Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 896: Meeting With Three Beauties

The month allocated for the secret meeting passed in a blur of intense, focused activity. It was a period of consolidation and growth, a quiet intake of breath before the next great plunge into the chaotic currents of the cultivation world. Wang Jian and Yue Lingshan, now firmly established in their magnificent new cave dwelling, spent their days in a harmonious rhythm of cultivation, study, and shared intimacy, their power and their bond deepening with each passing day.

Finally, the appointed day arrived.

The main hall of their private manor, carved from the very heart of the mountain and drawing upon the potent energy of the hidden Spiritual Eye, was a masterpiece of understated luxury. The stone walls were polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the soft, multi-colored glow of the spirit herbs visible through a grand, open archway that led to their secret garden. Plush beast furs were artfully arranged on stone benches and divans, and a low, darkwood table sat in the center of the room, already set with a delicate, handcrafted tea service.

Yue Lingshan moved about the hall with a quiet, nervous energy, adjusting a cushion here, straightening a cup there. She wore an elegant, flowing gown of pale azure silk, the color of a clear morning sky. It was simple, yet it could not conceal the breathtaking magnificence of her Foundation Establishment-level beauty and her voluptuous, perfect figure. A single, spirit-infused hairpin—the one Wang Jian had gifted her—held her dark, silken hair in place.

”Jian, are you certain about this?” she asked, turning to him. He was standing by the archway to the garden, his expression calm and unreadable. ”Inviting them both here… to our home.”

He turned, a warm, reassuring smile on his handsome face. He walked over to her, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pulling her gently against him. ”It is necessary, Lingshan. And this is the perfect, neutral ground. They will feel secure here, away from the prying eyes of their sects.”

”I know,” she sighed, leaning into his embrace, her magnificent, full breasts pressing against his chest. ”But… Chen Ying. She is so… cold. And Liu Ruyan… I…”

He silenced her with a soft kiss. ”You are the mistress of this home, my love,” he whispered against her lips. ”You will be a perfect hostess. Do not worry. I will handle everything.”

His confidence, as always, was a soothing balm to her anxieties. She nodded, her own resolve firming.

The first to arrive was Liu Ruyan.

She came alone, a slender, graceful figure in her signature medicinal green robes. She wore a thick, obscuring veil, her every movement a study in quiet, serene elegance. But Wang Jian could sense the nervous flutter of her heart, the slight tension in her posture.

Yue Lingshan greeted her at the entrance with a warm, genuine smile. ”Sister Liu! Welcome to our humble dwelling. It is so good to see you again.”

”Senior Sister Yue,” Liu Ruyan replied, her melodious voice a soft chime as she offered a graceful bow. Her veiled gaze flickered past Lingshan, landing on Wang Jian for a fleeting, heart-stopping second before quickly looking away. ”Senior Brother Wang. This place is… magnificent. The spiritual energy is so pure.”

ʼHe is even more handsome than I remember,ʼ she thought, her heart giving a little lurch. The memory of their night in the other cave, of his hands on her body, his voice in her ear, was a secret fire that burned just beneath her calm exterior. ʼI must be careful. Yue Lingshan is here. She must not suspect.ʼ

”Please, come in, Sister Liu,” Wang Jian said, his voice a smooth, welcoming baritone. He gestured towards the low table. ”We were just about to have some tea.”

Shortly after, the second guest arrived.

Chen Yingʼs presence was a stark contrast to Liu Ruyanʼs gentle serenity. She arrived like a queen, her posture regal, her aura a palpable chill of pride and power. She wore the fine, pale blue robes of a Mystic Peak inner sect elite, her unveiled face an exquisite mask of cold, indifferent beauty.

She did not bow. She simply inclined her head, her gaze sweeping over the main hall with a critical, assessing light.

”Junior Brother Wang. Junior Sister Yue,” she greeted, her voice as cool and crisp as a winter morning. Her gaze lingered on Wang Jian for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, a silent, secret acknowledgement passing between them before she looked away.

ʼMaster,ʼ the word echoed in the silent depths of her soul, a chain of submission that was both a torment and a strange, thrilling comfort. ʼI am here, as you commanded.ʼ

Yue Lingshan felt a familiar flicker of annoyance and intimidation at Chen Yingʼs haughty demeanor. ʼShe always acts so high and mighty. As if we are mere ants beneath her notice.ʼ

”Senior Sister Chen,” Yue Lingshan greeted, her own tone a perfect blend of formal respect and subtle distance. ”Welcome. Please, join us.”

The four of them sat around the low table, a study in contrasting energies. Wang Jian, the calm, confident center. Yue Lingshan, the warm and gracious hostess, her love for Wang Jian a radiant glow that she barely concealed. Liu Ruyan, the serene, shy fairy, her inner turmoil hidden behind a veil of polite tranquility. And Chen Ying, the icy queen, her arrogance a shield for the broken, submissive slave that now resided within her soul.

The meeting began with the requisite pleasantries, the careful dance of cultivator etiquette.

Wang Jian poured the tea, his movements fluid and masterful. ”Allow me to offer my congratulations to you both,” he said, his warm smile directed at the two guests. ”Senior Sister Chen, Junior Sister Liu. To break through to the Foundation Establishment Realm is a momentous occasion. It is a testament to your profound talent and diligent effort.”

Liu Ruyanʼs cheeks flushed slightly beneath her veil. She offered a small, grateful bow of her head. ”Thank you for your kind words, Senior Brother Wang. Your own advancement, and that of Senior Sister Yue, was even more astonishing. I was merely fortunate to have your guidance in the Forbidden Ground.”

Her words were humble, but they also subtly reinforced the bond their group had formed, a gentle reminder to Chen Ying that she was not the only one with a connection to the man at the table.

Yue Lingshanʼs smile tightened almost imperceptibly at Liu Ruyanʼs words. ʼHer guidance? What guidance did he offer her?ʼ she wondered, the small seed of her jealousy stirring.

Chen Yingʼs response to the congratulations was, as expected, cold and indifferent. She took a delicate sip of her tea, her expression unchanging.

”It was an expected outcome,” she stated flatly, as if discussing the weather. ”My foundation was solid. The breakthrough was merely the next logical step in my cultivation path. It is nothing to be celebrated.”

Her arrogance was breathtaking. Liu Ruyan looked slightly taken aback, while Yue Lingshanʼs lips pressed into a thin line.

Wang Jian, however, simply chuckled. ”Senior Sister Chen is ever focused on the Great Dao. A truly admirable trait.”

With the congratulations out of the way, the atmosphere in the room grew more serious. It was Yue Lingshan who began, her voice taking on a grave, emotional tone as she recounted the events of their mission.

She spoke of Senior Brother Wei Chenʼs fatal arrogance, his dismissal of Wang Jianʼs warning. She described the sudden, shocking horror of the ambush, the feeling of utter helplessness as the sealing arrays had snapped shut, trapping them like beasts in a cage.

Her voice trembled with a genuine, righteous fury as she detailed the slaughter. ”They were our sect brothers, Sister Chen,” she said, her gaze fixed on the icy inner sect disciple. ”Men we had known, trained with. And they were cut down like wheat in a harvest. The four sects… they showed no mercy. It was not a battle; it was a treacherous massacre.”

Chen Ying listened, her face an impassive mask. She had, of course, heard the official reports that had thrown the sectʼs Elders into an uproar. Wang Jianʼs and Yue Lingshanʼs survival was deemed a near-miracle, a testament to their strength and luck.

”I had heard the mission failed catastrophically,” Chen Ying said, her voice devoid of emotion. ”The Elders are in an uproar. To think the other sects would be so bold, to so flagrantly violate the non-aggression pact… it is an unprecedented act of aggression.”

Liu Ruyan, in contrast, looked genuinely horrified. She had heard rumors, of course, whispers within her own sect of a successful ”joint resource acquisition mission,” but the brutal reality Yue Lingshan was describing… it was far more terrible than she had imagined.

She fidgeted with the sleeve of her robe, her head bowed. ”My sect… was involved?” she whispered, her voice filled with a genuine shame and confusion. ”I… I had heard it was merely a mission to… persuade the Mystic Peak Sect to share its resources. I did not know it would involve… such bloodshed. This is a massacre.”

Her reaction seemed so sincere, so filled with guilt, that Yue Lingshanʼs heart softened towards her. The faint embers of her jealousy cooled slightly. ʼShe truly did not know,ʼ Lingshan thought. ʼShe is as much a victim of her sectʼs politics as we are.ʼ

Wang Jian, having let Yue Lingshanʼs emotional testimony set the stage, finally took control of the meeting. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers steepled. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, his presence becoming the undeniable center of gravity.

”We did not gather you both here merely to recount our sorrows,” he said, his voice calm, yet carrying a weight that commanded their absolute attention. ”We survived. But survival is not enough. The sect, our sect, is now on the brink of war.”

He looked from Liu Ruyan to Chen Ying, his gaze sharp and penetrating.

”We need to understand the true scope of this threat. We need to know what is happening within your sects, at the highest levels. We, as new Deacons, are still considered outsiders in the grander scheme of things. We have limited access to the strategies being formed by the Elders and the Ancestors. We need your help to see the full board, so we can protect ourselves, and perhaps, even help our sect navigate the coming storm.”

His words were a call to alliance, a plea for intelligence, wrapped in the noble guise of sect loyalty and self-preservation.

He turned to Liu Ruyan first, his expression earnest, his tone that of a trusted ally speaking to another.

”Junior Sister Liu,” he began, using the more formal address in front of the others, ”you have our absolute trust, a trust forged in the fires of the Blood Forbidden Ground. We need to know what the Crimson Pill Sect is truly planning. Are your Elders truly committing their full strength to a war with our sect? Or is this, as we suspect, the work of a rogue faction within your ranks?”

He deliberately offered her no payment, no trade. He was leveraging the bond they had formed, the life debt she owed them, and the secret intimacy they had shared.

Liu Ruyan hesitated, a war playing out behind her veil. To share her sectʼs secrets… it was a profound betrayal. But to refuse the man who had saved her, the man who now held a piece of her heart, the man whose power she had witnessed firsthand… that felt like an even greater folly.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her decision made.

”Senior Brother Wang,” she said, her voice a low, confidential murmur. ”You are right to be suspicious. The situation is far more complex than it appears on the surface. It is not the entire Crimson Pill Sect that desires this war.”

She leaned forward slightly, the three of them unconsciously forming a tight circle of conspiracy.

”The aggression,” she explained, her voice barely a whisper, ”is being pushed by a powerful, ambitious faction within my sect, a faction led by our Second Elder, Elder Fu. He has long believed our sectʼs policy of peaceful alchemy and trade has made us… soft. He believes we should be more aggressive, that we should use our alchemical prowess to dominate the other sects, not just coexist with them. The Star-Vein Iron was merely the pretext he needed to rally support for his cause.”

Wang Jian and Yue Lingshan exchanged a look. This confirmed their suspicions.

”But what of your Sect Leader?” Yue Lingshan asked. ”Surely she would not stand for such a blatant act of aggression?”

A sad, resigned look entered Liu Ruyanʼs eyes. ”Our Sect Leader… she is a peerless beauty, a powerful expert at the peak of the Late Core Formation Realm. She is my nominal master, and she is a proponent of peace. But…” She sighed. ”…the Second Elderʼs faction has grown too powerful over the last century. They have the support of nearly half the sectʼs Elders. If my Master were to act against them directly, it would risk a catastrophic internal schism, a civil war that would tear the Crimson Pill Sect apart from within. She is… trapped.”

She then lowered her voice even further, her words now a shocking, dangerous secret.

”And there is more. My Master suspects the Second Elder is not acting alone. She believes he is part of a secret organization, a shadow alliance of ambitious, warmongering elders from all five sects, including your own Mystic Peak Sect. She believes they are coordinating in secret, aiming to stir chaos throughout the entire State of Yue for their own mysterious, shared gains.”

This revelation was a thunderclap. Yue Lingshan gasped, her eyes wide with shock. A secret organization of elders from all the major sects? It was an almost unbelievable conspiracy.

Wang Jianʼs face remained impassive, but his mind was racing, the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place with a chilling clarity. The unprecedented coordination of the ambush. The willingness of four righteous sects to so brazenly break a centuries-old pact. It all made sense now. This was not just inter-sect rivalry. This was a coup, on a state-wide scale.

He turned his intense gaze upon the last, most important player at the table.

”Senior Sister Chen,” he said, his voice a low, silken command. ”Your turn.”

All eyes in the chamber turned to Chen Ying. She sat like a statue carved from glacial ice, her beautiful face a mask of cold indifference. She took a delicate, deliberate sip of her tea, her movements slow, graceful, and filled with an unspoken arrogance.

She placed the cup down with a soft, almost inaudible click.

”My, my, Junior Brother Wang,” she began, her voice a cool, crisp counterpoint to Liu Ruyanʼs warm melody. ”You seem to believe that the secrets of our sectʼs Elders are common commodities, to be traded for a few words of thanks and a cup of tea.”

Yue Lingshanʼs brow furrowed, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes at Chen Yingʼs haughty tone. Liu Ruyan, in contrast, seemed to shrink back slightly, intimidated by the inner sect discipleʼs powerful, confident aura.

Wang Jian, however, simply smiled, his expression one of calm, unbothered amusement. He had expected this. It was part of her act, the role of the proud, untouchable ice queen she was forced to play.

”Of course not, Senior Sister Chen,” he replied smoothly. ”I would not presume to ask for such profound knowledge without offering something of equal, or perhaps even greater, value in return.”

He paused, letting his words hang in the air, his gaze steady and unwavering.

”I am aware that you cultivate the ʼSeven Absolutes Sword Artʼ,” he continued, his voice low and confidential. ”A profound, ancient technique that requires immense resources and a deep understanding of its core principles to master. Resources,” he added, a subtle, knowing glint in his eyes, ”that are not easily acquired, even for the granddaughter of a Core Formation Elder.”

Chen Yingʼs cold composure finally cracked, just a hairline fracture, but it was there. Her eyes widened a fraction of a second, a flicker of surprise and something else—perhaps a hint of fear—in their icy depths. How could he possibly know the name of her secret, legacy-bestowed cultivation art?

Wang Jian pressed his advantage, his voice a silken, irresistible lure. ”In return for any… insights you might be willing to share regarding our sectʼs current predicament,” he said, ”I, Wang Jian, will personally concoct any pill you require for your cultivation, free of charge, for the foreseeable future.”

He let the offer sink in, a promise of unimaginable value.

”You need only provide the raw medicinal materials,” he concluded with a magnanimous wave of his hand.

The room fell silent. Yue Lingshan and Liu Ruyan stared at him, their eyes wide with shock at the sheer, audacious generosity of his offer. Free, custom-concocted pills? From an alchemist of his monstrous talent? It was a price that no cultivator in their right mind could refuse.

Chen Yingʼs mind was a chaotic whirlwind.

ʼFree pills… any pill I desire…ʼ she thought, her heart hammering against her ribs. She knew the quality of his pellets. They were divine, leagues beyond anything her grandfather could provide. With an endless supply of his custom-made elixirs, her cultivation speed, her mastery of the Seven Absolutes Sword Art… it would soar to heights she had only dreamed of.

But that wasnʼt what truly made her heart race.

ʼHe is giving me a reason,ʼ she realized, a wild, thrilling, and terrifying thought. ʼA perfect excuse. A way to serve him, to be useful to my Master in a way that is not just… on my knees in the dark.ʼ The thought of being his spy, his confidante, his partner in this grand, dangerous game, was a far more potent, far more intoxicating lure than any pill.

She had to maintain her facade, her cold, proud mask, especially in front of Yue Lingshan and the Crimson Pill fairy.

Outwardly, her expression remained indifferent, her voice still laced with a cool disdain. ”A tempting offer, Junior Brother Wang. Your alchemical talents are indeed… noteworthy.”

But her heart… her heart was a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions. She had begun to love being fucked like an animal by this magnificent man. The shame was still there, a constant, burning ember, but it was now intertwined with a dark, addictive, and possessive desire.

Before she gave her answer, she turned her icy gaze towards Liu Ruyan, her expression one of profound, arrogant suspicion.

”But before I share any information of value,” she said, her voice a sharp, cutting blade, ”I must ask. The core secrets of our Mystic Peak Sect are not for foreign ears, especially not for the ears of a potential enemy from the Crimson Pill Sect. Junior Brother Wang, can this… fairy truly be trusted?”

It was a perfect performance. She was the loyal, cautious Senior Sister, protecting her sectʼs secrets.

Yue Lingshan frowned, about to defend her new friend, but Wang Jian spoke first.

He looked Chen Ying directly in the eye, his gaze serious, his voice resonating with an unwavering, absolute authority that made even her tremble inwardly.

”I, Wang Jian, personally vouch for Junior Sister Liuʼs trustworthiness,” he stated, his words a simple, powerful declaration. ”She is our ally in this. Her life is bound to ours by a debt of honor. I trust her completely.”

His words were a shield for Liu Ruyan, but they were also a subtle, chilling command to Chen Ying. ʼShe is with me. You will accept it.ʼ

Chen Ying held his gaze for a long moment, then gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. The bargain was struck.

”Very well,” she said, her voice returning to its cool, detached tone. ”If Junior Brother Wang vouches for her, then I will speak.”

The secrets she then revealed were indeed profound, confirming the depth of the conspiracy Liu Ruyan had hinted at, and painting a grim picture of the sectʼs internal strife.

She spoke of the deep, long-standing division within the sectʼs highest echelons. ”The Grand Elders are split,” she explained, her voice a low, confidential murmur. ”My grandfather, Ancestor Chen, leads the war faction. They believe the four sectsʼ betrayal is an unforgivable offense, a challenge to our very existence. They are advocating for an immediate, all-out retaliation. To gather our forces, call upon our allies, and crush the four sects with overwhelming force.”

”But,” she continued, her eyes flickering with a cold light, ”the other faction, led by the First Grand Elder, Ancestor Jin, is more cautious. He fears a war on four fronts would be disastrous, that it would drain the sectʼs resources and leave us vulnerable. He believes this is a conspiracy, a trap, and that we must first identify the true masterminds behind it before we act.”

She revealed the names of the Elders and the powerful inner sect clans that supported each faction, their strengths, their weaknesses, their hidden ambitions. She spoke of the Sect Master, who remained in deep seclusion, his will unknown, leaving the two factions to vie for control in a dangerous, high-stakes political chess game.

The information was a treasure trove, a detailed map of the very heart of the Mystic Peak Sectʼs power structure. Wang Jian and Yue Lingshan listened, their minds absorbing every detail, the grim reality of their sectʼs precarious situation laid bare before them.

The meeting stretched on for hours, a complex, intricate dance of shared secrets, veiled intentions, and burgeoning alliances. The sun had long since set, and the moon was high in the sky by the time they had exhausted their topics of discussion.

Wang Jian rose, a charming, hospitable smile on his face. ”The hour is late,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the two beautiful guests. ”And the paths back to your respective sects are long and, in these troubled times, perhaps not entirely safe.”

He paused, a mischievous glint entering his eyes, a glint that both Chen Ying and Liu Ruyan noticed instantly, their hearts giving a simultaneous, nervous flutter.

”I insist you both stay the night,” he offered, his voice a smooth, irresistible invitation. ”Our humble dwelling has more than enough guest chambers. It would be my honor to ensure your safety until the morning.”