Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

Ji’an’s heart hammered a frantic, irregular rhythm against her ribs.

’He is threatening to snitch,’ Ji’an realised, a cold sweat breaking out down her spine. ’This sociopath bastard sure knows how to pick the right cards. But, oh well, so what?’

’Wangchen is a ticking yandere time bomb, and he’s holding the detonator. If he tells Wangchen I’m in a black market...’

’If he knows, then he knows. What can he do about it? As long as I’m fine, the least he would do is to nag me, that’s all.’

Before Ji’an could formulate a witty, deflecting response that didn’t sound completely panicked, Jiu Zui moved.

The Drunken Sovereign didn’t draw his rusted sword, nor did he raise his voice.

He simply took a single, heavy step forward, placing himself entirely between Xiao Yichen and Lin Ji’an.

The shift in the atmosphere was instantaneous and apocalyptic.

The drunken, stumbling aura of the wastrel vanished completely. In its place, a tidal wave of sheer, unadulterated Second Generation Sovereign pressure crashed over the immediate vicinity.

The cobblestones beneath Jiu Zui’s boots cracked, spider-webbing outward.

The glowing subterranean fungi on the cavern walls flickered and died, unable to withstand the suffocating weight of his spiritual domain.

Xiao Yichen’s smile froze as his eyes widened slightly, as the invisible, crushing weight forced him to physically brace his legs to avoid being driven to his knees.

"I don’t care if you wear a silk crown in the mortal realm, boy," Jiu Zui rumbled, his voice a low, vibrating growl that echoed with the resonance of a sleeping dragon waking up. "Down here, in the dark, royal blood just means you leave a prettier stain on the floor."

Jiu Zui took another step forward, closing the distance until he was mere feet from the Prince.

"You are looking at the sole apprentice of the Drunken Peak," Jiu Zui stated, his amethyst eyes burning with a terrifying, protective ferocity. "He is under my absolute protection. If you ever threaten him again, if you even breathe a word of this to that unstable ice block on Qin’s peak just to stir the pot, I will not care about sect politics. I will not care about your Emperor father. I will break every bone in your elegant body and toss you into the Abyssal Gorge. Do we have an understanding?"

Xiao Yichen, to his credit, did not panic. He was a master of psychological warfare.

But he was also a genius who recognised when he was utterly, hopelessly outmatched in raw power.

The Prince slowly, deliberately lowered his fan.

The mocking arrogance vanished from his face, replaced by a tight, perfectly controlled mask of polite submission. He executed a flawless, respectful bow.

"My deepest apologies, Master Sovereign," Xiao Yichen murmured, his voice entirely devoid of its usual playful lilt. "I meant no disrespect to you, or to Martial Uncle Lin. It was merely a... poorly timed jest. I shall forget I saw anyone in this alley."

"See that you do," Jiu Zui grunted, the crushing spiritual pressure instantly evaporating, plunging the cavern back into its normal, grimy state.

Xiao Yichen didn’t linger. He offered one last, unreadable glance toward the shadowed figure of Ji’an before melting seamlessly into the crowds of the bazaar, disappearing like a ghost.

Ji’an let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding, her knees trembling slightly.

She grabbed the back of Jiu Zui’s grey robes, her chef’s bravado returning now that the immediate threat was gone.

"Master, that was the most incredibly badass thing I have ever seen!" Ji’an whispered, her eyes shining with absolute awe. "You just humbled the sociopath without even lifting a finger! Five stars! Excellent service!"

Jiu Zui snorted, the terrifying sovereign disappearing as he scratched his messy hair and reached for his wine gourd. "Ah, the kid’s a snake. Snakes only respect a bigger boot. Don’t worry about him, Ji’an. I promised I’d protect and indulge you, didn’t I? As long as you don’t disobey me and try to fight Golden Core masters with kitchen utensils, I’ve got your back."

He turned back to the terrified, bandaged vendor who was currently shaking like a leaf, entirely ready to hand over the illegal dragon bone for free just to escape the Sovereign’s presence.

"Now," Jiu Zui clapped his hands together, his boisterous, drunken energy returning in full force. "Let’s finish this transaction! One bottle of Sovereign-grade Celestial Peach Wine for the oversized soup bone! Take it before I change my mind!"

The vendor practically snatched the jade bottle from the air, shoving the massive, pitch-black Abyssal Dragon Bone toward Ji’an.

Ji’an caught the heavy bone, her Harmonious Five-Grain Qi instantly resonating with the dense, marrow-rich energy locked inside.

Her culinary mind was already racing through a dozen different preparation methods.

’If I boil this for seventy-two hours with Spirit-Ginseng and a pinch of those Dragon-Breath peppercorns I scammed from Wangchen... the resulting broth will be thick enough to stand a spoon in. It’ll be pure, liquid vitality,’ Ji’an schemed, a massive grin spreading beneath her hood. She shoved the bone into her spatial ring.

"Alright, kid, where to next?" Jiu Zui laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "I haven’t been this entertained in a century. The Sect Leader’s treasury is still crying out to be squandered, and I have a reputation as a wastrel to uphold! Show me what else your weird, gluttonous little heart desires!"

For the next two hours, the Black Market experienced a localised economic boom driven entirely by a drunken elder and a sixteen-year-old chef with zero impulse control.

They wandered through the subterranean labyrinth, Ji’an acting as the world’s most dangerous food critic while Jiu Zui acted as her bottomless bank account.

"Master, look at that!" Ji’an pointed at a stall selling ancient, rusted alchemical cauldrons. "That’s a Thousand-Weave Spirit-Iron Cauldron! The heat distribution on that thing must be flawless! Do you know how perfectly I could sear a steak in that?!"