The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

"…Eh?"

Bai Yujian did not repeat herself.

Zhu Qing blinked.

Then… she chuckled. "Oh, Elder… I don't think you understand," she muttered, "That brat's knowledge of formations is better than mine."

She leaned back, "Why are you handing him to me? What could I possibly teach him?" She sighed, shaking her head.

She had seen it—back in Chi Xie wasteland. He knew ancient arrays. Arrays that he should not have known.

A small frown formed on her lips. And beyond all else…

She didn't want to get too close to him.

That damn blood of his.

That damn presence of his.

She didn't want to wake up in his bed one day, unsure of whether it was seduction or fate.

But Bai Yujian's eyes held a calm amusement.

"If you cannot teach him…" she said softly. "Then learn from him."

Zhu Qing's fingers paused. She blinked.

Then—

A low, elegant laugh escaped her lips, a sound both mischievous and deadly. "That little villain…" she whispered. "I was planning to let him go…But now?"

"Now, I suppose… I should teach him a lesson."

Bai Yujian paid no heed to their rivalry, her gaze drifted. Her expression darkened. "Be careful of Zhao Tianxuan."

Zhu Qing tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Does his opinion… truly matter?"

Bai Yujian shook her head.

It had always been these two.
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Once, they climbed together.

Then—She stagnated.

And Zhao Tianxuan rose.

Then his ambitions changed.

He wanted her.

And then, mysteriously, he called off the wedding. What Bai Yujian did not know— Was that Zhu Qing had ended it first. Now that she had broken through…

Would he see her as a threat?

Would he try to bury her before she surpassed him?

Bai Yujian was not sure. But ambitious men never liked competition.

Zhu Qing sipped her wine, her voice light as a whisper, "Elder… if there is one person I would be truly wary of…It is that old medic."

Bai Yujian's eyes narrowed. "Xu Tianran?"

"Mm."

Zhu Qing's smile was sweet… but her gaze was cold.

"That man gives off a scent I do not like." She traced the rim of her cup, voice gentle as silk. "Like something… watching. Waiting. Biding its time."

Bai Yujian did not speak.

But deep in her heart…

A shadow of a doubt had already begun to form.

For years, Bai Yujian had put off breaking into the Human Immortal Realm. Always a war to fight, always a fire to put out. But after that royal palace visit, hesitation wasn't just a chain—it was a noose. If she didn't break through, the empire would grind them into dust beneath its heel. And with the Golden Buddha Sect worming its way deeper into the land, the scent of slaughter was already on the wind.

Her thoughts knotted, pulled in a dozen directions, tangled beyond reason—

Knock. Knock.

Her gaze snapped to the door.

A man stepped inside. Broad shoulders, long blond hair spilling past them. Dark eyes shadowed, jaw set like a blade too long left in its sheath.

"Liu Zhenhai." Bai Yujian's stare was cool, voice even. "What do you need?"

Hiss!

His jaw tightened. Why the hell was she always so distant?

Why was it that when she spoke to him, it was duty, cold and precise—but with Su Xiaobai, her words were loose and careless.

Liu Zhenhai's expression stayed calm, but his fists curled as he cupped his hands and bowed. "Elder, I request permission to challenge Su Xiaobai in the duel two weeks from now, on behalf of... Sword Peak."

Bai Yujian's fingers, resting on the table, paused.

Across the room, Zhu Qing exhaled a slow laugh, her lips curling at the edges.

"What…?" Bai Yujian's voice was flat, but beneath it, disbelief twisted.

The bet was set in stone—Dissenting Peak Lord's brats would fight Su Xiaobai, and if he won, he'd jump ranks straight into the inner court. That was all. Simple. But now, one of her own was stepping in?

Liu Zhenhai had already set up an ambush against Su Xiaobai. And now this?

Bai Yujian's irritation crackled, but before she could cut him down with words, a soft chuckle echoed.

Zhu Qing, fingers idly tracing the rim of her wine cup, tilted her head. "Elder, Su Xiaobai has already qualified for the inner court. His puppet has reached the Nascent Soul Realm… why not let him join the fun?"

Bai Yujian's gaze flicked to her. Zhu Qing only smiled, eyes lazy, but confident beneath the haze of wine.

Silence stretched. Then, a sigh. A slow nod.

Liu Zhenhai's lips curled—just a fraction—before he bowed three times and left without another word.

He would repay today's humiliation a hundredfold... carved into flesh, branded into bone.

Bai Yujian exhaled, watching his figure disappear. Something unreadable flickered behind her gaze.

"…What's going on?" she muttered, half to herself.

These two were going to kill each other at this rate. Liu Zhenhai was ranked eighth in the inner court. Against Su Xiaobai, it wasn't a duel—it was a goddamn execution.

Was this because of today's humiliation?

Or something worse?

"Elder, stop pretending," Zhu Qing murmured, her voice smooth.

Bai Yujian's eyes slid to her. "Pretending what?"

Zhu Qing chuckled, her voice amused, but colder than before. "His jealousy."

Bai Yujian stilled, her brows drawing together for a fraction of a second before she exhaled and shook her head.

"…Short-sighted fool."

If Liu Zhenhai thought challenging Su Xiaobai would impress her, then he was a lost cause. If he truly wanted to stand out, he should rise above, shatter his limits, carve his name into the heavens.

Instead, he was throwing a tantrum like some lovesick fool, trying to solve his grievances with a sword rather than his own damned cultivation.

As for Su Xiaobai…

Bai Yujian's fingers tapped against the table again, slow, thoughtful. She wasn't sure about him either. And now that the thought had been planted, her frown only deepened.

What the hell was she supposed to do about it?

_______

Xiantian Sect, Mystic Peak – Midnight!

Crack…

A branch snapped beneath his step. Su Xiaobai froze. The silence that followed was too deep, too unnatural—as if the mountain itself had turned its gaze upon him.

What kind of sick bastard lived here?

Mystic Peak. A domain of grand formations, where the very air thrummed with ancient enchantments. A place where one wrong step wouldn't just kill you—it'd erase the last ten generations of your bloodline out of sheer spite.

And yet, this was the road to Peak Lord Zhu Qing's residence.

A shortcut to greatness? Or a one-way trip to the underworld? Hard to tell.

Su Xiaobai crept forward, placing each step with the reverence of a man defusing a spirit bomb. If not for the senior sister down below warning him, he would've already died a hundred times over.

"Don't leave the path," she had said. "Not unless you want to meet the things that never left it."

Vines slithered through the undergrowth, their movements just a little too deliberate. The scent of crushed spirit herbs filled the air—earthy and bitter. In the faint glow of the moon, a cluster of Phantom Orchids shook in ghostly hues, their petals gently swaying.

Beneath them, half-buried in the roots, lay a row of skulls. Above him, something buzzed. A shadow flitted past.

A hell-bee.

The size of his goddamn head.

He forced himself to keep moving, swallowing the string of curses clawing up his throat. This was fine. Totally fine. A perfectly reasonable path for a perfectly reasonable Peak Lord.

…Who the fuck was he kidding?

Zhu Qing was insane. Had to be. What kind of person looked at this place and thought, "Yes, this is exactly where I want to live."

What next, a haunted—

Oh.

The fortress stood ahead, black iron walls stretching toward the heavens like the ribs of some long-dead titan. It didn't just stand against the night—it swallowed it whole.

A fortress? No. A prison.

Engraved along its surface were concealment sigils, their glow barely visible beneath layers of illusionary formations.

It wasn't a home. It wasn't even a stronghold.

It was a tomb that had forgotten it was supposed to stay buried.

And somewhere inside, Zhu Qing lived.

Su Xiaobai exhaled slowly.

If he had to wade through a fucking eldritch horror exhibit just to have a conversation, he really didn't want to know what she considered "training."

___

Creak…

Su Xiaobai pushed open the massive doors of the fortress.

No locks. No guards. No servants.

Suspicious as fuck.

Not that he knew this, but anyone who came uninvited to Peak Lord Zhu Qing's domain didn't just die—they fucking vanished. Formation-digested. Reality-deleted. Probably ground up into spiritual fertilizer for her garden.

Yet here he was.

Thanks to his finely honed villain instincts (and a complete lack of moral restraint), Su Xiaobai had walked past more than a few 'step here and get turned into cosmic diarrhea' traps along the way. Straightening his robes, he called out—

"Peak Lord Zhu?"

Silence.

Then, a voice from above.

"Here."

Low. Cool. Dripping with that natural condescension that only powerful cultivators and rich bastards had.

He followed the sound up the staircase, the fortress surprisingly… pleasant? The air was warm, the scent of sandalwood and aged scrolls in the halls. Candlelight flickered along the stone walls, giving it that cozy 'I have way too much money for my own good' aesthetic.

Not haunted. Not filled with the anguished wails of tortured souls.

…Which was a little disappointing, honestly.

He reached a door at the top, hesitation flickering through his mind for just a second.

This was a woman's room.

A Peak Lord's room.

The lone brain cell of reason in his head whispered, "Villain or not, maybe don't just barge in?"

The other 699 brain cells kicked that thought in the spine and spat on it.

What if this was one of those stupid cliché moments?

What if he opened the door and saw something he shouldn't?

…The author wouldn't be that much of a dumbass, right?

Smirking to himself, he pushed the door open.

Splash!

'FUCK.'

A wall of steam punched him straight in the face. The air smelled of lotus and spirit herbs, the kind of scent rich women used when they wanted to smell like wealth and make poor men feel inadequate.

He had not just walked into a room.

He had walked straight into a goddamn celestial bathhouse.

A massive hot spring stretched out before him, steam curling through the air like ghostly fingers. The water shimmered, reflecting the candlelight with an almost ethereal glow.

And then—

Splash.

A woman knelt at the water's edge, her bare back facing him.

She scooped up a handful of steaming water, letting it cascade down her milky-white skin, droplets tracing slow, sinful paths over curves sculpted by the heavens themselves. Strands of obnoxiously divine hair hugged to her body, the rest flowing down her back like a waterfall stolen from a goddamn heavenly realm.

No—wait.

There was an actual fucking waterfall here.

Right in the middle of the bath. A miniature hot spring gushing from the stone, spitting scalding water like a damn heavenly beast nutting endlessly into the pool.

Su Xiaobai's brain short-circuited. His legs refused to move. His villainous instincts screamed—

[TURN AROUND, MOTHERFUCKER. IT'S A TRAP!]

His body, the traitorous sack of flesh that it was, remained rooted in place.

What the hell was this situation?