Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 928: The Art Of Gaslighting

The morning sun, filtered through the thin curtains of the rented courtyard, was a harsh, unforgiving spotlight.

Lianhua woke slowly, her consciousness swimming up from the deepest, most exhausted sleep she had ever known. Her body felt heavy, leaden, every muscle screaming with a dull, throbbing ache that spoke of unbelievable physical exertion.

But it wasnʼt just aches. There was a soreness between her thighs, a raw, tender throbbing that was utterly alien to her. And she was sticky. Her skin, usually pristine, was coated in dried sweat and other, thicker fluids that crusted on her inner thighs and stomach.

Memory didnʼt return in a trickle; it crashed into her like a landslide.

The healing. The touch. The sudden, blinding explosion of desire. And then… him. Inside her. Again and again. For hours. For days.

Horror, cold and absolute, washed over her, instantly banishing the lingering fog of sleep. She sat bolt upright, ignoring the screaming protest of her abused muscles.

She looked down at herself. Naked. Covered in marks—bites on her breasts, red handprints on her hips and thighs. She looked at the bed. It was a disaster area, stained with sweat, her maiden blood, and copious amounts of his seed.

And then she looked beside her.

Wang Jian lay there, sleeping peacefully, deeply, like a man with no cares in the world. He was naked, the sheet tangled around his waist, leaving his broad, muscular chest and the deep scratches she had left on his back exposed.

Fury, hot and blinding, warred with a soul-crushing shame. She had been defiled. The Sect Mistress of the Crimson Pill Sect, a woman who had guarded her purity for centuries, had been taken by a junior disciple like a common whore.

”You...” she hissed, her voice cracked and raw from screaming.

She reached out and shook him, violently. ”Wake up! You beast! Wake up!”

Wang Jian groaned, stirring slowly. He blinked his eyes open, looking groggy, confused. ”Mmm? Sect Mistress? Whatʼs... whatʼs wrong?”

”Whatʼs wrong?!” she shrieked, pulling the sheet up to cover her nakedness, her face flaming with rage and humiliation. ”Look at us! Look at what you did! You... you raped me! While I was weak! While I was injured! Was this your plan all along, you vile little snake?! To save me just to defile me?!”

Wang Jian sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked around, as if just realizing where they were, what state they were in. Then, his eyes widened in infinite, horrified realization.

”Oh gods...” he whispered.

Then, his expression changed. The confusion vanished, replaced instantly by a dark, thunderous anger that matched her own.

”My plan?!” he roared, his voice suddenly booming in the small room, startling her into momentary silence. He didnʼt apologize. He didnʼt cower. He attacked.

He threw the sheet off himself, standing up gloriously naked and completely unashamed, towering over her cowering form on the bed.

”You think I wanted this?!” he demanded, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation. ”You think I planned to betray my wife? To break my sacred vows for... for this?!” He gestured wildly at the messed bed.

Lianhua was taken aback, her fury momentarily stalled by his overwhelming aggression. ”You... you took me...”

”I was trying to HEAL you!” he shouted over her. ”I was focused! I was channeling my life force into your shattered meridians, trying to save your life! And what did you do?”

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his eyes accusing. ”Your body... it reacted! Do you have any idea how potent your innate Yin allure is, Sect Mistress? Even crippled, you are a demonic trap! Your Yin essence latched onto my Yang like a starving beast the moment I tried to fix your dantian!”

”Thatʼs... thatʼs not true...” she stammered, doubt beginning to creep in. She remembered the heat. She remembered the overwhelming need.

”It IS true!” he hammered on, relentless. ”I tried to pull away! I tried to stop! But you begged me! You grabbed me! Your uncontrolled lust, fueled by your injuries, it corrupted my Dao Heart in that moment! You seduced me, Lianhua!”

He turned away, pacing the room, running his hands through his hair in a display of utter frustration and guilt. ”Lingshan... oh gods, Lingshan... she is everything to me! I love her more than my own life! And now? Because of you, I have betrayed her! I have broken the most sacred promise a man can make!”

Lianhua, already emotionally compromised, traumatized by the fall of her sect and her crippling, began to crumble under his masterful gaslighting. His anger felt so real, so justified. And her own memories... they were hazy, clouded by lust, but she did remember begging. She did remember pulling him closer, wrapping her legs around him, demanding more.

ʼDid I...? Did I really initiate it? Was I so... so out of control?ʼ

”I... I didnʼt mean to...” she whispered, tears of shame replacing the tears of anger.

Wang Jian spun back to her. ”You have shamed us both,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He grabbed her arm, pulling her off the bed. She stumbled, weak and confused. He spun her around, bending her over the edge of the mattress.

”You need to be reminded of the shame you brought upon us,” he snarled.

He raised his hand and brought it down hard on her bare, upturned buttocks.

SMACK!

Lianhua cried out, more from shock than pain. Her magnificent, curvaceous ass jiggled violently from the impact, the flesh instantly turning pink.

”This is for Lingshan!” he roared, striking her again. SMACK! ”For making me betray the woman I love!”

SMACK! SMACK!

He delivered a dozen hard, stinging slaps, each one accompanied by a furious accusation. ”Seductress!” SMACK! ”Weak-willed!” SMACK! ”You couldnʼt control yourself!” SMACK!

He enjoyed it. He watched the flesh of her magnificent ass turning red, watched it jiggle and quake with every blow. It was a display of supreme dominance.

When he was done with her ass, he didnʼt let her up. He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her upright, spinning her to face him. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes filled with shame.

He grabbed her large, heavy breasts, his fingers digging brutally into the soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, which were already tender from his previous abuse, twisting them hard.

”Ah! It hurts!” she whimpered.

”Good! It should hurt!” he growled. He leaned in and bit down on her left breast, hard enough to leave a deep, bruising mark that would last for days. ”This is your punishment! For tempting me! For ruining my honor!”

He bit the other one, marking her again, claiming her through pain now that he had claimed her through pleasure. He was rewriting the narrative of their encounter in real-time, turning his vile assault into her shameful failure.

By the time he let her go, she was sobbing, huddled on the edge of the bed, completely broken, believing utterly that she was the villain who had corrupted a noble young hero.

The room was quiet now, save for Lianhuaʼs soft, hitching sobs. Wang Jian stood by the window, his back to her, projecting an aura of wounded, angry silence.

Lianhua sat on the bed, pulling the ruined sheet around her, wishing she could just disappear. The shame was a physical weight, crushing her. How could she have done that? How could she have lost control so completely?

”I... I am so sorry, Wang Jian,” she whispered, her voice broken. ”I donʼt know... I donʼt know what happened to me. The pain... the despair... I think I went mad for a moment.”

He didnʼt answer immediately. He let her stew in it.

While she cried, she instinctively tried to do what she always did when distressed: she tried to circulate her Qi to calm her racing heart.

She froze.

Her eyes widened, staring down at her own hands.

The Qi... it didnʼt just trickle. It flowed.

She focused inward, examining her dantian. It was still damaged, yes, but the repairs... they were immense. Far beyond what she thought possible in just a few days.

She checked her cultivation level. She gasped aloud.

She wasnʼt at the Fifth Stage of Qi Condensation anymore. She was at the Eleventh Stage.

A massive, impossible leap overnight. Six full stages.

She looked up at Wang Jianʼs stiff back, then down at herself, at the dried fluids on her skin. A terrible, shameful realization dawned on her.

ʼIt was the dual cultivation. His essence... that ʼVerdant Eternal Springʼ energy... combined with his potent Yang... it didnʼt just heal me. It supercharged my recovery. I... I drained him. I acted like a succubus, stealing his cultivation base to repair my own.ʼ

The guilt deepened, becoming a black pit in her stomach. She hadnʼt just seduced him; she had unknowingly used a forbidden, predatory cultivation method on him in her lust-crazed state.

”Wang Jian...” she said, her voice trembling with this new horror. ”My... my cultivation. Itʼs... Iʼm at the Eleventh Stage.”

He turned slowly, his face still hard, but feigning a flicker of surprise. ”What?”

”I... I think... during... that... I must have absorbed your essence too greedily,” she confessed, looking down in utter shame. ”I stole your power to heal myself. I am... I am a monster.”

Wang Jian suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. It was working better than he had dreamed. She had connected the dots exactly as he wanted her to.

He sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. He walked slowly back to the bed. He looked down at her, his expression softening from anger to a sort of disappointed, tragic pity.

”Itʼs done, Lianhua,” he said quietly, using her name without title for the first time, cementing the new intimacy. ”We cannot undo it. The past is written.”

He sat beside her. ”I... I am willing to forgive you. I know you were not yourself. The injuries, the trauma... it broke your mind for a time.”

Lianhua looked up at him, her eyes filled with desperate gratitude. ”You... you would forgive me? After I...?”

”Yes,” he said, acting the magnanimous hero. ”But there are conditions.”

”Anything,” she breathed.

”First,” he said sternly, ”we never speak of this again. Not to anyone. Especially not Ruyan. It would destroy her to know what her Master did to her friendʼs husband.”

”Never,” she vowed. ”I swear it.”

”Second,” he continued, ”you must not fight me when I try to heal you from now on. I still have a duty to Ruyan to save you completely. I will not let this... incident... stop me from fulfilling my promise. You will obey my instructions during the healing, no matter what they are. We must finish what we started, properly this time.”

”Yes... yes, Wang Jian. I understand. I will... I will follow your lead completely.”

As she accepted his terms, he reached out. His hand rested on her curvaceous hip, over the sheet. It was a warm, heavy, possessive touch. Not a healerʼs touch. A masterʼs touch.

She didnʼt push him away. She didnʼt even flinch. She felt she had lost the right to object to his touch. She belonged to him now, by right of conquest and by the weight of her own imagined sin.

The next few days saw a return to the healing routine. But everything had changed.

Wang Jian acted like a model gentleman... mostly. He didnʼt initiate sex again. He didnʼt say lewd things. He was polite, distant, professional.

This ”gentlemanly” behavior was torture for Lianhua. It made her feel even guiltier, seeing how noble he was compared to her own ”depravity.” It also, confusingly, maddeningly, made her miss his savage touch. Her body, awakened by his marathon possession, now ached with a constant, low-level need that his polite distance only exacerbated.

He touched her only when ”necessary” for healing. But his definition of necessary had become... broad.

”The energy flow near your heart is still turbulent,” he announced one afternoon, three days after their ʼincidentʼ.

Lianhua, now sitting dutifully nude on the bed for her session, nodded. ”Yes, Jian.”

He didnʼt explain what he was going to do. He didnʼt ask for permission. He simply stepped between her legs and placed both hands directly onto her massive breasts.

He didnʼt just place them there. He grabbed them. He squeezed the soft, heavy globes, his fingers digging in, kneading them with a rhythmic, aggressive pressure.

Lianhua gasped, her face flaming. ”Jian... is this...?”

”Quiet,” he commanded softly. ”I need to stimulate the flow.”

He leaned down. He didnʼt use his hands for the next part. He opened his mouth and took one massive, nipple-crowned globe entirely into his mouth. He began to suck, hard, loudly, his tongue swirling around the sensitive, stiffening peak.

It was incredibly erotic, deeply improper, and absolutely necessary... according to him.

He spent the next hour like that. He fondled her breasts aggressively, pulling them, weighing them, squeezing them together. He sucked on her nipples until they were raw and swollen, his teeth occasionally grazing the sensitive skin, sending jolts of pure electricity straight to her womb.

”Mmmph... ah... Jian...” she moaned, unable to stop herself, her hands gripping the bedsheets.

He gave no explanation. He offered no apologies this time. He just took. He feasted on her magnificent chest, treating her body like his personal healing conduit.

And she didnʼt stop him. She couldnʼt. She could feel the Verdant Essence flowing into her faster than ever before, stimulated by his ”techniques.” Her cultivation was soaring, breaking through barrier after barrier. She was already at the peak of the Twelfth Stage of Qi Condensation, on the very verge of re-entering Foundation Establishment.

She told herself it was for the healing. She told herself she deserved this treatment for what she had done to him. But deep down, a dark, secret part of her was revelling in it, addicted to the feeling of his mouth on her skin.

On the fourth day, just as she felt her foundation stabilizing enough to attempt a breakthrough, Wang Jian received a transmission.

He stood up abruptly, pulling her robe over her flushed, naked form.

”They are here,” he announced, his voice grim.

”Who?” she asked, disoriented by the sudden cessation of his touch.

”Ruyan. And the others.”

Within the hour, four figures arrived at the rented courtyard, weary, travel-stained, but alive. Liu Ruyan led them, followed by Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue. They had fled the sect in the chaos of the coup, guided by the emergency escape routes and contingency plans Wang Jian had secretly provided them weeks ago.

Before they entered, Wang Jianʼs eyes had flashed with a cold, commanding light. He had sent a single, stern mental message to all four women simultaneously: ”Do not reveal our true relationship. To Sect Mistress Lianhua, I am just Junior Brother Wang, Ruyanʼs heroic friend who helped you all escape. Treat me with normal respect, nothing more. One slip up, one lustful glance, and you will ALL be punished severely.”

The door opened.

”Teacher!” Liu Ruyan cried out, rushing into the room.

”Ruyan!” Lianhua, overcome with emotion, stood up unsteadily and embraced her disciple. ”Oh, thank the heavens! Youʼre safe!”

She looked at the others, tears streaming down her face. ”And Qiu Yun, Su Ning, Bai Xue... you all escaped! It is a miracle!”

They all hugged her, crying, playing their parts perfectly. ”It was all thanks to Junior Brother Wangʼs contingency plans, Sect Mistress,” Qiu Yun said, her voice appropriately respectful and grateful, giving Wang Jian a polite bow.

”Yes, he saved us all,” Su Ning added softly, eyes downcast demurely.

Bai Xue just nodded, looking at Wang Jian with wide, hero-worshipping eyes that Lianhua interpreted as simple gratitude.

Wang Jian stood in the corner of the room, watching the touching reunion with a calm, gentle smile on his face.

But inside, he was laughing. A sinister, triumphant laugh.

He looked at them. His pawn, Ruyan. His three broken sluts. And his conquered, guilt-ridden queen. All of them together. All of them his.

As he watched Lianhua hug Ruyan, a new, deeply depraved plan began to form in his mind. The guilt was good, but it wasnʼt enough to break her final moral barriers. He needed something more. He needed to use her love for Ruyan against her.

ʼYes...ʼ he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the two women embrace. ʼThe perfect lever. I will use the disciple to finally, completely, break the master.ʼ