The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 28

After recording the fingerprint, Yin Ya took the initiative to teach Cang Lanyan how to send and receive text messages.

“Receiving texts is just as simple as answering a call. When you see the notification pop up, just tap it to read the full message.” Yin Ya quickly typed a text and sent it to her backup phone. “You’ve already learned how to answer calls, right?”

“There are ‘Answer’ and ‘End Call’ buttons,” Cang Lanyan said. “They’re easy to tell apart.”

“If the other person doesn’t hang up first and you don’t want to keep talking, remember to say ‘Thank you, goodbye’ before pressing ‘End Call,'” Yin Ya patiently reminded her.

“Why say ‘goodbye’?” Cang Lanyan asked.

“Um… it’s a polite expression used by the Human Clan, often used to end a conversation,” Yin Ya explained. “Actually, ‘thank you’ is sometimes used in a similar way.”

Cang Lanyan nodded thoughtfully, then looked at her phone screen. “How do I send a text message?”

“Before you can send a text, you need to type a message. Learning Pinyin takes some time, so let’s start with handwriting input for now.” Yin Ya switched the input method to handwriting, opened a blank document, and handed Cang Lanyan some basic knowledge materials she had prepared earlier. “Try writing down some facts that interest you in this document, and remember to use simplified characters.”

Cang Lanyan quietly took the phone and began typing, occasionally asking questions about the process.

Her questions were simple but hard to explain clearly with words alone. Since she wasn’t originally from this world, when verbal explanations weren’t enough, Yin Ya simply took her hand and showed her how to do it, just as she had before.

“Don’t write too slowly or stay too long in one place. The input method will think you’re ‘done writing,'” Yin Ya explained, demonstrating as she spoke. She then had Cang Lanyan try it herself.

It was then that Yin Ya finally sensed the Big Villain’s clumsiness.

Watching that icy finger clumsily scrawl crooked simplified characters, she felt a strange contrast.

“Too slow,” Cang Lanyan frowned after a few minutes. “How do I learn pinyin?”

Yin Ya, who had never taught someone pinyin from scratch before, was momentarily at a loss for words. After a long pause, she said, “You need to memorize all the consonants and vowels first.”

She opened her computer, downloaded a chart of consonants and vowels with accompanying images and phonetic labels, printed it out, and handed it to Cang Lanyan.

“Once you’ve memorized them, you need to practice combining them to form words.” As she spoke, she typed Cang Lanyan’s name in pinyin into a blank document on her computer. “See? This is your name. Most input methods don’t show the tone marks, so you just need to combine the consonants and vowels that match the sound, then choose the correct character from the list.”

She printed out a list of common syllables on larger paper. “Here are some common combinations. You can try putting them together yourself.”

Seeing how quickly she typed her own name, Cang Lanyan picked up the freshly printed pages. Staring at the two sheets covered in twisted characters, she murmured a quiet “Mm” after a few seconds.

“Teach me how to switch the input method to Pinyin.” She placed the spare laptop between herself and Yin Ya.

Yin Ya set the keyboard to full-key mode. She watched as Cang Lanyan placed her finger on the letter “Y,” then moved it to “I” the next moment.

Yin Ya.

Though unfamiliar with the keyboard layout, Cang Lanyan’s spelling was remarkably accurate. Before Yin Ya could fully process what was happening, her name had already appeared in the document.

The spare laptop’s input method remembered her name. After typing the full Pinyin, her name popped up as the first suggestion.

“Pinyin is truly convenient,” Cang Lanyan remarked, deliberately typing the sentence into the document.

She seemed fascinated by pinyin, placing the materials in front of her and typing the content into a document, bit by bit.

“Practice this for now. I need to go take care of Bohe.” Seeing that she wouldn’t need him for the moment, Yin Ya quickly closed her laptop and stood up to leave.

However, a tendril of spiritual power suddenly blocked her path.

“You’ve taught me so much and even spent money on me. Don’t you want some kind of return?” Cang Lanyan asked.

Yin Ya’s heart skipped a beat. She initially wanted to brush it off politely, but then realized that her one-sided generosity might make the Big Villain misinterpret her intentions. Instead, she decided to turn the question back on her: “What kind of return do you think I should ask for?”

“Humans often use ‘numbers’ as currency, stored on their phones, but I can’t provide that right now,” Cang Lanyan said. “Honor and status require recognition from those in power. Aside from those, you can have whatever you want.”

What a bold claim!

Yin Ya almost thought she was living with a magic lamp. After pondering Cang Lanyan’s words for a long time, she realized that the merman couldn’t fulfill any of her current wishes.

“Well then, what kind of reward do you want to give me?” she asked.

She soon regretted her choice.

The merman, who had been quietly typing, stood up, draped an arm over her shoulders, and leaned down to look her in the eye.

Yin Ya’s eyes widened, and she instinctively pushed at the merman, but her hand met only air.

“See? The reward I want to give you is one you don’t want,” Cang Lanyan said from behind her. “But this is the only one I can think of right now.”

“You probably don’t understand the concepts of ‘boundaries’ and ‘personal space,'” Yin Ya said, pushing up her glasses and turning around with a serious expression. “In the Human Clan, whether you’re with someone of the same or opposite gender, you need to maintain a certain distance until your relationship reaches a certain level. Otherwise, you’ll make the other person uncomfortable.”

“Is that why you wrote those rules?” Cang Lanyan asked.

“Sure,” Yin Ya nodded. “I… I don’t like getting too close to anyone, even Cen Xiang, who I grew up with.”

“Liar,” Cang Lanyan said.

“I’m not…” Yin Ya was about to protest when she suddenly felt a warm sensation on the back of her neck, where her hair didn’t cover.

It wasn’t Cang Lanyan’s body heat, but there was no one else in the room, so the warmth could only belong to her.

It was a taboo never written in the rules—one she never imagined Cang Lanyan would ever break!

This time, the breath caressing her neck was warm, like willow catkins drifting past her ear in spring. The heat quickly spread from the back of her neck to her cheeks.

Yin Ya felt her rationality slipping away.

She should have pushed Cang Lanyan away, just like before.

But an unfamiliar sense of comfort made her shamefully choose to yield and submit. She even closed her eyes, silently allowing that warm softness to slowly move upward.

Through the thick, fluffy pajamas, a pair of arms gently wrapped around her from behind.

Support The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story