Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!

Chapter 26: Chapter 26: Value

The space within the Ogre Academy rippled with the subtlety of a ghost’s breath as Qing’er manifested.

For a Saint-level expert, navigating the rudimentary defenses of a backwater institution was as simple as walking through a beaded curtain.

She didn’t need to search; she merely stood in the shadow of a stone pillar and let the ambient chatter of the students wash over her.

It took less than a minute for the name ”Chu Fang” to surface, whispered in tones of mockery by a passing group of disciples.

Blending perfectly into the architecture of the shadows, Qing’er made her way to the male dormitory.

She found him in his cramped bunk.

Chu Fang sat cross-legged, his eyes closed in deep concentration.

To a casual observer, he looked like any other mediocre student struggling with his breath.

But to Qing’er’s divine sense, the world was laid bare.

She watched as he began to circulate a cultivation technique that she found, at first, quite novel.

The Qi did not follow the standard celestial orbits or the balanced paths of the Five Elements, something no other Cultivation Technique she had seen.

But in the next instant, her brow furrowed in visceral disgust as she tracked the energy’s path.

The Qi surged through his veins, bypassed the higher spiritual centers, and swirled through his liver before settling with a concentrated, pulsing heat directly in his crotch.

Qing’er’s lip curled in disdain.

From that single observation, the nature of his cultivation technique was clear: a dual cultivation technique.

While the Central Region recognized that certain dual-path methods were legitimate—sharing Yin and Yang to reach the Dao—they were still heavily frowned upon by the orthodox elite.

Such techniques were the final refuge of desperate perverts and those so devoid of talent that they had to rely on the life-force of others to progress.

And this Chu Fang, with his shifty eyes and stagnant foundation, seemed to be the embodiment of both.

She thought of Huo Yue, that woman who suffered for three years yet retained the pride and arrogance of a genius, but also had the mature and gray outlook of the world.

She thought of Lin Feng, who, while looking lazy and sleazy, was able to discover the talent and potential of Huo Yue, and was incredibly cautious and smart.

She thought of Tang Shan, although he has misplaced arrogance and incredibly egocentric, at least he has some abilities, actually able to not immediately collapse from her young master’s pressure.

Then he looked at this Chu Fang... Are these four all really the same ’species’?

Just then, the silence of the room was broken as Chu Fang suddenly sat up as a triumphant, unsettling laugh escaped his throat.

To Qing’er’s mounting irritation, he actually reached down, opened his pants, and stared at himself with a look of manic glee.

Qing’er felt her cheek twitch, a rare crack in her icy composure.

What is there to be happy about? she thought, her mind instinctively comparing the pathetic sight to her own master.

Shen Haoran’s physique was a masterwork of the Heavens—toned, muscular, and carrying a divine weight, as if every inch of his skin had been perfectly sculpted by the gods from primordial jade.

To even look upon such a creature after seeing the Young Master was an insult to her eyes.

She watched from the darkness as Chu Fang composed himself, a smug, ”protagonist-like” smirk plastered on his face, before he adjusted his robes and hurried out of the dormitory.

He walked with a new, swaggering confidence, oblivious to the fact that a Saint was trailing him like a silent reaper.

Qing’er exhaled a silent, weary sigh.

This is going to be a long day, she mused, her hand resting briefly on the hilt of the concealed dagger at her waist.

If it were up to her, she would have ended this farce seconds ago—snapping his neck, extracting his soul, and presenting the ”Anomaly’s” memories to Haoran on a silver platter.

But her Young Master was a perfectionist who enjoyed watching the threads of fate tangle before he cut them.

Until the order came to execute, she was merely a shadow in the wake of a pervert.

*

*

*

The setting sun spilled through the sheer silk curtains of the royal guest suite, painting the mahogany floor in stripes of orange.

Shen Haoran sat at the edge of the bed, his back a canvas of lean, corded muscle that glowed like polished marble in the light.

He was completely naked, showing an unbothered, sovereign indifference to his nudity as he held a delicate porcelain teacup in one hand and an ancient leather-bound scroll in the other.

Behind him, cocooned in heavy embroidered blankets, Ning Xueli stirred.

Her skin had a translucent, glossy glow—the unmistakable mark of a woman who had just crossed the threshold into adulthood.

As she sat up, a sharp, lingering ache radiated from her lower body, traveling from her core down into her thighs.

Haoran had been thorough and demanding, his strength far beyond what her body was accustomed to, stretching her into positions that had tested the very limits of her flexibility.

She pulled the blanket tighter against her chest, her gaze fixed on the broad, steady line of Haoran’s shoulders.

The emotions swirling in her chest were a tangled, complex web. Did she hate him? Did she feel used because he had taken her virginity while explicitly stating he felt no obligation to be ”responsible” for her heart?

Strangely, she didn’t feel the weight of a loss.

In a world where power was the only true currency, she had traded something ephemeral for a chance at the sublime.

And if ever her path eventually diverged from his and she was forced to marry another for the sake of her clan, she would simply offer a silent apology to a future husband for her lack of ”purity.”

To her, the experience had been an awakening, a cold splash of reality that washed away the flowery illusions of her youth.

”How are you feeling?” Haoran asked. He didn’t turn around, his eyes remaining fixed on the cryptic characters of the book.

”Sore,” Xueli answered, her voice slightly raspy.

She was being honest; there was no point in playing the coy maiden with a man who had already seen every inch of her.

Haoran gave a curt, almost clinical nod. ”That’s normal.”

Xueli tilted her head, a stray thought crossing her mind.

Is it truly? In the romanticized novels shared among the female disciples of the academy, the ”morning after” was always portrayed as a dream of sweetness, tender whispers, and spiritual bliss.

There was never any mention of the bone-deep lethargy or the localized throbbing that made even shifting her weight a chore.

She cursed those authors in her heart for beautifying a physical act into something it wasn’t.

”By the way,” Haoran spoke again, his voice dropping into a more contemplative register. ”What do you think of that boy, Chu Fang?”

Xueli blinked, the sudden mention of the ”lazy junior” feeling jarring in the quiet of the room. ”Chu Fang? I think nothing in particular of him. He was a student I felt sorry for, nothing more. Why do you bring him up now?”

”What would you feel,” Haoran continued, finally setting the book down and taking a slow sip of tea, ”if he were to... disappear?”

”Nothing, I guess?” Xueli didn’t hesitate.

The protective instinct she had felt for the ”bullied” version of Chu Fang had been eroded by the unsettling, predatory look she had seen in his eyes at the library.

”Although it would bother me for a few days, it wouldn’t really affect me. It’s like caring for a single piece of grass, if it were to grow and spread, then good, if not, then it’s just a piece of grass. If he vanishes, it is simply the way of the world.”

”Is that so?” Haoran paused, his golden eyes narrowing as he stared at the wall.

In the cold, calculating theater of his mind, Haoran began to think of his experiences since he traveled to this backwater place.

He had already encountered three anomalies in this region.

Huo Yue was an important asset for him, her talent for alchemy and her connection to an ancient soul, and her future as the Flame Empress made her a perfect long-term investment.

Lin Feng, the System-bearer, was a useful beacon—a ”Protagonist Magnet” that would save Haoran the trouble of hunting.

Tang Shan and the Ogre Seven were the anchors for Ning Xueli, a way to ensure her loyalty without resorting to crude mental manipulation.

But this Chu Fang... he was different from the rest of the protagonist he had encountered.

He had no unique physique, no high-tier beast bloodline, no ancient soul master, and practically offered nothing to the ARC Foundation.

His only value lay in the memories of an ancient expert or a future expert, which he can easily extract like what his mother did with his cousin.

So basically, he has no value keeping alive.

’A soul without utility is just a pest that knows too much,’ Haoran thought.

So since he has no value alive, then he should at least offer his life for the greater good.

”Qing’er,” Haoran said softly, his voice carrying through the mental link. ”I’m done with the observation. Extract the memories and erase the source. Do it before the sun sets.”