Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 938: Sect Mistress Lianhua Recovers Her Cultivation Entirely

The tension permeating the City Lord's manor was so palpable it could almost be sliced with a blunt blade. This was no tranquil silence born of meditation; it was the heavy, suffocating pressure of a powder keg on the verge of detonating.

Elder Fu Yan occupied the head of the table, appearing as though he had aged half a century overnight. His complexion was ashen, his eyes were bloodshot, and he massaged his temples with such force it seemed he was trying to crush his own skull to alleviate the throbbing headache within.

Standing before him were his two "allies," both seemingly ready to leap at each other's throats at any moment.

To the left, Deacon Jiao of the Azure Sword Clan trembled with fury, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the hilt of his blade. His aura fluctuated violently, sharp and erratic.

"Your puppet ran my nephew through!" Deacon Jiao bellowed, spraying spit across the tabletop. "He is crippled, Fu Yan! The Meridians in his sword arm have been severed! This is a violation of our pact! It is a declaration of war! I demand immediate restitution, and I want that wretched puppet master’s head delivered on a platter before sunset!"

On the opposite side stood the unit commander from the Silent Puppet Guild. The man was as stoic as a boulder. Draped in somber grey robes, he remained motionless, staring with hollow eyes while Deacon Jiao continued his tirade.

"Your 'nephew' is nothing more than an arrogant thug who drew his steel first," the Guild leader retorted. His voice was a flat, grating monotone that only served to further incense Jiao. "Our unit followed protocol and acted in self-defense. Furthermore, your disciples obliterated three of our expensive 'Shadow-Stalker' constructs during their drunken rampage. Such materials are far from cheap. We demand compensation for the destruction of our assets."

Fu Yan felt as though his brain were about to fracture.

"Enough! Silence from both of you!" Fu Yan roared, slamming his palm onto the table. "It was a mere tavern scuffle! A misunderstanding sparked by youth and wine! We are on the precipice of seizing control of the entire Sect! The ceremony is only three days away! Can you not set aside this trivial grievance until the prize is secured?"

Deacon Jiao let out a harsh, ugly scoff. "A misunderstanding? You label the loss of my nephew's arm a misunderstanding? And what of the root cause? What about those women? Those Crimson Pill disciples who ignited this disaster?"

Fu Yan paused. He had dispatched search parties and combed the city. "They... they have vanished!"

The Puppet Guild commander produced a sound that resembled a sneer. "Are you claiming you lack the ability to locate three young girls in your own city? A city governed by your own faction?"

Deacon Jiao narrowed his gaze. "It seems rather convenient, doesn't it? As if someone intended for us to clash. Or perhaps someone is concealing the witnesses."

Fu Yan ground his teeth. He was well aware of how suspicious this appeared. Those three women—Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue—had seemingly evaporated. His patrols had turned up nothing. No spiritual traces remained, and no witnesses had seen them depart. It was as if they had simply ceased to exist.

"My finest trackers are on the case," Fu Yan lied through gritted teeth. "But unity is our current priority. Listen to me. I will provide compensation. To both of you."

He inhaled deeply, offering a promise that caused him physical distress. "I shall open the treasury. I will pay double the standard rate for the wounded men and the destroyed puppets. A massive sum. Enough to purchase ten nephews and a hundred puppets. But you must maintain the peace for three days. Only three days! Once I am Sect Leader, you shall have everything you desire."

Deacon Jiao and the Puppet commander traded a look. It was not a look of consensus, but one of cold, calculating avarice laced with profound suspicion.

"Very well," Deacon Jiao spat. "Three days. But if that mountain of spirit stones does not manifest, I will harvest it from your corpse."

"Agreed," the Puppet commander droned. "Payment shall be rendered upon completion."

They turned and exited without a single bow, leaving Fu Yan alone in the quiet chamber. He slumped into his seat, feeling utterly exhausted.

A sickening sensation churned in his gut—a premonition that events were spiraling beyond his command. However, he suppressed the feeling. He only needed to endure until the coronation. Once the Sect Master's seal was in his hand and he occupied the throne, all would be well.

"Guard!" he summoned. "Dispatch a team to the Herbal Garden and the Scripture Hall. Ensure all is prepared for the transition. I require a full inventory."

He was oblivious. He had no inkling that while he played the role of mediator, his home had already been ransacked.

An hour later, the doors to his study were thrown open violently.

A disciple burst inside, his face the color of ash, tripping over his own feet as he fell to his knees, gasping for air.

"Elder... Elder!" the disciple stammered, his eyes wide with fright.

"What has happened?!" Fu Yan snapped, rising to his feet. "Speak!"

"The... the core medicinal garden..." the disciple managed to choke out. "It is ruined, Elder! It is gone!"

Fu Yan went rigid. "What do you mean, ruined?"

"The Spirit-Gathering Tree... it has been taken! Uprooted entirely! And the herbs... the Thousand-Year Ginsengs, the Spirit Lotuses... all of it! The earth has been stripped bare! There is nothing left but soil, Elder! Just dirt!"

Before Fu Yan could digest this disaster, another disciple rushed in, looking equally petrified.

"Elder! A report from the Scripture Hall!"

Fu Yan felt his strength failing him. "What? What of the Scripture Hall?"

"The guards... they were found unconscious behind the pillars! And the interior... the shelves... they are bare! The scrolls, the jade slips, the ancient texts... all swept away! Nothing remains but dust!"

Fu Yan recoiled, gripping the edge of his desk to stay upright. "Impossible... the arrays... the guards..."

"There is more," the first disciple whispered, shaking. "We... we discovered something in the garden. A junior brother tried to examine the hole where the tree once stood... he triggered a trap. Black needles. He is paralyzed. But before he collapsed... he spotted a rune etched into the earth."

"What kind of rune?" Fu Yan hissed.

"It appeared... it looked like a control sigil from the Silent Puppet Guild, Elder."

Fu Yan’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"And in the Scripture Hall," the second disciple added frantically, "we found a symbol carved into the central pedestal. A sword. The mark of the Azure Sword Clan."

Fu Yan stood frozen as his entire reality crumbled.

It couldn't be Lianhua. She was a cripple. She lacked the means to do this.

It was his allies.

Those avaricious, treacherous vultures! They had deceived him! They had orchestrated that tavern brawl as a mere diversion—a smokescreen! While he was occupied settling their petty disputes, they had pillaged his Sect! The Puppet Guild had seized the herbs for their alchemy and wood cores, while the Azure Sword Clan had taken the techniques to bolster their own ranks!

They were stripping the Sect of its assets before he could even claim the throne!

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Fu Yan threw his head back and emitted a roar of primal, soul-shattering fury that caused dust to fall from the rafters.

"TRAITORS! THIEVES! THEY SHALL PAY! THEY WILL ALL PAY!"

He remained unaware of the Crimson Dragon Cauldron. He assumed it was still protected within the secret vault that only the Sect Mistress could access. He believed that even if the halls were looted, the ultimate treasure remained out of reach.

But the rest... the herbs... the scriptures... the very Foundation of the Sect... it was all lost.

He seized his sword, his eyes burning with a mad light. He would slaughter them. He would kill Jiao. He would kill that puppet freak.

The alliance was no longer merely fractured; it was dead. And soon, the streets would be stained with blood.

Miles away from the screaming Elder and the unfolding chaos, the environment was entirely different.

Within the rented courtyard, the air was serene and fragrant.

Wang Jian and Sect Mistress Lianhua materialized in the main chamber, emerging from the shadows as Wang Jian deactivated his concealment technique.

Liu Ruyan was waiting, pacing with anxiety. She looked up, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Did you succeed?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Wang Jian simply offered a calm, self-assured smile. He approached the table and made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

Clunk.

A small, teacup-sized cauldron of dark red metal appeared on the wood. It sat there, heavy and unassuming, yet vibrating with a faint, primordial heat.

Liu Ruyan gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. As an alchemist, she immediately sensed the power emanating from it. "It... it is true. You actually obtained it."

"The Crimson Dragon Cauldron," Wang Jian stated casually. "Successfully acquired."

He did not stop there, opening his spatial pouch once more.

"And a few other mementos."

He began to empty the pouch, releasing a literal cascade of treasure. Scroll after scroll of ancient techniques tumbled out. Jade boxes filled with Thousand-Year herbs piled high. Rare ores. Artifacts.

The room was soon filled with a brilliant, multicolored spiritual glow. The fragrance from the medicinal herbs was so concentrated it made the air feel thick and intoxicating.

Liu Ruyan and Sect Mistress Lianhua could only stare. They were witnessing the accumulated riches of a millennium. The entire legacy of a major Sect was now a pile on the floor of a rented residence.

The three of them stood around the mountain of wealth. The greed in the room was almost tangible. It wasn't just Wang Jian; even the women felt the exhilaration of holding such power.

"This," Wang Jian said, indicating the hoard with a grand gesture, "is ours. This is the Foundation of our new strength. The Crimson Pill Sect is now nothing more than a name. The true Sect... is right here in this room."

Sect Mistress Lianhua looked at the cauldron and then at Wang Jian. Her eyes shimmered with a dark, vengeful satisfaction. "I did it, Jian," she whispered. "I helped you ruin him. He has nothing left."

Wang Jian turned toward her. He recognized the expression in her eyes—the devotion, the compliance, the twisted pride.

"You did," he concurred.

He pulled her into his embrace, momentarily ignoring Liu Ruyan. He discarded all sense of propriety. He no longer felt the need to hide anything.

"And you have earned your compensation."

He kissed her. It was no gentle touch. He gripped the back of her head and pressed his lips firmly against hers, his tongue claiming her mouth. He groped her without hesitation, his hands moving over her body, asserting his ownership right in front of her disciple.

Liu Ruyan watched, a small smile on her lips. She felt no jealousy. Instead, she felt... complete. She was happy for her Master and her lover. Their twisted family was finally whole.

Wang Jian ended the kiss, leaving Sect Mistress Lianhua flushed and out of breath.

"Now," he said, looking at both of them, his hands still resting possessively on Lianhua's hips. "We shall rest. We will Cultivate. We will absorb these riches. And we shall let Fu Yan tear himself to pieces."

"What about the three women?" Ruyan inquired. "The ones who assisted?"

"I will send instructions to our three little spies," Wang Jian mused, a malicious glint in his eye. "Their task is only beginning. They must now circulate rumors. Fuel the fire. Tell the Azure Sword Clan that the Puppet Guild pilfered the cauldron. Tell the Puppet Guild that Fu Yan is keeping the treasures for himself."

He chuckled softly. "We will let them devour one another. By the time they understand what has transpired, we will be far away."

That night, the bed in the rented courtyard was occupied by three.

Wang Jian lay in the center, with Sect Mistress Lianhua on one side and Liu Ruyan on the other. The priceless Crimson Dragon Cauldron sat on the nightstand, a silent witness to the birth of their dark new alliance.

Wang Jian drew them both close. He kissed Ruyan's brow and then buried his face against Lianhua's neck. He had triumphed. He had plundered the Sect, broken its queen, and secured his future.

"Sleep well, my pets," he whispered into the dark. "Tomorrow, we begin constructing our empire."

The following morning, Wang Jian met Qiu Yun, Su Ning, and Bai Xue in a quiet alley. They appeared exhilarated, still riding the high of the tavern brawl’s success.

"You three performed admirably," he commended them, providing each with a small pouch of high-grade spirit stones as a reward. "But the game continues."

He outlined their new objective.

"You will return to the city," he commanded. "But avoid the factions directly; it is too risky. Instead, I want you to 'confide' in your admirers among the common folk. The merchants. The rogue cultivators. The gossiping servants."

He leaned in closer. "Spread contradictory tales. Create a fog of war."

He looked at Qiu Yun. "Whisper to people that you heard Fu Yan paid the Puppet Guild with herbs from the core garden... the very one he claimed was ruined by blight."

He turned to Su Ning. "Tell people you spotted Jiao Feng's men lurking near the Scripture Hall just before the alarms sounded... and that they were carrying heavy sacks."

He looked at Bai Xue. "And you, my innocent flower... tell everyone, with tears in your eyes, that you heard Fu Yan cannot pay his allies because the Sect Mistress drained the treasury before fleeing, and now he is framing everyone else to hide his bankruptcy."

"The objective is absolute chaos," Wang Jian stated firmly. "I want everyone accusing everyone else. I want paranoia to be the very air they breathe."

The three women nodded, eager to be of use. They disappeared into the crowds, three beautiful viruses set to infect the city with discord.

Back at the Sect, Fu Yan was trapped in a nightmare.

He sat in his ruined study, piles of reports on his desk detailing the theft, the rune, and the brawl.

Then, a heavy pounding came at his door.

Deacon Jiao and the Puppet Guild leader entered without waiting for an invitation.

"Payment," Jiao growled. "Now. We are leaving this cursed place. I want my spirit stones."

"And the restitution for my units," the Puppet leader added.

Fu Yan stood, covered in sweat. "Yes. Yes, of course. The treasury. Let us proceed to the treasury."

He escorted them to the massive vault doors and used his key. The heavy doors creaked open.

Inside... was nothing but air.

Empty shelves. Empty chests.

Fu Yan stared, blinking in disbelief.

"It is... it is empty," he whispered.

He turned to face his allies.

Deacon Jiao's face turned a deep shade of purple. "Empty? EMPTY?!"

"You have deceived us," the Puppet leader said, his monotone voice dropping to a menacing buzz. "You summoned us here. You made us shed blood. And now you claim the pot is empty?"

"No! No!" Fu Yan cried out. "It was Lianhua! She must have taken it! I had no idea!"

"Liar!" Jiao unsheathed his sword. "You are hoarding it! You are trying to swindle us!"

The alliance shattered instantly at the vault entrance.

Fu Yan, the new Sect Master of the Crimson Pill Sect, found himself presiding over a barren wasteland, surrounded by empty halls and two armies of enraged mercenaries seeking his head.

He fled. He had no other choice. He blasted a path out of his own treasury and escaped into the hills, a fugitive in his own home.

The hunt began. The Azure Sword Clan and the Silent Puppet Guild, each believing they had been betrayed by Fu Yan and the other, declared open season on the Crimson Pill Sect's leadership.

They tore the Sect apart in search of loot that was already miles away in Wang Jian's possession.

While the Crimson Pill Sect was consumed by the fires of avarice and paranoia, Wang Jian, Sect Mistress Lianhua, and Liu Ruyan were long gone.

They traveled deep into the wilderness, settling in a secure safehouse within a natural cave system, protected by ancient arrays that Wang Jian had enhanced.

"This is the place," Wang Jian said, inspecting their new sanctuary. "Deep seclusion."

They began the arduous process of integrating their gains.

Days were spent studying ancient scrolls and deciphering pill formulas. Liu Ruyan and Lianhua worked in tandem, their master-disciple bond restored yet fundamentally changed by their shared status as Wang Jian's women.

One evening, while resting after sorting through the herbs, Sect Mistress Lianhua approached Wang Jian.

She knelt before him.

"Master," she said softly. "I know."

He looked at her. "You know what?"

"I know you can heal me," she said, meeting his gaze. "Truly restore me. Back to my peak."

She pointed toward the loot. "I saw you in the garden. I witnessed your power. You have the resources now. You have the Tree. You have the knowledge. And I know... I know you are hesitating."

She took a breath. "You are concerned. You believe that if I regain my Cultivation, if I become a Core Formation expert again... I will turn against you. That I will kill you for what you did to me."

Wang Jian did not deny it. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "It is a valid concern, wouldn't you say? You are a proud woman, Lianhua."

"I was a proud woman," she corrected him. She crawled forward until she was at his feet, resting her hands on his knees. "But you shattered that woman. You remade her."

She looked up at him with eyes full of devotion. "I have abandoned revenge. I have abandoned pride. I know... I know I can be nothing but your woman. I belong to you entirely."

"Please," she pleaded. "Heal me. Not so I may rule, but so I may serve you better. So I can be strong for you."

Wang Jian looked at her and saw the sincerity in her eyes. She was not lying. She was broken, and she was his.

"I believe you," he said eventually. "But belief is not enough. I do not take risks."

He leaned forward. "There is a way. A guarantee."

"Tell me," she replied instantly.

"A Slave Seal," Wang Jian said, his voice cold. "Imprinted on your soul. And on your body. It will place your life and death directly in my hands. A single thought from me, and your soul will dissipate. You will never be able to harm me. You will never be able to refuse a command."

He watched her face, expecting her to waver.

Lianhua nodded without hesitation. "Do it. Implant the seal. I do not mind."

Wang Jian was slightly surprised, though he masked it well. "Very well."

He stood up. "Undress."

She stripped naked.