Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

The gentle, rhythmic rocking of the Iron-Wood vessel was a stark contrast to the chaotic, blood-soaked earth they had left behind in the State of Yue. Here, in the vast, untamed expanse of the Myriad Reefs Sea Domain, the horizon was a seamless weld of sapphire water and azure sky, broken only by the occasional cry of a spirit-gull or the breach of a massive, scaled fish.

The morning sun beat down with a humid, tropical intensity that felt heavy against the skin, carrying the scent of salt and brine. While Yue Lingshan remained asleep in the captain’s quarters, exhausted from the emotional toll of leaving her homeland and the physical demands of her husband’s ”comforting” the previous night, Wang Jian stood on the quarterdeck, surveying his domain.

His gaze drifted over the women gathered on the deck. Chen Ying was polishing her sword near the mast, her expression stoic. Liu Ruyan was leaning over the railing, staring into the depths. The three Shadow Flowers—Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue—were chatting quietly near the bow. And Mu Lianhua, the former Sect Mistress, stood by the helm, radiating a quiet, suppressed power.

They were all still wearing their mainland robes—heavy, multi-layered silks designed for mountain winds and sect propriety. In this humid, salty air, they looked stifled, out of place. They stuck out like sore thumbs, screaming ’outsiders’ to anyone with eyes.

”This won’t do,” Wang Jian murmured to himself.

He clapped his hands, the sound sharp enough to cut through the wind. ”Everyone, gather.”

The women moved instantly. The discipline he had instilled in them, whether through training or through the breaking of their wills, was absolute. They formed a semi-circle around him.

”Look at yourselves,” Wang Jian said, gesturing at their attire. ”We are no longer in the Mystic Peak Sect. We are no longer in the State of Yue. Wearing those heavy, formal robes here is like wearing a winter coat in a furnace. It screams ’foreign prey’ to every pirate and sea beast within a hundred miles.”

He looked at the trembling captain, who was steering the ship. ”You. Bring me the chest I saw in your quarters. The one with the local silks.”

The captain scrambled to obey, returning moments later with a large chest filled with vibrant, lightweight fabrics and local garments he had likely looted or traded for.

”We need to blend in,” Wang Jian announced, his eyes gleaming with a possessive light as he looked over his harem. ”You will modify your attire. Lighter fabrics. Breathable. Styles that fit the Myriad Reefs.”

He reached into the chest and pulled out a garment. It was a sheer, sea-blue sarong-style dress, made of a silk so fine it rippled like water. It was elegant, undoubtedly expensive, but by mainland standards, it was daring. It was designed to wrap around the body, leaving the shoulders and arms bare, with a slit that would reveal the leg when walking.

He walked over to Mu Lianhua.

”Sect Mistress Mu,” he said, his voice dropping to a smooth, intimate timbre that only she could hear clearly. ”You will wear this.”

Mu Lianhua looked at the garment. A flush rose on her cheeks. ”Master... this is... it is very exposed.”

”It is elegant,” Wang Jian corrected, his fingers brushing her hand as he gave it to her. ”And it will keep you cool. Go change. All of you. Make yourselves... comfortable.”

He watched them disperse below decks. He wasn’t just doing this for camouflage. The thought of seeing his collection of beauties dressed in the exotic, revealing styles of the islands made his blood run hot. He wanted to see their skin. He wanted to see the curves he owned draped in something that accentuated them, not hid them.

A few minutes later, Mu Lianhua emerged from the cabin.

Wang Jian’s breath hitched.

The blue sarong clung to her mature, voluptuous figure like a second skin. The fabric was opaque enough to be modest, yet thin enough to hint at the dark peaks of her nipples and the shadow of her navel. Her creamy, white shoulders were bare, glowing in the sunlight. Her long legs, strong and shapely, flashed with every step she took. She looked like a sea goddess, regal yet undeniably accessible.

She refused to meet the eyes of the crew, walking straight to Wang Jian with her head slightly bowed.

”Is this... acceptable, Master?” she whispered.

Wang Jian stepped closer, blocking her from the view of the helmsman. He reached out, his hand sliding down her bare arm, enjoying the warmth of her skin.

”It is perfection,” he murmured. ”But I think... I need to inspect the fit more closely.”

He glanced at the closed door of the captain’s quarters where Yue Lingshan was sleeping. ”My wife is resting. The cabin is quiet. Come with me, Lianhua. I have some... instructions regarding our new course.”

Mu Lianhua knew exactly what ’instructions’ meant. Her breath quickened, her eyes dilating. ”Yes... Master.”

He led her into the small chart room adjacent to the main cabin, locking the door behind them. The moment the latch clicked, the pretense dropped.

Wang Jian sat on a heavy wooden chair and pulled Mu Lianhua onto his lap. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck, settling her soft, heavy bottom onto his thighs. The thin fabric of the sarong offered no barrier to the heat radiating from him.

”A new world, a new start,” Wang Jian murmured, his hands immediately finding their way inside the loose top of the sarong. He groaned as he felt the weight of her massive, unconfined breasts fill his palms. ”But your job remains the same, my pet.”

Mu Lianhua leaned her head back, exposing her long, elegant neck to his kisses. She reached for a bowl of spirit fruits on the table, peeling a grape and pressing it to his lips.

”Yes, Master,” she replied, her voice thick with devotion and the conditioning he had burned into her soul. ”I exist to serve. My body is yours to use.”

For the next three hours, the chart room was filled with the sounds of wet, slapping flesh and stifled moans. Wang Jian took her ruthlessly, his pent-up excitement at the new environment pouring into her. He lifted the sarong, admiring the way her pale thighs looked against the dark wood of the furniture. He bent her over the chart table, taking her from behind while looking at the map of the endless sea, claiming his territory in every sense of the word.

He loved the elegance of the dress, but he loved messing it up even more. He loved how the sheer fabric bunched around her waist, how her large breasts swayed freely as he thrust into her. He treated the former Sect Mistress like his personal stress relief toy, and she accepted it, craved it, her mind finding peace in the absolute surrender of her will to his.

By the time they emerged, the sun was high in the sky. Mu Lianhua’s hair was slightly disheveled, her lips swollen and red, her skin glowing with a post-coital flush that made her look ten years younger. She adjusted her sarong, composing herself into the picture of a dignified, if slightly weary, elder.

On the deck, Yue Lingshan had awoken and joined the others. She was wearing a modified version of her sect robes, lighter and more practical, but still conservative compared to the others. She stood by the railing, staring out at the ocean with wide, curious eyes.

”The currents here...” Lingshan murmured as Wang Jian approached her, wrapping an arm around her waist. ”Do you feel them, husband? The water Qi creates natural vortexes. It’s like the ocean itself is a giant, shifting array.”

”It is fascinating,” Wang Jian agreed, kissing her temple, playing the role of the attentive husband perfectly. ”Perhaps you can study them. We might be able to incorporate these natural formations into our own defenses once we settle.”

”I would like that,” she smiled, leaning into him. She glanced at Mu Lianhua, who was standing nearby, looking serene. ”Elder Mu, are you feeling well? You look flushed.”

”The sea air,” Mu Lianhua said smoothly, not missing a beat. ”It is quite... invigorating. I was just meditating on the water attribute essence.”

Nearby, the five married maids were having a harder time. They were huddled near the rail, their faces a sickly shade of green. The rolling motion of the ship, amplified by the chaotic waves, was wreaking havoc on their inner ears.

Wang Jian walked over to them. He frowned. ”This won’t do.”

He retrieved a bottle of pills from his storage ring—”Stabilizing Sea Pellets”—that he had looted from the captain’s stash.

”Take these,” he ordered, handing them out. ”They will settle your equilibrium.”

As the women swallowed the pills, looking grateful, Wang Jian’s voice turned stern. ”But pills are a crutch. You are cultivators now, not mortal women. You must learn to flow with the ship, not fight it. Train your balance. Stand on the railings if you must. You cannot guard me or serve me if you are puking over the side.”

”Yes, Master! We are sorry!” Li Mei gasped, wiping her mouth and straightening her back, determined not to fail him.

High above them, in the crow’s nest, Chen Ying stood vigil. The wind whipped her hair around her face, but she stood perfectly still, a statue of ice and steel. Her eyes scanned the horizon, unblinking. She enjoyed the isolation of the sea. Here, away from the politics of the sect and the prying eyes of rivals, her purpose was singular: protect Wang Jian. It was a simple, cold clarity that soothed her soul.

On the aft deck, Liu Ruyan had set up a small, portable alchemy station. She was dissecting the carcass of a strange, glowing fish that had jumped onto the deck earlier.

”Interesting,” she muttered, her hands stained with blue blood. ”The mercury content in the blood is high. It could be used as a catalyst for lightning-attribute pills.” She looked up at Wang Jian as he passed, giving him a secret, sultry smile that promised later experiments of a different kind.

The original captain of the ship watched all of this from the helm, his hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He was terrified.

He had thought they were just powerful refugees. But as he watched them—the way the beautiful women looked at the man, the casual display of high-grade pills, the terrifying aura of the woman in blue—he realized he was transporting monsters.

That man, Wang Jian... he had a lower cultivation base than the Core Formation woman, but he walked with the stride of an emperor. His eyes held a darkness that made the captain’s soul shiver. He was the scariest of them all.

”Red Coral Island,” Wang Jian said, coming up to the helm. ”Tell me about it.”

”It... it is a trade hub, Senior,” the captain stammered. ”Ruled by the Red Coral Ancestor. Neutral ground. No fighting allowed in the city limits.”

”Perfect,” Wang Jian nodded. ”We need identities. We need a base. And we need to find out where the resources are.”

He looked at Mu Lianhua. ”Elder Mu, you must suppress your cultivation. Drop it to the early stages of Core Formation. We want to be respected, not feared. We don’t want to spook the local lords into thinking we are an invasion force.”

”Understood,” she nodded, and her aura instantly dimmed, folding in on itself until she felt merely ’strong’ rather than ’overwhelming’.

He turned to the Shadow Flowers—Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue. They were dressed in daring, local-style leathers that showed off their midriffs and legs, looking like dangerous, beautiful mercenaries.

”When we dock,” he instructed them, ”mingle with the crew. Talk to the sailors. Learn the slang. Learn the customs. I want to know who hates who, which shops are fronts for the black market, and what the local taboos are. But,” his eyes darkened, ”do not sleep with them. Your bodies are mine.”

”Of course, Master,” Qiu Yun smirked, toying with a dagger. ”We will just... tease the truth out of them.”

Night fell over the ocean. The water came alive. Bioluminescent algae churned in the wake of the ship, creating a trail of glowing blue fire. Strange, glowing jellyfish floated in the depths like ghosts. The sky was a tapestry of stars, brighter and clearer than anything seen from the land.

It was beautiful. It was alien.

Wang Jian retired to the captain’s quarters with Yue Lingshan. He held her close as the ship rocked, whispering comforts to her, reassuring her about their distance from home. He played the part of the loving husband, anchoring her in this strange new world, while his mind raced with plans for conquest.

The peace of the voyage was shattered the next afternoon.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The ship’s brass alarm bell rang out frantically.

”Beast attack! Starboard side! Brace for impact!” the lookout screamed.

The water alongside the ship exploded upwards. A massive, slimy tentacle, thick as a tree trunk and covered in hooked suckers, slammed onto the deck. It wrapped around the main mast, the wood groaning under the pressure.

A hideous, beaked head broke the surface. It was a Deep-Sea Kraken, a beast at the peak of the Foundation Establishment realm, bordering on a breakthrough. Its eyes were the size of dinner plates, burning with a chaotic hunger.

The original crew panicked. They threw harpoons, but the iron tips bounced harmlessly off the rubbery, mucus-coated hide of the beast.

”We’re doomed! It’s going to drag us under!” a sailor shrieked.

Wang Jian stepped out of the cabin, calm as a millpond. He looked at the thrashing monster.

”Practice time,” he announced, his voice cutting through the panic. He looked at his trio of assassins. ”Shadow Flowers. Handle it.”

Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue didn’t hesitate. They leaped into action, moving with the fluid coordination Wang Jian had drilled into them during their brutal training sessions.

”Burn!” Qiu Yun shouted. She launched a volley of fireballs. The water weakened them, but the sheer heat boiled the seawater instantly, creating a cloud of scalding steam that blasted the Kraken’s face. The beast roared, thrashing.

”Poisoning the water!” Su Ning called out. She threw several vials into the sea around the beast. The water turned a murky, sickly purple. The Kraken shuddered as the toxins began to seep into its gills, slowing its movements.

Bai Xue was the blade. She moved like a dancer, running up the tentacle that was gripping the mast. Her dual daggers flashed in the sun. She slashed at the suckers, severing the muscles. The tentacle lost its grip, retreating in pain.

The beast was strong, though. Enraged, it slammed another tentacle against the hull, rocking the ship violently. Wood splintered.

Wang Jian stood on the quarterdeck, arms crossed, watching critically. He didn’t lift a finger to help physically.

”Aim for the eyes,” he instructed coolly. ”It relies on sight to target the ship. Blind it, and it will panic.”

Bai Xue heard him. She used the ship’s railing as a springboard, launching herself into the air. She twisted, avoiding a flailing tentacle by inches.

She landed directly on the beast’s head.

With a scream of effort, she drove her poisoned dagger deep into the Kraken’s massive, yellow eye.

SCREEEEEECH!

The sound was ear-splitting. The Kraken thrashed wildly, throwing Bai Xue clear (she was caught mid-air by a shadow-whip from Chen Ying). The beast convulsed, the poison from the dagger rushing straight to its brain.

It slammed against the water one last time, then went still, floating on the surface like a grotesque island.

”Pull it up,” Wang Jian ordered the stunned crew. ”Sea beast meat is edible, isn’t it? It’s full of spiritual energy. Waste not, want not.”

The original crew stared at the three beautiful women, their mouths agape. These ”servant girls” had just dismantled a monster that would have sunk a normal merchant vessel in minutes. They looked at Wang Jian with a new, terrified awe.

That night, they feasted. The Kraken steaks were tough but rich in Qi. Eating the meat sent a warm flush through their bodies, replenishing the energy spent in the fight.

Wang Jian sat at the head of the table, holding the beast core he had extracted. It pulsed with a deep, blue light.

”Water attribute,” he noted. ”Good quality. Lingshan, this is for you. Or perhaps Su Ning can use it for her poisons.”

He looked around at his group. They were smiling, eating, confident. They had faced the dangers of this new world and triumphed. They realized that while the environment was new, their strength—and their unity under Wang Jian—was real.

”Land ho!” Chen Ying’s voice called out from the crow’s nest the next morning. ”I see the island!”

Red Coral Island lived up to its name.

As the ship drew closer, the massive landmass resolved into view. It wasn’t rock; it was a colossal, calcified coral reef that had risen from the ocean floor eons ago. The island glowed with a faint, reddish hue in the sunlight.

The city built upon it was a riot of color. Buildings were constructed from polished coral, giant shells, and shimmering pearl-stone. It looked organic, chaotic, and incredibly vibrant.

The port was a hive of activity. Dozens of flying ships hovered in the docking bays. Massive sea-vessels unloaded crates of glowing ores and beast parts. Cultivators flew through the air on swords, artifacts, and tamed sea beasts. The ambient cultivation level of the average person on the street was noticeably higher than in the mortal cities of the State of Yue.

Their ship pulled into the dock. A Port Authority official, dressed in robes embroidered with red coral patterns, flew down to meet them.

”Docking fee,” the official barked, looking bored. ”Ten medium-grade spirit stones per day.”

It was a steep price, aimed at fleecing newcomers.

Wang Jian stepped forward. He didn’t argue. He flipped a pouch of High-Grade spirit stones to the official.

”We will be staying for a while,” Wang Jian said smoothly, radiating the aura of a wealthy young master who couldn’t be bothered with small change. ”Keep the change for your trouble.”

The official caught the pouch, checked the contents, and his eyes widened. His demeanor shifted instantly from boredom to obsequious respect.

”Welcome, esteemed guests! Welcome to Red Coral Island! Allow me to expedite your paperwork!”

The group disembarked, stepping onto the strange, hard red ground of the island.

Wang Jian adjusted his robes. He had adopted a persona for this place.

”Remember,” he told his group quietly. ”I am Young Master Wang, scion of a fallen clan from the Deep East, seeking a new start with my household. We are wealthy, we are powerful, but we are looking for stability.”

It explained his wealth, his lack of local knowledge, and his formidable entourage of beautiful, dangerous women.

They walked into the city. It was an assault on the senses. The smell of grilled seafood and strange spices filled the air. Shops lined the streets, selling things Wang Jian had never seen—breathing pills for underwater exploration, maps of shifting currents, weapons made of shark teeth and abyssal iron.

They headed to the most expensive inn in the city, the ”Pearl Palace.” Wang Jian rented an entire private courtyard, paying upfront for a month. It was secure, luxurious, and private.

Once they were settled, Wang Jian gathered his inner circle.

”We are safe for now,” he said. ”But we are blind.”

He looked at the Shadow Flowers. ”You three. You know what to do.”

”Yes, Master,” Qiu Yun smiled.

”Go out. Find out who runs this island really—not just the name, but the power structure. Find the rules. And find the black market. We have loot to sell.”

”Lianhua,” he turned to the Sect Mistress.

”There is a strong aura in the center of the island,” she whispered, her senses extended. ”Mid-Stage Nascent Soul. It must be the Red Coral Ancestor.”

”We stay respectful,” Wang Jian cautioned. ”For now. We don’t want to attract the attention of a local lord until we are ready.”

”Jian,” Liu Ruyan spoke up, looking out the window at the street below. ”I saw a shop on the way here selling alchemy cauldrons. The designs are... strange. They use a water-fire fusion technique I’ve never seen.”

Wang Jian nodded. ”This region has its own Dao. We need to learn it.”

”We need a foothold,” he continued. ”We need a steady stream of income and information.”

He looked at the Shadow Flowers again. ”Instead of opening a shop ourselves, which would tie us down... I have a better idea. You three.”

”Yes?”

”You will live in a separate courtyard. You will present yourselves as wandering rogue cultivators looking for work. Join different forces. One of you join the City Guard. One of you join a mercenary group. One of you try to infiltrate a local trading guild.”

He grinned. ”Become their trusted members. Learn their secrets. And send everything back to me.”

”It shall be done,” they vowed.

Wang Jian walked out onto the balcony of their rented courtyard. He looked over the bustling, alien city of Red Coral Island. The ocean breeze blew through his hair.

He smiled.

The State of Yue was behind them, burning in the fires of a demonic war. But here... here was a whole new ocean of opportunities. New resources. New techniques. And new victims.