Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 935: Spirit Gathering Tree

The night air above the city was chilly, smelling of roasted meats, spilled spirits, and the sharp, metallic scent of coming bloodshed.

Wang Jian crouched low on the tiled roof of a nearby inn, his form merging seamlessly with the darkness. Next to him, Sect Mistress Lianhua and Liu Ruyan watched with focused intensity, their gazes locked on the glowing windows of the 'Drunken Immortal' tavern across the path.

"They are going in," Liu Ruyan murmured, indicating the entrance with a slender finger.

Below, the trio of beauties—Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue—stepped into the tavern. They did not enter as a group. Moving like total strangers, they drifted inside one by one, their features hidden by the translucent veils Wang Jian had supplied, though their elegant robes suggested high status and even greater beauty.

Inside the establishment, the air was already heavy with smoke and aggression. Two distinct factions dominated the second floor.

On the left, taking up the largest tables, were the elite disciples of the Azure Sword Clan. They were loud and rowdy, already becoming intoxicated on potent spirit wine.

Jiao Feng sat at the center of the group. As the nephew of Deacon Jiao, he possessed a sharp, handsome face that was unfortunately ruined by a constant sneer of pride. He was dressed in azure silk robes decorated with silver sword embroidery, his hand resting carelessly on the hilt of a high-grade spiritual weapon.

On the right, gathered in the shadowed corner tables, were the handlers from the Silent Puppet Guild. They remained silent, their movements stiff and calculated. Their leader, Mo Li, sat by himself at a small table. He was a gaunt, pale man with dark circles beneath his eyes; his fingers twitched incessantly as he calibrated the joints of a complex metal spider on the table.

Qiu Yun was the first to enter. She moved with a regal, fiery elegance, brushing off the stares of common mercenaries on the ground floor as she ascended the stairs. She spared no glance for Jiao Feng or anyone else. Simply taking a seat at a vacant table near the balcony, she ordered a pot of wine and sat there, gazing at the city lights with an aura of bored, untouchable grace.

Her cold demeanor served as the ideal bait.

"Well, well," Jiao Feng whispered, his eyes widening the moment he saw her. "A crimson flower in a field of weeds."

He snapped his fingers, summoning a servant. "Send a pitcher of the 'Celestial Dew' to that lady. Tell her Jiao Feng of the Azure Sword Clan wishes to drink with her."

Qiu Yun didn't even turn around when the wine arrived. She merely waved a hand in a dismissive gesture that spoke volumes. "I drink alone," her voice drifted through the room, sharp and cool.

Jiao Feng’s expression darkened briefly before shifting into a predatory smirk. "Playing hard to get? I like that."

Su Ning followed. She floated up the stairs like a soft breeze, her blue robes trailing behind her. She chose a seat near the corner, positioned relatively close to the Puppet Guild members. Pulling a small, leather-bound book from her sleeve, she began to read, her posture exuding a quiet, intellectual charm.

She looked up once, her eyes catching the metal spider Mo Li was manipulating. A flash of mingled terror and fascination crossed her face before she quickly returned to her reading.

Mo Li took notice. He stopped his tinkering. His cold, lifeless eyes locked onto her. It was rare for anyone to view his creations with anything other than revulsion.

Finally, Bai Xue appeared. She looked utterly lost, like an innocent child wandering into a den of wolves. She clutched her white robes tightly, searching for a seat while her gaze darted fearfully between the boisterous swordsmen and the unsettling puppet masters.

"Fresh meat," one of Jiao Feng’s followers chuckled, eyeing her lewdly.

Watching from the roof, Wang Jian narrowed his eyes. "Perfect spacing. They've engaged the targets' attention without saying a word. Now for the spark."

The tension inside was reaching a breaking point. Jiao Feng had stood up, cup in hand, and was walking toward Qiu Yun, clearly refusing to accept her rejection.

However, Bai Xue made her move before he could reach the table.

She walked past Mo Li’s table, appearing to look for a path to the balcony. As she moved past the brooding puppet master, she stumbled in a clumsy, panicked motion.

Crash!

She collided with Mo Li’s table. A flagon of wine tipped over, drenching Mo Li’s pale grey robes and the delicate metal spider he had been adjusting in dark red liquid.

The tavern fell into a dead silence.

Mo Li rose slowly. His movements were unnatural, resembling a puppet being jerked by strings. He stared at the stain on his clothes, then at the wet metal of his work.

"You clumsy... cow," Mo Li hissed in a dry, raspy voice.

"I... I'm so sorry!" Bai Xue cried out, cowering back with a voice shaking with terrified innocence. "I didn't mean to! I slipped!"

"You have contaminated the joints," Mo Li declared, his face expressionless even as his aura flared with cold, dark malice. "This alloy reacts poorly to spirit wine."

He lunged forward with blinding speed, seizing Bai Xue’s wrist. His grip was like a vice made of iron.

"You will pay for the materials," he commanded.

"Let go! You're hurting me!" Bai Xue screamed, pulling away as tears filled her eyes.

This was the signal.

Jiao Feng, who had been closing in on Qiu Yun, halted. He saw the disturbance. He saw a member of the Silent Puppet Guild—those unsettling, grave-robbing freaks his uncle was forced to tolerate—treating a beautiful, weeping girl roughly.

It was the ultimate chance to show off.

"Hey!" Jiao Feng bellowed, his hand moving to his sword hilt. "Get your hands off her, corpse-lover!"

He marched over, flanked by his Azure Sword disciples.

Mo Li did not release her. He turned his head slowly, his dead eyes meeting Jiao Feng’s. "This does not concern you, sword-swinger. She damaged my property."

"She's a lady, you freak!" Jiao Feng spat. He looked at Bai Xue, flashing her a charming, heroic grin. "Don't worry, miss. I won't let this thing touch you."

"Thank you, Young Master!" Bai Xue sobbed, playing her role flawlessly. "He... he tried to drag me away! I'll do anything... just please help me!"

"Anything?" Jiao Feng’s smile grew wider. He turned back to Mo Li. "You heard her. Let go. Or I'll chop that hand off."

"You threaten me?" Mo Li whispered.

From the corner, Su Ning stood up, her voice soft yet clear in the quiet room. "Please! Stop! That puppet master... he is dangerous! I saw his construct move on its own! It looked... evil!"

Her words acted like oil on a flame. The Azure Sword disciples already despised the dark arts of the Puppet Guild.

"Evil constructs!" one of Jiao Feng’s men yelled. "They're using demonic arts in the city!"

Qiu Yun also stood up, moving to stand behind Jiao Feng. She whispered poisonously into his ear, "Look at him. He doesn't respect you. He thinks he can ignore a direct order from the Azure Sword Clan. Are you going to let a grave robber insult your clan's honor like that?"

Jiao Feng’s face flushed red. "Let go!"

He unsheathed his sword. The steel rang out with a sharp, clear tone.

Mo Li didn't blink. He simply twitched a single finger.

CLICK-WHIRR.

A massive, humanoid puppet made of heavy black iron dropped from the rafters where it had been hiding. It landed with a thud between Mo Li and Jiao Feng, its arms ending in scythe-like blades.

"Threat identified," Mo Li declared. "Eliminate."

The puppet lunged, slashing at Jiao Feng.

"You dare!" Jiao Feng parried, sparks flying as his steel struck the dark iron.

First blood was spilled a moment later. Another puppet, a small insect-like construct crawling under the tables, struck out. Its razor-sharp leg cut across the thigh of an Azure Sword disciple.

"AHH! They drew blood! Kill them! Kill the freaks!"

The tavern exploded into instant chaos. Tables were flipped. Spirit energy flared—blue sword light clashing against the dark, oppressive aura of the puppets.

Wang Jian watched from the roof, his eyes narrowed. "Good. But not enough. They are holding back. They are afraid of starting a full war."

He lifted his hand, concentrating his spiritual energy into his fingertip, compressing it into a nearly invisible needle of force.

He aimed at Jiao Feng. The Young Master was currently parrying a strike from the iron puppet, his form steady and his defense solid.

Flick.

The needle of Qi flew through the open window. It was impossible to detect amidst the chaotic storm of energy filling the tavern.

It hit Jiao Feng perfectly on the "Hegu" acupoint of his right hand—the point governing grip strength.

Jiao Feng’s hand spasmed. His hold on his sword weakened for a split second.

That was all it took.

The iron puppet’s scythe swept past his failing guard.

SHHHKT.

The blade pierced through Jiao Feng’s shoulder, pinning him against the wooden pillar behind him.

"AAAAHHHHHH!" Jiao Feng shrieked in pure shock and agony.

"YOUNG MASTER!" his disciples screamed. "They're killing him! Slaughter them all!"

All restraint vanished. The Azure Sword disciples went into a frenzy, using lethal techniques to kill. The Puppet Guild handlers fought back in kind, deploying poison clouds and concealed darts.

In the middle of the storm, Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue gathered for a brief second.

"Now!" Qiu Yun hissed.

They crushed the jade talismans provided by Wang Jian.

FLASH.

Three bursts of white light blinded the fighters. When the light faded, the three beauties were gone, having been teleported miles away to safety.

They left behind a room soaked in blood, filled with screaming men and destroyed alliances.

"Perfect," Wang Jian whispered from the roof, spotting the city guards finally rushing toward the tavern. "The seed is planted. By morning, the Azure Sword Clan and the Silent Puppet Guild will be demanding each other's heads."

He turned to Sect Mistress Lianhua and Liu Ruyan. "Let's go. The show is over. We have work to do."

They went back to the rented courtyard as the sun began to set, staining the sky with bruised purple hues. The city sounds were frantic now, as rumors spread faster than the wind.

Wang Jian sat in the main hall, looking satisfied. Sect Mistress Lianhua sat on his lap, fully accepting her new role as his preferred seat. She wore her daring silk bikini, her back against his chest and her curves resting on his thighs.

His hands were active, as they always were when she was close. One arm was wrapped around her slim waist, holding her tight. The other slipped under the silk of her top, his fingers kneading her soft flesh, teasing her until she let out quiet, involuntary gasps.

Liu Ruyan sat across from them, unfolding a new map on the low table.

"The plan worked, Jian," she said, her eyes gleaming. "The city is in total disarray. Fu Yan has been called to the City Lord's manor to mediate. He is livid. He's pulled several elite guards from the inner sect to keep the peace."

"Excellent," Wang Jian murmured, leaning his face into the curve of Sect Mistress Lianhua’s neck and kissing her skin. "He's distracted. His forces are spread thin. Tonight is the night."

He studied the map Liu Ruyan had displayed. It was a precise diagram of the Crimson Pill Sect’s core medicinal garden.

"This is the target," Sect Mistress Lianhua said, her voice husky as Wang Jian’s hand squeezed her possessively. She pointed a trembling finger at the map. "The core garden. It is protected by the 'Four Seasons Array' and Fu Yan's personal elite guard."

"However," she continued, tracing a path that avoided the main gates, "there is a way in. An old maintenance tunnel used for irrigation by the founder centuries ago. It was sealed and forgotten, scrubbed from official maps. Only the Sect Mistress is told of its location."

"And where does it lead?" Wang Jian asked, nipping at her shoulder.

"Right into the center," she whispered. "Near the Spirit-Gathering Tree."

Wang Jian paused. "The Spirit-Gathering Tree?"

"Yes," Sect Mistress Lianhua confirmed. "It is the heart of the garden. An ancient, sentient plant. Its sap is legendary. It is said to be able to fix broken cultivation foundations and immensely increase the density of one's Qi."

Wang Jian’s eyes narrowed. A broken foundation? Like hers?

"Could it restore you?" he inquired.

"Perhaps," she said softly. "Not entirely. My meridians were shattered too badly. But... it could stabilize me. It could return my vitality and extend my life. And for a healthy cultivator... drinking the refined sap could help them unlock a special ocular technique."

"Ocular technique?" Wang Jian asked, his interest piqued.

"The 'Celestial Void Ocular Arts'," she explained. "It allows one to see through high-grade illusions, observe energy flows, and vastly improves spiritual perception. It is a forgotten art that requires that sap."

Wang Jian felt a wave of desire—for the treasure, and for the woman providing it.

"You are a treasure trove, Lianhua," he growled.

He pulled her closer. He kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth to taste her submission. His hand moved from her breast to her thigh, sliding over the smooth skin as his fingers danced near the edge of her bikini bottom.

He stood up, lifting her easily in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on. He didn't put her down. He paced the room as they planned, holding her body against him as if he couldn't let go.

"We strike tonight," he decided, his voice vibrating against her chest. "Fu Yan will be occupied with the tavern brawl. His attention is split. He won't be monitoring the garden."

He looked at Liu Ruyan. "Ruyan, stay here. Alert us if anyone comes. Activate the privacy arrays."

"Yes, Jian," Liu Ruyan nodded.

"Lianhua, you're with me. You know the tunnel."

"Yes, Master," Sect Mistress Lianhua whispered, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"We must be prepared," Wang Jian said. "Get the stealth gear ready. I'll make a few more high-grade concealment talismans."

He sat on the edge of the bed, still keeping Sect Mistress Lianhua on his lap. He didn't let her go even as he started laying out talismans on the nightstand.

"You need to be relaxed for this mission," he claimed, his hand returning to massage her breast with steady pressure. "Tension leads to mistakes."

Sect Mistress Lianhua leaned into him, her head on his shoulder, suggesting routes while he fondled her. The boundary between strategist and lover, between queen and slave, was totally gone. She enjoyed his touch. She enjoyed belonging to him.

"The tunnel entrance," she murmured, her eyes closing as his thumb circled her nipple. "It is hidden under the waterfall on the north face. Behind the water curtain."

"A classic," Wang Jian laughed.

The excitement of stealing from the sect that betrayed her and striking back at Fu Yan moved Sect Mistress Lianhua in an unexpected way. Combined with Wang Jian’s constant, possessive touch, she felt electric.

Wang Jian checked his storage ring, clearing a massive space. "Empty space ready for filling," he muttered. "We're taking everything."

"Everything," Sect Mistress Lianhua agreed.

"Let's go," Wang Jian said. "Darkness has fallen."

They left the courtyard as true night set in. The city was quieter than usual, a heavy silence hanging in the air after the fight. It was the perfect cover.

They moved quickly toward the outskirts, toward the sect's perimeter wall.

"We have a few hours before the best time for the guard rotation," Wang Jian noted, checking the moon.

He looked at Sect Mistress Lianhua. She was dressed in tight black night-walking clothes that clung to her magnificent figure. The adrenaline of the mission flushed her cheeks, making her look incredibly desirable.

"We have time," Wang Jian murmured, his voice thick.

He pulled her into a dark alley near the sect walls, hidden by a pile of crates.

"Jian?" she whispered in surprise.

He pressed her against the rough brick. He didn't say a word. He simply hiked up her black robes, bunching them at her waist.

"For luck," he whispered against her lips.

He didn't wait. He freed himself and entered her, taking her quickly and silently in the shadows.

It was raw and dangerous. Any bystander could have heard them. The risk was intensely arousing.

Sect Mistress Lianhua didn't fight him. She found herself participating, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him deeper. She muffled her moans against his shoulder, biting his robe to stay quiet. She met his thrusts with desperate energy.

She was becoming exactly what he had molded her to be—a creature of desire who found pleasure in his dominance, even in a dirty alley before a heist.

He finished quickly with a silent release. He held her for a moment until their breathing calmed.

Then, he stepped back and adjusted his robes.

Sect Mistress Lianhua smoothed her clothes, her face flushed but her eyes bright and focused. The tension had vanished, replaced by cold clarity.

"I am ready, Jian," she said.

He smiled. She used his name naturally now, without honorifics. Just him.

"Let's move."

They approached the sect perimeter. Patrols had been doubled due to the unrest, but Wang Jian activated his Void-Merging Breath. He extended his aura to wrap around Sect Mistress Lianhua, making them both invisible to spiritual sense and blending them into the shadows.

They slipped past the outer guards like ghosts, moving through the forest with silent speed.

They reached the waterfall, a roaring curtain of white water crashing into a deep pool.