Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 961: Smacking Hua Yimei

The damp, cold air of the secluded cavern suddenly ignited with a blinding, fervent heat. Wang Jian, having thoroughly broken the body of the Fragrance Melody Sect Leader over three days and nights of relentless conquest, now shifted the rhythm of his spiritual energy. He did not withdraw. Instead, he locked his body against hers and mentally roared, reversing the flow of the Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture.

Instead of devouring her Yin essence as he had been doing to fuel his own pleasure and stamina, he opened the floodgates of his dantian. A massive, concentrated torrent of refined, potent energy—a mixture of his Stellar Qi and the residual, holy power of the Golden-Flame Essence Fruit he had consumed months ago—surged out of him. It poured into Hua Yimei’s womb like a river of liquid gold, rushing through her exhausted meridians with the force of a breaking dam.

Hua Yimei’s body arched violently off the stone slab, a silent scream etched on her face. Her eyes flew open, glowing with a terrifying golden light. The energy was too much, too fast, but it was exactly what her shattered body needed. The golden light flooded her veins, visible through her translucent, sweat-slicked skin.

Where the light touched, miracles occurred. Her shattered ribs knitted together with audible cracks of bone resetting. The meridians that had been damaged by the Crimson Shark’s bone anchor and further strained by the aphrodisiac purge reattached and widened, reinforced by the tyrannical solar nature of Wang Jian’s Qi. The bruises on her creamy skin faded, leaving behind a luster that looked like polished jade.

But the energy did not stop at healing. It surged into her dantian, crashing against the bottleneck that had held her at the Early Stage of the Core Formation Realm for a decade. That barrier, already weakened by her years of accumulation, stood no chance against the raw, high-grade fuel Wang Jian was pumping into her.

CRACK.

A sound like a breaking glacier echoed within her soul.

The bottleneck shattered.

BOOM!

A physical shockwave of spiritual pressure blasted outward from her body, knocking over the stone lamps in the cave and sending dust raining down from the ceiling. The air pressure in the cavern dropped instantly as a vortex of ambient Qi rushed into her body to stabilize the breakthrough.

Hua Yimei gasped, her body collapsing back onto the slab, her chest heaving. She felt... incredible. The pain was gone. Her spiritual perception had doubled. Her core was spinning with a vigor she hadn’t felt in years. She had reached the Middle Stage of the Core Formation Realm.

She lay there, panting, the golden glow slowly fading from her skin. Her mind began to clear, the fog of pain and exhaustion lifting. And as clarity returned, so did memory.

She remembered the humiliation. The pain. The degradation. She remembered the man who had forced this upon her under the guise of necessity.

She turned her head. Wang Jian was standing a few feet away, buttoning his trousers, looking at her with a calm, almost bored expression. He looked vulnerable. He was just a Foundation Establishment cultivator, and she... she was now a Middle Stage Core Formation expert.

A murderous, incandescent rage exploded in her heart.

”I will kill you!” Hua Yimei shrieked, sitting up. Her aura flared, wild and uncontrolled. ”Wang Jian! You beast! You defiled me!”

She raised her hand. The air in the cave condensed into a razor-sharp blade of wind, humming with the power of her new realm. She lunged at him, swinging her arm to sever his head from his shoulders.

Wang Jian didn’t dodge. He didn’t draw his sword. He didn’t even look afraid.

He simply stepped forward, invading her space before she could fully extend the attack, and swung his hand.

SMACK.

His palm connected hard with her curvy, bare buttocks. The sound was as loud as a whip crack in the enclosed space.

Hua Yimei froze mid-lunge. The wind blade in her hand dissipated into harmless breeze. Her knees suddenly felt like water. A jolt of electricity shot up her spine, and to her absolute horror, a treacherous, wet heat flooded her lower regions.

Her body, conditioned relentlessly for three days and nights to associate his touch and his discipline with intense sensation, betrayed her. The instinct he had carved into her flesh overrode her conscious mind.

She collapsed onto her knees, gasping, clutching her stomach. ”Ah...!”

Suddenly, her Qi rebelled. The golden energy Wang Jian had infused into her didn’t just sit there; it spiked. A sharp, burning pain, like a thousand hot needles, shot through her dantian and locked her meridians.

”What... what did you do to me?” she gasped, looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength she had just felt was gone, locked away behind a wall of pain.

Wang Jian stood over her, adjusting his robes, looking like a god judging a sinner.

”I told you, Sect Leader,” he said, his voice smooth and devoid of empathy. ”My Stellar Yang Qi is potent. It is not just energy; it is a seed. It is now a fundamental part of your foundation.”

He crouched down, bringing his face level with hers.

”Your breakthrough is artificial,” he lied, his eyes locking onto hers with hypnotic intensity. ”It relies on my energy to sustain it. The structural integrity of your new realm is built on my power, not yours. Without a monthly infusion of my essence... the structure will collapse.”

Hua Yimei’s face went white. ”Collapse?”

”Your meridians will shatter,” Wang Jian stated coldly. ”Your dantian will implode. You won’t just fall back to the Early Stage; you will lose your cultivation entirely. You will become a cripple. A mortal woman with a face that could topple kingdoms.”

He let that sink in.

”And if you are a cripple... who protects Hua Ling? Who protects the Fragrance Melody Sect? The Crimson Shark will return. And without you... you will both become playthings for the demonic cultivators. Is that what you want?”

The checkmate was absolute. Hua Yimei stared at him, the murder in her eyes replaced by a dawning, horrific realization. She couldn’t kill him. She couldn’t even hurt him. Her life, her power, her daughter’s safety... it all depended on his ’infusion.’

”You... you monster,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

”Monster?” Wang Jian scoffed. He reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her face up to his. ”You wanted to kill your savior? After I worked so hard for three days to heal you? After I exhausted myself to give you this power?”

He spun her around roughly, forcing her to face the wall, and delivered another hard, stinging smack to her bare buttocks.

SMACK.

”Ah!” Hua Yimei yelped, tears of humiliation springing to her eyes. She was a Sect Leader, a woman of status and dignity. No one had ever treated her like this. No one had ever dared.

”Your daughter’s safety depends on my mood and your compliance, Yimei,” Wang Jian said coldly.

As he spoke, his hands moved. He reached around and cupped her large, heavy breasts. He fondled them possessively, squeezing the soft flesh, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples. He showed absolutely no fear of her superior cultivation. He treated her body like property he had bought and paid for.

Hua Yimei trembled. Every instinct screamed at her to blast him away, to burn him to ash. But the image of Hua Ling trapped on that island, and the terrifying threat of becoming a cripple, forced her to freeze. She had to endure it. She had to submit.

”Testing the leash,” Wang Jian whispered in her ear. ”Say it. Thank me.”

She stayed silent, biting her lip until it bled, her body shaking with suppressed rage and shame.

SMACK.

He hit her again, harder this time, leaving a red handprint on her white skin.

”I said, thank me.”

She broke. The reality of her situation crushed her pride into dust.

”Thank... thank you...” she whispered, her voice barely audible. ”Thank you... Deacon Wang.”

”Wrong,” he corrected sharply, pinching her nipple painfully. ”In private, you call me Master.”

Hua Yimei squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears leaking out. She surrendered.

”Thank you... Master.”

Wang Jian smiled. He released her, stepping back.

”Good. Now, cover yourself. We cannot have the Sect Leader looking like a common whore, can we?”

He threw a set of fresh robes he had prepared—elegant, high-collared robes that hid the bruises and the bite marks—onto the stone slab.

Hua Yimei scrambled to grab them. She dressed with frantic haste, her hands shaking, desperate to hide her shame, desperate to cover the body that had betrayed her. She begged Wang Jian with her eyes to keep this secret, to never let anyone know what she had become.

Once she was fully dressed and had composed her face into a mask of icy dignity, Wang Jian turned toward the corner of the cave.

”Teacher?” he called out softly. ”Teacher, are you awake?”

In the shadows, Mu Lianhua stirred. She groaned, feigning a deep grogginess as she sat up, rubbing her temples.

”Sect Leader? Jian?” Mu Lianhua blinked, looking between them with feigned confusion. ”What... what happened? How long was I out?”

Hua Yimei flinched. She looked at Mu Lianhua, her friend, the woman she respected. The shame burned in her gut. She couldn’t tell her. She couldn’t let anyone know.

”Nothing... Sister Mu,” Hua Yimei said, her voice brittle. She adjusted her collar, hiding a love bite on her neck. ”Deacon Wang... he healed me. He used a secret technique to stabilize my injuries.”

Wang Jian smiled kindly at Mu Lianhua, the picture of a dutiful disciple. ”The Sect Leader had a breakthrough, Teacher. It was... intense. The energy surge must have kept you suppressed in your healing trance. It seems your injuries kept you asleep for three days.”

”Three days?” Mu Lianhua gasped, standing up and dusting off her robes. ”The Thundering Amber Isle! We must go!”

”Have you recovered, Teacher?” Wang Jian asked, concern etched on his face.

”I have,” Mu Lianhua nodded, her eyes flashing with a cold, acted determination. ”My spirit is stable. And I swear, Jian, Sect Leader... this time I will not be caught in a trap. I will fight with my full strength from the start. Those demonic cultivators will burn.”

”Good,” Wang Jian said calmly. He turned to the entrance of the cave. ”Prepare yourself, Sect Leader. We have Junior Sister Ling’er to save.”

Hua Yimei nodded stiffly. She followed Wang Jian out of the cave. To any observer, she walked with the dignity of a Sect Leader. But Wang Jian knew the truth. She walked a step behind him, her head slightly lowered, her heart burning with hate but her soul chained by fear. She was his.

The return to Thundering Amber Isle was swift. The atmosphere on the small rock island had shifted from desperation to impending doom.

For three days, Old Monster Crimson Shark and his horde of demonic cultivators had pounded against the Phoenix-Fire Defensive Array. The barrier was flickering, cracks appearing in the energy dome. Inside the cave, Hua Ling and the surviving disciples were huddled together, their spiritual energy nearly exhausted from maintaining the formation.

”It’s over,” a disciple sobbed. ”The shield is failing.”

”Hold on!” Hua Ling cried, though her own hands were trembling. ”My mother... she will come.”

Outside, the Crimson Shark laughed, raising his massive bone anchor. ”One last strike, boys! Crack the egg and eat the yolk!”

He gathered his Qi for a final, crushing blow.

Suddenly, a piercing note cut through the thunder of the storm.

ZING!

A wave of golden sonic energy, shaped like a soaring phoenix, blasted out of the clouds. It struck the rear guard of the shark riders, vaporizing them in an instant.

Crimson Shark spun around, his eyes widening. ”What?!”

Descending from the sky were three figures. Wang Jian, Mu Lianhua, and Sect Leader Hua Yimei.

But this was not the injured, fleeing Hua Yimei from three days ago.

Hua Yimei floated in the air, her robes billowing. Her aura was terrifyingly vast, stable, and oppressive. The pressure of a Middle-Stage Core Formation cultivator rolled off her like a tsunami.

”You dare try to harm my daughter?!” Hua Yimei screamed, channeling all her trauma, her shame, and her rage into her Zither.

She plucked the strings with a violence that drew blood from her fingertips.

”Nine-Phoenix Requiem: World of Crying Flames!”

The sound waves materialized as nine massive firebirds. They swooped down, shrieking. The ocean boiled. The shark mounts of the demonic cultivators exploded as the sonic vibrations liquefied their organs.

Dozens of Foundation Establishment deacons were incinerated instantly. The sheer power of a Middle-Stage expert, wielding a weapon enhanced by Phoenix Fire Wood, was catastrophic.

”Middle Stage?!” Crimson Shark gasped, backing away. ”Impossible! She was dying three days ago!”

Before he could recover, Mu Lianhua made her move.

”No traps this time,” she said coldly.

She didn’t summon her cauldron. She opened her mouth and exhaled.

A stream of blue and gold fire—the Azure Sky Heart Phoenix Flame—shot out. It expanded into a sea of fire that covered the sky.

”Burn.”

The flame descended. It didn’t just burn; it purified. The blood-arts of the demonic cultivators fizzled out of existence. The water-chains and poison formations Su Ning had set up (and now deactivated remotely) were swept away.

The Blood-Maw Megalodon, Crimson Shark’s prized beast, roared as the blue fire touched its skin. It thrashed, its regenerative abilities halted by the holy attribute of the flame.

Crimson Shark realized the situation instantly. He was facing a powered-up Sect Leader and a mysterious Alchemist whose flames were the bane of his existence.

”Retreat!” he roared, abandoning his subordinates without a second thought. He bit his tongue, spraying blood onto a talisman. ”Blood-Flash Escape!”

He turned into a red streak of light, shooting towards the horizon.

”Coward!” Hua Yimei shouted. She plucked a single, final string. A focused lance of sound chased him.

It struck the fleeing red light. A scream echoed from the distance, and blood rained down into the sea, but the Old Monster managed to escape, albeit grievously wounded.

With their leader gone and their heavy hitters dead, the demonic horde routed. They scattered into the depths, fleeing the wrath of the two women.

On the island, the barrier flickered and died as Chen Ying lowered it.

Hua Ling stumbled out of the cave, blinking in the sudden light. She saw the carnage. She saw the floating figures.

”Mother!” she cried, her voice cracking.

Hua Yimei descended. She landed on the beach and rushed to her daughter.

”Ling’er!”

They collided in a frantic embrace. Hua Yimei held her daughter tight, burying her face in Hua Ling’s hair, weeping openly. She squeezed her, checking for injuries, her heart breaking and healing all at once. She had saved her. The price had been her body, her dignity, and her freedom... but she had saved her.

Wang Jian landed a few paces away. He stood silently, watching the reunion. His face wore a mask of gentle relief.

Hua Ling pulled back from her mother slightly, looking over Hua Yimei’s shoulder. She saw Wang Jian. Her eyes lit up with absolute adoration. She mouthed the words, ’Thank you.’

Hua Yimei saw her daughter’s gaze. She stiffened. Slowly, terrified, she turned her head to look at Wang Jian.

She met his eyes.

Wang Jian smirked. It was a small, almost imperceptible curling of his lips, but to Hua Yimei, it was louder than a shout. It was a reminder of the cave. Of the smacks. Of the ’Master’.

She shuddered violently, a chill running through her marrow despite her new power.

”Let us go home,” Hua Yimei whispered, her voice hollow.

The return to the Fragrance Melody Sect was a triumph. The entire sect turned out to welcome them. Flower petals rained from the sky. Music played.

”Long live the Sect Leader! Long live Elder Mu! Long live Deacon Wang!”

A grand banquet was held that night. The sect celebrated the Sect Leader’s miraculous breakthrough to the Middle Stage and the safe return of the Young Mistress. Wine flowed freely.

Wang Jian sat at the high table, flanked by Yue Lingshan and Mu Lianhua. He accepted toasts, played the humble hero, and held his wife’s hand.

But his eyes were fixed on the throne.

Hua Yimei sat there, stiff and pale beneath her makeup. She smiled when required, but her eyes were haunted. She could still feel the phantom sensation of his hands on her body. She could feel the ’Stellar Yang Qi’ pulsing inside her, a ticking clock that bound her to him.

Later that night, Wang Jian stood on the balcony of the Cloud-Peak Pavilion. The sounds of the celebration were dying down.

He swirled a glass of wine, looking out at the darkened Orchid Palace.

He had won. He had removed the rivals. He had secured the loyalty of the daughter. And he had broken the mother, chaining her with a lie she dared not test.

’The daughter’s heart is mine,’ he thought, taking a sip. ’The mother’s body is mine.’

He smiled into the darkness.

”The flower is plucked,” he whispered. ”Now, to enjoy the fragrance forever.”