The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 30

Yin Ya didn’t know how long she had slept, only that she had experienced a deeply restful dream. Every corner of her heart had been soothed, every trace of anxiety calmed.

Yet when she woke, she couldn’t remember what she had dreamed about. Even the faint outlines of the dream figures had blurred into obscurity as her mind cleared.

She felt a pang of regret. But within seconds, the coldness seeping into her skin from every angle revealed the likely content of her forgotten dream.

She hurriedly opened the wardrobe, quickly found dry clothes, changed, gathered her wet clothes, climbed down the bed ladder, and rushed out of the bedroom.

As the washing machine hummed, Yin Ya scrubbed small items in the basin, silently cursing Cang Lanyan for her ominous words. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder: Who was that person in her dream?

When she finished hanging the laundry and went to the kitchen, she saw Cang Lanyan already seated in her usual spot.

The curtains by the computer desk were drawn open, and rare winter sunlight streamed in, giving her snow-white hair a pale golden edge.

Yin Ya thought to herself, The weather’s nice today. The clothes should dry quickly.

Seeing Cang Lanyan subtly shift as if to look up, Yin Ya awkwardly averted her gaze, walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and prepared a jar of milk and a bowl of cereal for breakfast.

But the tactless merman followed her, standing in the kitchen doorway with arms crossed, watching her curiously.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Cang Lanyan asked.

Yin Ya’s hand paused mid-air, holding the cereal box. When she turned to meet Cang Lanyan’s gaze, all the confusion and shame she’d felt since waking up suddenly found a focus.

“What’s the point in asking when you already know?” she retorted, grabbing the milk carton and cereal box. She slammed the fridge door shut with her elbow and strode to the kitchen counter without looking back.

Behind her, Cang Lanyan chuckled softly, but Yin Ya couldn’t tell if it was mocking or genuinely amused.

The rules she’d written were like decorative ornaments, more like a sieve that Cang Lanyan could slip through at will, undermining all her defenses.

What infuriated her most was the Old Monster’s skill at erasing and obscuring. As long as she remained silent, Yin Ya would only assume she’d had a hypocritical dream.

“Don’t be angry,” Cang Lanyan drawled, offering a deliberate explanation. “I simply heard you were having trouble sleeping, so I gave you a little help. Human bodies are so fragile; a single night of poor sleep can affect your mental state.”

Yin Ya’s hand tightened into a fist around the milk bottle cap in frustration.

Cang Lanyan’s final remark was exactly what Yin Ya had written in her notes about human habits!

To explain the differences between humans and monsters to the Old Monster, and to prevent her from constantly mocking her with remarks like “Why are you eating again?” Yin Ya had meticulously documented basic human customs: “Humans need to eat regularly, at least three meals a day,” and “Humans sleep every night and sometimes nap during the day.”

Yet Cang Lanyan had actually used these very words to lecture her! And Yin Ya couldn’t argue back.

“Just sleep your sleep from now on,” Yin Ya snapped. “Don’t worry about me.” She poured the milk into a clean pot and lit the stove to heat it.

“It’s a trivial matter, unworthy of mention,” Cang Lanyan replied with a smile.

Yin Ya fell silent, unable to tell whether the woman genuinely didn’t understand her meaning or was deliberately playing dumb. She simply ignored the comment.

While the milk heated, Yin Ya grabbed a large bowl, filled it with two servings of cereal, transferred the cereal to the pot to mix with the milk, and added a splash of hot water.

Two rich scents wafted into Yin Ya’s nose. Hearing soft footsteps behind her, she casually explained, “This is milk and cereal. I usually have it for breakfast, but I also eat it when I’m hungry.”

A faint tickle at the back of her neck made her instantly stop talking. Without turning around, she knew Cang Lanyan had leaned closer, letting her hair fall onto Yin Ya’s back.

“It smells wonderful,” Cang Lanyan’s voice brushed against her ear, leaving Yin Ya unsure if she was complimenting the cereal or the scent on her.

Yin Ya couldn’t help but think, This Old Monster is sometimes just like a cat—curious, elegant, and a little tsundere. She even turns into a clingy furball sometimes, leaving her hair on me and my clothes, just like now.

Though Yin Ya didn’t want Cang Lanyan to get too close, she realized she was essentially raising a human-shaped cat—one that couldn’t be spayed. This thought softened her irritation a little.

…Maybe that’s why she could still prepare breakfast for two while feeling annoyed.

Ignoring Cang Lanyan’s antics, Yin Ya turned off the heat, scooped out the milk and cereal, washed the spoon, and placed two bowls on the table. She handed one bowl to Cang Lanyan without even turning around and said calmly, “I’m not sure about your taste. The sugar is in the first spice jar on that shelf.”

This time, Cang Lanyan didn’t push her luck. She took the bowl and walked toward the spice shelf.

The bowl was heatproof. Yin Ya carried her own bowl back to her bedroom, ate while thinking, and tiptoed to retrieve her phone from the basket. Just as she was about to check for new messages, the glaring “12:23” on the screen nearly made her choke.

After putting the basket back, Yin Ya continued eating her cereal, trying to remember. She definitely hadn’t heard her alarm this morning. Had she subconsciously wanted more sleep and turned it off in a half-awake state?

Whatever the reason, she’d managed to let the morning slip by in a haze of dreams. She wondered if Cang Lanyan had gone out alone or tried breaking into another house again.

Yin Ya couldn’t help but start worrying. She hastily finished her cereal and was about to ask Cang Lanyan when a video call suddenly came through.

She looked down and saw the familiar profile picture and name. She immediately rushed to lock her bedroom door, set down her bowl, and climbed up to her top bunk. After tucking herself in, she finally answered the call and whispered into the camera, “Mom.”

“Why haven’t you woken up yet today?” the woman on the screen asked with a smile.

“Er Xiang came over yesterday, and we stayed up late,” Yin Ya lied, deliberately yawning. “I’m getting up soon.”

Her mother smiled and asked, “Spring is coming soon, and it’s going to get hot. Should I come over and bring you some lighter clothes?”

Before Yin Ya could answer, her mother explained, “I originally wanted Cen Xiang to bring them for you, but she had an urgent matter to attend to and left. I didn’t have a chance to give them to her.”

“Not right now, Mom,” Yin Ya said, shaking her head. “The late spring chill will keep it cold for a few more days. I still have some light clothes here. If you’re really worried, you can just mail them to me instead of making a special trip.”

“Living alone out there, I can’t help but worry,” her mother said helplessly.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Yin Ya said with a smile. “Er Xiang is coming to visit me soon. Just focus on your work. I’ll take good care of myself.”

Her mother finally relented, nodding and sighing.

Yin Ya had already put her finger on the hang-up button, ready to end the call, when her mother suddenly asked, “Yaya, you’re not living with anyone else, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Yin Ya replied, maintaining her composure as she continued to lie. She suppressed the urge to hang up. “You know I’ve always hated sharing space with others.”

Her mother chatted a little more before reluctantly ending the call, distracted by work.

After confirming the video call was over, Yin Ya leaned against the bedside table, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst out of her chest.

She quickly called Cen Xiang and, as calmly as she could manage, summarized the recent phone call. She then coordinated their lies and begged Cen Xiang to keep her secret.

“Come on, we know each other too well for that! Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered,” Cen Xiang assured her. “But you should still be careful around Auntie. She might drop by unexpectedly.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Yin Ya said weakly. “But it depends on whether Cang Lanyan will cooperate with me.”

“Try talking to her,” Cen Xiang suggested. “She seems to listen to you. It’s not like you can’t communicate.”

“What delusion are you living in…?” The mere mention of Cang Lanyan gave Yin Ya a headache. “If she listened to me, I wouldn’t be frantically calling you for advice.”

“Actually, even if Auntie does see her, you can just say she’s a guest from the Anime Club borrowing the space. Auntie will be back before evening anyway,” Cen Xiang said. “Since you’re so straightforward, she probably won’t suspect anything.”

Yin Ya’s heart tightened, and her hand unconsciously gripped the quilt. She forced herself to sound calm: “That makes sense. Let’s do that for now. I’ll hang up now.”

“Wait! Your voice sounds off! Did something happen?” Cen Xiang asked urgently.

“No, I just woke up,” Yin Ya lied numbly. “My head’s still a little foggy.”

“Get up already! Don’t go back to sleep!” Cen Xiang urged. “If you keep sleeping like this, you’ll end up staying up all night again!”

After hanging up, Yin Ya tossed her phone onto the pillow and covered her eyes with her hand.

The warm air conditioning had been turned off before she left the bedroom, and now the room was cold. Her hand felt as icy as Cang Lanyan’s.

Just then, she felt something cool and slimy poking her hand. She moved her hand away and saw a sky-blue jellyfish “standing” before her, lazily lifting one of its tentacles as if waving hello.

The moment she saw the jellyfish, she thought of Cang Lanyan, and then realized this was probably another surveillance spell from the Big Villain. Her anger flared. She grabbed the jellyfish and roughly rubbed its upper bell.

Is this Old Monster obsessed with surveillance? Why does she love spying on people so much? Is there something wrong with her head?!

This time, the jellyfish barely struggled, squishing like soft clay as she kneaded it. It only weakly lifted a tentacle in protest.

Yin Ya continued kneading the jellyfish, wondering when Cang Lanyan would come to retrieve her “spy.” But after waiting several minutes, there was still no sign of her.

She locked the door to let Cang Lanyan know she was busy and didn’t want to be disturbed, but a mere lock wouldn’t hinder the Old Monster’s movements, especially since she could teleport.

Yin Ya felt strangely bored. She put her phone in her pocket, carried the jellyfish off the bed, and picked up the empty bowl to wash it.

Along the way, the jellyfish even tried to escape, but stopped struggling after she firmly pressed down on its umbrella and gripped it tightly.

However, as soon as she stepped out, she heard muffled groans from the bathroom, and the door was tightly shut.

Yin Ya froze, instinctively glancing at the empty bowl in her hand.

Some people are allergic to cereal. Cang Lanyan had drunk milk before without any issues, so if she was truly having an allergic reaction now, it could only be due to the cereal.

She immediately strode to the door, but when she turned the handle, she found it was locked. She called through the door, “Cang Lanyan? Are you feeling unwell? Do you have a rash? You might be allergic to the cereal. Let me in to check on you, okay?”

After a moment, a strained voice replied slowly, “No.”

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