The Villain I Loved Has Broken Free and Transmigrated Out of the Story - Chapter 46

Yin Ya’s first thought was that Cang Lanyan had actually read her novel and was imitating her male protagonist!

But it was precisely because of this possibility that she instantly fell into a panic.

She had originally thought that Cang Lanyan’s intimate actions towards her served two purposes: first, to study those unfamiliar emotions, and second, to act as her Guardian God, helping her resolve her emotional block and escape the bonds of the Heart-Image Illusion Realm.

However…

However, Cang Lanyan’s actions were far too intimate, likely surpassing the boundaries of pure research.

Even more terrifying was the thought that if she took this seriously, she would undoubtedly be the one hurt in the end.

Having only recently regained the Seven Emotions and Six Desires, Cang Lanyan was like a growing child. To put it in another way, she understood love even less than her clan members who were obsessed with romance.

Yin Ya instantly gripped her quilt, covering the Curse on the back of her neck as turbulent emotions churned and tangled in her mind.

Perhaps… the moment she failed to stop Cang Lanyan from casting “Merfolk’s Delight” on her, she had already fallen, body and soul.

Yin Ya wasn’t sure about Cang Lanyan’s feelings toward her, yet she was steadily falling into the trap Cang Lanyan had meticulously woven.

But why was Cang Lanyan doing this? What was her ultimate goal? Yin Ya had been incredibly accommodating, practically granting every request and even revealing her author’s secret identity to that old spirit. What could Cang Lanyan possibly want that could only be achieved through a romantic relationship?

Over the next half-hour, Yin Ya waged an internal battle against the conflicting voices in her head.

She initially considered messaging Cen Xiang, but after recalling yesterday’s advice and today’s conversation, she quietly exited WeChat. After a long struggle, she mustered the courage to open an anonymous forum and began drafting a post.

Help!

My roommate, a woman I’ve lived with for less than a week, has started acting very intimate with me, following the playbook of a romance novel protagonist. Does this mean she wants to start a relationship?

Yin Ya hit send after writing the title, completely forgetting to add any details in the main post, perhaps because it was her first time posting a personal question on an anonymous forum and she was feeling confused.

Fortunately, the forum’s high traffic meant someone quickly responded to the title.

“It looks like you’re into guys. First, figure out her orientation.”

“Is this some new social trend? I suggest you find a chance to tell her: ‘Metal, wood, water, fire, you; rice, flour, you, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, tea.'”

“What if she’s just a crafty straight girl <doge> who thinks you’re too cute and is deliberately teasing you? She probably just wants to get closer to you quickly.”

“If you really can’t figure out what she wants, move out fast. You have to protect yourself!”

“If she doesn’t say anything, and you’re not interested in dating, don’t overthink it. If she’s trying to force you into a relationship and toy with your feelings, dump this roommate with bad character as soon as possible. Are you saving her for next year?”

“Is she good-looking? If she’s hot, let me remind you: don’t be a coward! You have nothing to lose by trying!”

“…”

Seeing the wild variety of responses, Yin Ya felt even more confused.

What on earth is all this?!

After thanking the helpful netizens, she quickly exited the forum, turned up the volume on her instrumental music, and switched her document to full-screen mode, trying to refocus on her writing.

Unfortunately, this scene was a crucial interaction between the male and female leads, focusing on comfort and affection. Yin Ya’s mind was completely in disarray; no matter how she tried to write it, something felt wrong. Several times, the male lead’s tone, demeanor, and catchphrases nearly merged with Cang Lanyan’s.

After struggling for a full hour, Yin Ya finally tore off her headphones in frustration and deleted everything she had written during that time.

They had clearly shared their deepest secrets: Cang Lanyan knew Yin Ya’s author pseudonym, and Yin Ya had uncovered the true reason behind Cang Lanyan’s hatred for the Creator God. Moreover, Yin Ya didn’t recoil from being touched by Cang Lanyan or eating food she had partially consumed.

So why did the thought of Cang Lanyan genuinely wanting to pursue a romantic relationship with her cause such profound discomfort?

Her emotions were in turmoil, and a heavy ache settled in her lower abdomen. She instinctively curled up under the blankets, wrapping herself tightly and clutching her stomach as she bit her lip.

Amidst the chaos, a faint realization surfaced: she should have known the answer all along.

But this answer… just as she refused to tell anyone about her homosexuality, she was unwilling to confront it, let alone know how to face it.

Or perhaps she had no control over it at all.

Amidst the chaos and pain, Yin Ya closed her eyes wearily.

In her dazed state, she felt the curse on the back of her neck inexplicably grow warm.

When her vision cleared and she found herself in the familiar Deep Sea, Yin Ya looked down at the chains on her fish tail and slowly calmed down.

So it wasn’t just at night—falling asleep at any time could trigger the Dream Realm.

Being able to hide in dreams during emotional breakdowns wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

If only she were the only one in this dream, it would be even better.

“Why are you here?” she snapped at the merfolk swimming toward her.

“I’m the Curse Caster of Merfolk’s Delight,” Cang Lanyan replied, her fish tail circling around Yin Ya’s body as she embraced her from behind. “Naturally, I know when you enter the Dream Realm. I read online that people on their period are more emotionally unstable and irritable, so I came to check on you.”

“Have you forgotten what you said last night?” Yin Ya asked darkly. “You said that except for when you’re soothing my Merfolk’s Delight, we need to keep our distance. But you’ve already broken that rule multiple times.”

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t the only one who violated the agreement,” Cang Lanyan said. “Besides, I’ve only recently learned a saying among the Human Race: ‘Blocking is worse than letting flow.’ Moreover, suppressing desires can be harmful to the body.”

“You…” Yin Ya turned to stare into Cang Lanyan’s eyes. Seeing her gaze still clear and innocent, Yin Ya’s calm unraveled. “Then let me ask you this: Why exactly are you so close to me? What’s your true purpose?”

“None of your business,” Cang Lanyan shook her head. Before Yin Ya could protest, she continued, “Or rather, I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know your own objective?” Yin Ya didn’t believe it.

“The so-called ‘objective’ only exists when there’s a clear direction,” Cang Lanyan said. “Firstly, I haven’t yet determined a clear direction for this matter. Secondly, the original purpose of using Merfolk’s Delight on you has become obsolete. Now that I’m only responsible for soothing the curse for you, there’s nothing more to say. As for wanting to be close to you…”

Before she could finish, she suddenly felt the person in her arms struggle to free themselves.

“If you want to understand those ‘extraneous emotions,’ I can help you,” Yin Ya said, tightening her grip on the chains beside her, her voice turning icy. “But… you can’t use my feelings for you as an excuse to trample over them in every possible way!”

“So you think I’m trampling over your feelings?” Cang Lanyan frowned.

“What else would it be?” Yin Ya retorted. “Cang Lanyan, tell me clearly, what exactly is your attitude towards me now? Is it the pity and redemption a Guardian God shows to its ‘believers’? Are you treating me as a subject for your emotional research? Or…”

“Wait a minute,” Cang Lanyan interrupted. “Does your period really affect your emotions that much? Ever since I entered this place, you’ve been bombarding me with questions—all sorts of bizarre, nonsensical questions.”

“I’m not asking nonsensical questions!” Yin Ya raised her voice. “I just want to know, after last night’s Dream Realm experience, why are you suddenly being so attentive to me?”

“Care for you?” Cang Lanyan’s frown deepened. “I was just following my instincts. If something made me feel joy, I did it. Besides, you didn’t reject me those few times, so I thought it was acceptable.”

“…So you were simply pursuing joy?” Yin Ya’s heart sank, as if a stone had fallen, yet at the same time, she felt the emptiness in her heart that hadn’t been filled.

“Perhaps,” Cang Lanyan said, raising her hand again to gently stroke Yin Ya’s loose black hair. “Even if I wanted to give you a detailed explanation, I’m truly sorry, but I can’t yet understand these complex emotions.”

She paused. “If you feel uncomfortable, you must tell me immediately.”

Hearing this response, Yin Ya felt like she’d punched a wad of cotton, her spirit deflating instantly.

So it had all been her own delusion, making things difficult for a former villain who was clumsily learning about emotions and desires based on instinct.

“Is understanding emotions and desires really that difficult?” she asked softly, still somewhat unwilling to accept it.

“If I were like you, never having been stripped of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires, understanding them might not be so difficult,” Cang Lanyan explained calmly. “But I’ve been detached from that state for over a thousand years, without anyone to converse with. Even if I still retain memories of understanding emotions from my youth, I can’t quickly discern and apply them properly.”

“I’m sorry,” Yin Ya apologized in a small voice.

“It’s alright,” Cang Lanyan replied, her hand sliding down the strands of hair to rest on Yin Ya’s back as she pulled her into a hug again. “I was too impulsive.”

Realizing she had misunderstood Yin Ya, Yin Ya didn’t resist this time. As she settled into the embrace, she suggested, “Let’s not fade those memories from earlier. I’m afraid if I forget, I’ll get angry at you again over the same thing.”

“Then we must quickly resolve these shackles,” Cang Lanyan said, casually brushing the chains. “Otherwise, the sensations will linger. It’s still vacation, so the soreness can be eased by rest. But if classes start, it could interfere with your studies.”

After receiving no response from Yin Ya, Cang Lanyan abruptly changed the subject. “Perhaps I’ll explain it to you again after we leave the Dream Realm.”

“…You’re really becoming less like a villain,” Yin Ya murmured.

“I haven’t seen you portray me as utterly ruthless and evil,” Cang Lanyan chuckled softly. “So? Do you want to leave immediately, or take this chance to relax?”

Her last words instantly silenced the request that was about to leave Yin Ya’s lips.

“Now that you’ve chosen to accept this, you must learn to understand it,” Cang Lanyan murmured, leaning close to Yin Ya’s ear as she always did. “Besides, this is the Dream Realm. As long as you fade the memories, you won’t carry any of these sensations back to the waking world.”

“You’re at it again!” Yin Ya couldn’t help but snap. “Every time I think you’re a ‘righteous gentleman’ and try to trust you, you quickly reveal your true nature.”

“Is that so?” Cang Lanyan released her grip, her laughter fading slightly. “Then this time, I’ll be a proper ‘righteous gentleman’. I won’t remind you, I won’t persuade you. You can choose for yourself.”

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