The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 35

Cang Lanyan had always found the God’s words and actions contradictory.

She was clearly eager to break the spell, yet she vehemently rejected Cang Lanyan’s approach, her face and eyes radiating fear.

After several encounters, Cang Lanyan had grown accustomed to this behavior. She even found amusement in exploiting these contradictions to tease the God.

The “contradiction incarnate” herself, reminded by Cang Lanyan, finally broke free from her fear. She realized that resisting Cang Lanyan’s approach wouldn’t solve the problem.

Yin Ya steeled her resolve, swiftly threw back the blanket, and moved closer to Cang Lanyan. Reluctantly, she brushed aside her hair, exposing her still-flushed nape. Her mind began to race again.

An “examination”? She cast the spell herself! Has she already forgotten?

But when she felt Cang Lanyan’s gaze land on her, Yin Ya unconsciously tensed, her body rigid with alertness.

Though she had written down the rules, Cang Lanyan’s skill at exploiting loopholes was unparalleled. If anything went wrong, Yin Ya had to stop the Old Spirit from advancing further.

After a few seconds, Cang Lanyan said, “I can’t touch you. I can’t break the curse.”

So there really is a curse!

Yin Ya suppressed her anger, grinding her back teeth. She grabbed Cang Lanyan’s wrist, guiding her hand to touch the back of her neck.

“Will this finally do?” she snapped impatiently.

“…Not with your hand.”

Cang Lanyan’s reply shattered Yin Ya’s remaining patience.

Just thinking about what Cang Lanyan had done to the back of her neck then made Yin Ya’s blood boil.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” She flung Cang Lanyan’s hand away, glaring into those amber eyes. “You knew I’d immediately write down that rule, didn’t you? What do you even want?!”

If she understood correctly, this damned curse could only be broken if Cang Lanyan repeated the exact actions she had performed when casting it.

In other words, Yin Ya had to delete the rule she had written down, allowing Cang Lanyan to touch her in that way again, to break the curse.

But such an intimate act was reserved for couples on the verge of marriage or already married couples. Even childhood best friends wouldn’t dare cross that line. It was a blatant violation of boundaries!

Humiliation! This was nothing but blatant humiliation!

Cen Xiang was right. This Old Spirit was trying to force her straight!

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Nightlife outside the window had already begun. The noise and bustle of the big city faintly reached the 22nd floor.

Yin Ya turned on her bedside lamp.

The dim room inexplicably made Cang Lanyan seem more intimidating. She needed some light to bolster her courage.

As expected, Cang Lanyan’s expression barely changed. She showed no sign of apologizing or explaining her actions.

After a brief staring match, she calmly asked, “Do you still want to break the curse?”

Completely ignoring what had just happened?!

Yin Ya clenched her fists in anger, but the burning sensation in her neck persisted. At that moment, Cang Lanyan felt like the long summer vacation after final exams. Yin Ya not only wanted to embrace her immediately but also wished she could possess her for an eternity.

If she didn’t break the curse, she didn’t know if she could even sleep properly tonight.

In this critical moment, Yin Ya suddenly remembered the jellyfish she had carelessly fondled.

The conflict between her resentment, shame, and guilt erupted in her heart. Finally, she reached for the storage basket and shakily retrieved her phone.

After Yin Ya fell into the Jellyfish Trap, there were no real boundaries left between them, at least not physically.

To be honest, Yin Ya probably got the better end of the deal.

“Never. Again,” she said, enunciating each word clearly, and opened the settings document.

This time, Cang Lanyan didn’t approach, even keeping a safe distance.

Is she playing hard to get?

The phrase floated through Yin Ya’s mind as her fingers pressed the delete key, completely erasing the newly written prohibition.

But when she tried to save, the document froze and then automatically closed.

Yin Ya’s grip tightened on her phone.

She’d seen something similar before, but that time it was when she failed to delete passages about Cang Lanyan’s disappearance. She could explain that with the excuse of “being unable to break spacetime.” But this was just a simple behavioral prohibition. Why couldn’t she delete it?

Refusing to believe it, she bit her lip and reopened the document, trying to delete other rules. After three more attempts, she had to accept the truth.

“What’s wrong? You suddenly look terrible,” Cang Lanyan said, feigning concern at the worst possible moment.

“The rules I wrote down seem impossible to erase now,” Yin Yasheng said, closing her phone with a sense of resignation. She pressed a hand to her burning nape, unsure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. “I wrote them myself. This makes no sense…”

“It’s not entirely illogical,” Cang Lanyan countered calmly. “If rules could be changed or erased at any moment, they would lose all meaning.”

Yin Ya found her reasoning strangely compelling, but that wasn’t the point right now.

“If I don’t break this curse, will this happen every night?” she asked, her voice strained as she spoke of her body’s strange reactions in veiled terms.

“Correct,” Cang Lanyan replied, her expression still cold and serious as she nodded. “This curse is called ‘Merfolk’s Delight.’ It can only be written using the saliva of my kind. Every night, as darkness deepens, it activates on its own, stirring the cursed one’s longing for the caster.”

The unfamiliar name of the curse and its predictable effect made Yin Ya’s lips twitch.

But then she remembered that Cang Lanyan had been the one to bring her peaceful sleep last night. The Old Spirit had even admitted it earlier today. Frowning, she asked, “The rules were still in effect last night. What exactly did you do then?”

“Do you really want to know?” Cang Lanyan asked.

“Actually, I don’t,” Yin Ya immediately denied. “I just want to get a normal night’s sleep.”

Under Cang Lanyan’s skeptical gaze, she muttered an explanation: “There are only a few days left before school starts. I have morning classes, and the teacher takes attendance. I have to be on time, or my grades will suffer.”

“On time?” Cang Lanyan pressed.

“Classes start at nine,” Yin Ya said. “I need to be in the classroom before then to avoid being marked late.”

Cang Lanyan was silent for a moment before reaching out and placing her hand on the bed.

“Lie down,” she commanded.

Yin Ya looked at her in surprise. “What are you going to do?” she blurted out.

“Help you sleep,” Cang Lanyan replied, her expression remaining unchanged, not even a hint of a blush.

Yin Ya had been wary of her, but now she sensed a subtle shift in Cang Lanyan’s demeanor. It seemed she was deliberately keeping her distance, unlike during the day when she had been trying to get closer.

For some reason, Yin Ya now felt that Cang Lanyan simply wanted to help her solve her problem, without any ulterior motives.

She wasn’t sure why she felt this way, but with the ban still in place, she had no choice but to try anything.

After giving herself a mental pep talk, she obediently lay back down and pulled the blanket up to her neck.

The next moment, the faint scent of mint filled the air as Cang Lanyan settled beside her, squeezing into the narrow upper bunk.

Yin Ya tensed immediately, inching closer to the wall. Then she felt a gentle pressure on the base of her spine. Even through the thick, fuzzy pajamas, a tingling sensation spread through her.

“Relax,” Cang Lanyan murmured in her ear. “Remember, I can’t do anything right now.”

Yin Ya gripped the blanket tightly as Cang Lanyan began to stroke her spine with gentle, soothing motions, like petting a small animal.

Cang Lanyan’s usually icy palms had somehow warmed. As she continued to stroke, Yin Ya could feel the warmth gradually spreading across her back, sinking into her organs.

In the few days they’d spent together, Yin Ya had never seen Cang Lanyan so gentle. Based on their interactions, she’d always thought the Old Spirit was cunning, heartless, and completely lacking in empathy. “Considerate” and “understanding” were the last words she’d use to describe her.

Yet now, Cang Lanyan was slowly easing her unbearable loneliness.

Yin Ya felt the mint scent softly envelop her, and sleep tugged at her eyelids. But she didn’t want to drift off just yet.

“Why did you cast this spell on me?” Yin Ya asked, her voice strained but defiant.

“You don’t need to know,” Cang Lanyan replied stiffly from behind.

“You’ve already dug up all my secrets. What’s left that I can’t know?” Yin Ya retorted, deliberately trying to provoke her. “Cang Lanyan, I never thought you’d be afraid of anything!”

The Merfolk behind her fell silent. Yin Ya wondered if she had struck a nerve, if Cang Lanyan was hiding something. Then Cang Lanyan warned, “You’d better go to sleep.”

“And if I don’t?” Yin Ya challenged, emboldened by the fact that Cang Lanyan was bound by an unbreakable prohibition.

In the next instant, the pressure on her back intensified. Before she could react, Cang Lanyan had flipped her over with one hand, slamming her face into something soft and covering her forehead with an icy chill.

The mint scent intensified, so overpowering it nearly suffocated her. She instinctively struggled, but Cang Lanyan quickly pinned her arms and legs, all without removing her sleepwear.

Only then did Yin Ya realize with a jolt that the Guardian God before her had long been written as a God of War. In terms of physical strength, she stood no chance.

Moreover, the prohibition only prevented Cang Lanyan from initiating contact. If Yin Ya initiated contact instead, the rules wouldn’t apply.

“Think about it again,” a calm yet stern female voice whispered close to Yin Ya’s ear.

Yin Ya immediately backed down, ready to surrender, but then she noticed the heartbeat nearby was unusually rapid.

She had never heard a heartbeat this fast before. Even when she had taken Cang Lanyan’s pulse earlier, Cang Lanyan’s heart hadn’t been beating this quickly. Unable to resist, she pressed her ear closer.

But before she could listen for more than a few seconds, a strong force yanked her away. Darkness enveloped her as the blanket was ruthlessly pulled over her head.

Yin Ya struggled to poke her head out for air. Once she caught her breath, she complained, “What was that for? Your heart’s beating abnormally fast. What’s wrong with me listening for a bit longer?”

“What’s it to you if my heart’s beating abnormally fast?” Cang Lanyan retorted coldly.

“I…” Yin Ya couldn’t think of a good reason on the spot. Or rather, the real reason she had done it wasn’t something she could tell Cang Lanyan.

But she refused to back down so easily. Her quick mind raced, and she decided to play it mysterious. “Oh~ I get it now,” she drawled, deliberately dragging out the words.

Only when Cang Lanyan’s icy glare pierced her did she slowly continue, “This abnormal heartbeat of yours… it must have some subtle connection to me.”

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