write basic knowledge for the Big Villain, she was still pondering this question.

After interacting with the real person, she realized her understanding of Cang Lanyan’s character was probably still stuck at the superficial level of her bio.

Even though she claimed to love Cang Lanyan and had spent several thousand yuan on commissioning art of her, she probably didn’t love her that much.

Otherwise…

Otherwise, why hadn’t she respected the original outline and insisted on adding more scenes for Cang Lanyan, turning her into a melodramatic “beautiful, strong, and tragic” character? And when Cang Lanyan finally came to her side, why had she been so panicked instead of ecstatic?

Wasn’t she the one who only liked the idea of Cang Lanyan, not the reality? Her affection was merely superficial, confined to words and appearances.

The crisp rhythm of keyboard strokes fell silent. Yin Ya gripped the mouse, dragged the document back to the first page, and began meticulously annotating the simple summaries with detailed notes.

She had never been particularly skilled at socializing. The few close friends she’d managed to make over the years had mostly come to her first.

Perhaps it was fate. This time, she decided to take the initiative.

Cang Lanyan, having lived for so long and met countless people, would surely see through her thin veneer of pretense and lies in an instant. Before the Big Villain, her facade would crumble like paper.

Only genuine sincerity could keep Cang Lanyan by her side, content and unthreatening, refraining from causing trouble or manipulating her.

But the moment this thought surfaced, Yin Ya began to fret about her true identity as the author.

She really couldn’t reveal that too soon. If she were in Cang Lanyan’s shoes and suddenly discovered she was merely a character in someone else’s book, her entire existence and personality crafted by another’s pen, she’d…

The WeChat call tone snapped Yin Ya back to reality. Glancing at her phone, she saw it was Cen Xiang, her childhood friend, calling. She quickly answered, “Hey, Er Xiang? I’m free to talk now.”

“I know you wouldn’t answer right away if you were busy, ha ha ha ha ha!” a cheerful female voice rang out, accompanied by the background noise of car horns. “I’m on my way. Should I head straight to your place?”

Yin Ya finally remembered the message she’d received before ordering the takeout. Lowering her voice, she admitted, “I… I haven’t actually decided yet, but she doesn’t seem to mind interacting with people… Can you believe it? She even picked up the takeout for me yesterday and today.”

“That’s not so bad!” Cen Xiang remarked. “How are you holding up? She hasn’t been bullying you again, has she?”

Hearing the word “bullying” from someone else, especially someone with a slightly perverted mind like Cen Xiang, made Yin Ya immediately imagine embarrassing scenes, and her face flushed slightly.

“She’s reading,” Yin Ya replied quickly. “Still working on Dream of the Red Chamber. She’s even reading faster than I do.”

“Why did you give her that book?” Cen Xiang asked, sounding puzzled. “Aren’t you worried she’ll learn all the twists and turns of human emotions and accidentally awaken her desires?”

“She took it herself,” Yin Ya said helplessly. “I found her reading it when I woke up this morning. Don’t jump to such scary conclusions! Dream of the Red Chamber isn’t just about romance—it’s rich in philosophy and cultural content too!”

“I think you’re being too optimistic,” Cen Xiang said, her voice turning serious. “After all, a merman’s love-struck nature is ingrained in their very bones. And Cang Lanyan was born from a merman’s tear. Even if you wrote her as someone who suppresses emotions and desires, wouldn’t that facade crumble the moment the right opportunity arose?”

Yin Ya had never considered this. After a few seconds of stunned silence, she blurted out;

“But I’m a straight woman!”

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