The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 27
“Half-hearted.”
Yin Ya’s unease was interrupted by Cang Lanyan’s blunt assessment, causing her eyes to widen in shock.
“If you were truly a great benefactor, why would you have written all these rules to bind me?” Cang Lanyan pressed, her voice sharp. “You clearly fear me, yet you have reasons that force you to keep me here.”
“I…” Yin Ya found herself speechless, biting her lip in silence.
In truth, she could have easily ignored Cang Lanyan and let the transmigrator from another world leave her home. After all, the power outage that night meant the surveillance couldn’t trace Cang Lanyan’s sudden appearance, nor could it connect her to an ordinary out-of-town college student.
When she first took Cang Lanyan in, her motives had indeed been partly selfish. She struggled to articulate the weight of this selfishness—how it had compelled her to suppress her fear of Cang Lanyan and gradually teach her basic knowledge, hoping to help her adapt to this unfamiliar world.
Seeing Yin Ya’s prolonged silence, Cang Lanyan leaned closer.
Even with the invisible barrier formed by the rules separating them, Yin Ya instinctively held her breath.
Her long, soft eyelashes seemed to brush against Yin Ya’s forehead. Her calm, steady breathing was clearly audible, carrying a faint minty fragrance.
Yin Ya’s heartbeat seemed to lose its rhythm, pounding heavily in her chest with each breath.
“Now, there’s one thing I’m certain of,” Cang Lanyan suddenly said.
Yin Ya’s heart skipped a beat in surprise. After a long pause, when no further explanation came, she looked at Cang Lanyan in confusion.
“Go take off that ‘Cocoon’ you’re wearing,” Cang Lanyan continued. “It makes you look bulky.”
“…” Yin Ya was silent.
She had expected the Big Villain to make some startling deduction. Instead, she simply replied with a soft “Oh,” her voice carrying an unnoticeable hint of disappointment.
Under Cang Lanyan’s watchful gaze, she first removed the God-Binding Sash disguised as a scarf from around her neck, hanging it on the coat rack. After changing into cotton slippers, she slowly shuffled toward the bedroom.
As she changed, Yin Ya glanced at the lower bunk where Cang Lanyan had slept and couldn’t help but sigh.
Indulging in personal desires always came at a price.
Could she truly bear the consequences?
After watching Yin Ya enter the bedroom, Cang Lanyan returned to her desk, gracefully sat down, and continued reading the unfinished documents.
The God-Binding Sash, hanging on the coat rack, transformed back into a flowing ribbon, coiling around her arm.
Cang Lanyan gently stroked the shimmering sash, her lips pursed slightly.
Human love was truly a paradox: both hypocritical and genuine, reserved yet blunt. Every aspect of it was filled with contradictions she couldn’t comprehend.
Even the lovers themselves often remained ignorant of the depth of their own infatuation.
Still, it wasn’t entirely a bad thing.
Precisely because of these complexities, despite the many rules constraining her, she could always make that unguarded little hedgehog reveal its softest parts whenever she wished.
After changing into her fluffy pajamas, Yin Ya didn’t rush out of her bedroom. Instead, she sent a message to Cen Xiang.
“How are you doing?” she asked. “Did she use any spells to track you?”
“Nah, I’m fine. I’m already back in my dorm,” Cen Xiang replied instantly. “If she wants to follow me, let her. I’m just a 2D artist. Even if she investigates, she won’t find anything.”
“But her draft character profile should be on your computer, right?” Yin Ya pointed out.
“Don’t worry about that either. I won’t even open that folder unless you need it,” Cen Xiang assured her. “Relax. Besides, if she really wanted to expose your secret identity, she wouldn’t even need to touch your phone or computer.”
“Don’t jinx it!” Yin Ya’s fingers trembled as she typed. “I keep feeling like my cover is already half-transparent.”
“Then just stall her,” Cen Xiang suggested. “Act clueless, give her vague answers—whatever it takes. You’ve already put so many restrictions on her, including ‘Word Magic Prohibition.’ She can’t just force you to spill, right?”
Yin Ya agreed silently, but before she could respond, Cen Xiang sent another message.
[ Er Xiang: ] In short, don’t back down! Think of yourself as a god! She can’t threaten you anymore!
After reading the message, Yin Ya let out a helpless, bitter chuckle.
She had long grown accustomed to obedience and found it difficult to assert herself. Her cringing before the Big Villain was simply an instinctive reaction.
However, ever since discovering she could restrain the Big Villain by writing settings, she had instinctively learned to stand up for herself. Though she couldn’t maintain it for long, it still counted as a small improvement.
Worried that Cang Lanyan might teleport in again if she waited too long, Yin Ya replied to Cen Xiang, then turned off her phone and left the bedroom.
Cang Lanyan sat quietly at the computer desk, flipping through documents. Hearing a noise, she looked up at Yin Ya.
“Teach me how to use a phone,” she said before Yin Ya could speak.
Yin Ya froze, wondering if the Big Villain’s sudden politeness meant she was plotting something. But in the next moment, the spare phone nestled in her pocket floated over to Cang Lanyan.
“But you said you didn’t need a phone yesterday!” Yin Ya blurted out.
She remembered clearly that the Big Villain had initially wanted to study smartphones. But when she learned that phones operate based on human-set programs, she flew into a rage and took it out on the data cable.
“Now I have a message to deliver,” Cang Lanyan said, holding the backup phone and calmly observing Yin Ya without elaborating further.
Yin Ya couldn’t tell if this was good or bad, but since the Big Villain wasn’t elaborating, she wisely avoided stirring up trouble and tactfully stopped asking questions. Instead, she took out her own phone and sat down beside Cang Lanyan.
“Let’s start with the basics: turning on and off the phone, and locking and unlocking the screen,” she said, then demonstrated each step.
Cang Lanyan watched intently, then repeated the actions exactly as shown. But when she reached the locked screen, she hesitated, not swiping to unlock.
“What’s face recognition?” she asked.
“Where did you hear that term?” Yin Ya asked, surprised.
The backup phone was an older model from a time before face recognition existed; it only had fingerprint unlock. But since Cang Lanyan had asked, Yin Ya explained, “It’s a technology used to identify people. Once you set it up, the screen will only unlock when it ‘sees’ your face. That way, no one else can use your phone. Fingerprint unlock works on the same principle.”
Since she’d already explained it, Yin Ya decided to help Cang Lanyan set up fingerprint unlock.
“This backup phone doesn’t have face recognition, but it does have fingerprint unlock.” She held out her hand. “Give me the phone for a moment.”
She quickly brought up the fingerprint setup screen, then handed the phone back to Cang Lanyan. “Just press your finger on the designated area as the instructions say.”
Cang Lanyan nodded and pressed her index finger against the sensor area.
Whether she didn’t understand the instructions or for some other reason, Cang Lanyan’s fingerprint registration was painfully slow. Yin Ya waited nearly five minutes, but the process still hadn’t completed.
Unable to resist, Yin Ya leaned closer and saw Cang Lanyan repeatedly pressing the same area, which had already been successfully recorded. “You need to press a different spot,” she said instinctively.
“What?” Cang Lanyan asked, pressing the same area again.
Yin Ya couldn’t stand it anymore. She gently took hold of Cang Lanyan’s index finger, repositioned it at a different angle, and pressed it against the sensor area.
“See? It’s that simple.” Having quickly finished recording Cang Lanyan’s fingerprint, Yin Ya smiled, a hint of smugness in her voice.