Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

"Bai Hao used to wake up two hours before dawn to carry entire boulders up a mountain just to warm up his shoulders for kneading dough! Besides, you have absolutely nothing to complain about regarding your workload. I practically gave you a vacation by delegating the cleanup!"

Ji’an peeked one eye open, shivering in the cool morning air. "Delegating the cleanup? What cleanup?"

Jiu Zui grinned with a wicked, fiercely smug smile. "You didn’t think we could just blow up an auction podium, steal fifty million spirit stones, and walk out of Cloud-Burst City without leaving a massive bureaucratic nightmare behind, did you? The city guards were mobilizing before we even hit the stratosphere."

Ji’an sat up, her eyes widening. "Oh, MSG. You’re right. We are going to be arrested. The Sect Leader is going to execute us for starting a diplomatic incident with the underground syndicates!"

"Relax, kid. I took care of it," Jiu Zui laughed, taking a swig from his ever-present gourd. "Do you remember those four incredibly annoying, overachieving brats who were showing off their trust funds at the Grand Heavenly Auction?"

Ji’an blinked. "You mean the Protagonists? Zhiwei, Wangchen, Lu Jianheng, and Xiao Yichen?"

"Whatever you call them," Jiu Zui waved his hand dismissively. "As we were flying out, I spotted them leaving the VIP pavilion. So, I dropped a little spiritual message sphere on their heads. I told that smiling prince and the grumpy kid that if they didn’t go down into the Black Market, smooth over the incident with the guards, forge some paperwork stating the auction house was shut down for ’health code violations,’ and pay off any collateral damage... I would personally inform their respective Peak Masters about their little clandestine shopping trips."

Ji’an’s jaw dropped so far it nearly hit her lap.

"You blackmailed the Imperial Second Prince and the heir to the Sword Peak into doing our janitorial work?!" Ji’an gasped.

"I also told the Merchant boy, too, that if he didn’t cover the structural damages out of his own pocket, I would accidentally set fire to his secret ledger archives," Jiu Zui added proudly. "They handled it. The Black Market is quiet, and the Sect Leader knows nothing. You are entirely in the clear."

Even if the Sect Leader knew, he wouldn’t dare to recklessly come and accuse Lin Ji’an, considering her backing, but still...

The mental image of the four most powerful, arrogant, and untouchable geniuses of the Inner Sect rolling up their sleeves to clean up the rubble of a black market podium, purely out of fear of a drunken elder, was too much.

Ji’an burst out laughing, the lingering, awkward tension of her spicy dream entirely forgotten. "Master, you are a menace to society. I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, save the flattery for the stove," Jiu Zui snorted, turning toward the door. "Get dressed, glutton. I want you in the kitchen in ten minutes. We are going to practice condensing your Qi until you can slice a boulder in half with a butter knife without breaking a sweat."

The morning training was, as promised, absolute hell.

The internal meridian compression technique of the Dao of the Iron Wok did not require Ji’an to lift heavy weights or bulk up her muscles.

Instead, it required her to sit in a painfully complex lotus position, ingest highly volatile, Yang-heavy spiritual herbs, and manually, forcefully crush the resulting expanding Qi down into the deepest, microscopic fibers of her existing muscles.

It felt like her bones were being placed in a hydraulic press while simultaneously being submerged in boiling oil.

But Ji’an endured it.

Every time she felt like screaming, every time she wanted to pass out, she pictured Xie Wangchen’s devastatingly soft smile, and the terrifying threat of Gu Zhiwei’s golden retriever charm swooping in to steal her premium dishwasher.

’I will not wear a green hat,’ Ji’an chanted in her mind, gritting her teeth until they ached. ’I’ll look fabulous, and I will hit those bastards like a truck.’

By the time the sun reached its zenith, the grueling session was over. Ji’an collapsed onto the kitchen floor, panting, completely soaked in sweat.

She didn’t look any different; her frame was still lean, agile, and slender, but when she accidentally bumped her elbow against a solid oak chair as she tried to stand up, the chair violently splintered into kindling.

"Careful, kid," Jiu Zui chuckled, tossing her a towel. "You’re walking around with the mass of a rhino compressed into the body of a teenager. You’ll need to learn how to dial it back before you accidentally crush someone’s hand in a greeting."

Ji’an flexed her fingers, marveling at the terrifying, dense power humming beneath her skin. "This is incredible. I feel like I could tenderize a steak by glaring at it."

She quickly washed up, changing into a fresh set of her white Inner Sect robes, tying her gray apron securely around her waist.

It was time to face the music.

It had been a full two days and a night since the incident in the bathing chamber.

She had left that day so hastily, and she had run away from him in the bathhouse, then subsequently vanished into the Black Market without a word.

Knowing the Ice Demon’s intensely paranoid, yandere disposition, Ji’an assumed he was currently either vibrating with anxiety, furious with betrayal, or actively plotting to freeze the entire mountain range to keep her from leaving again.

’I have to apologize. I have to appease the dragon before he burns down the village,’ Ji’an strategized. ’And the only language Wangchen truly understands is culinary bribery.’

She set to work.

She wasn’t going to make a simple bowl of soup. This required an apology of epic, Michelin-star proportions.

Ji’an commandeered the hearth. She pulled out the Cloud-Silk Truffles, a rack of premium, spiritual Frost-Boar Ribs, and a delicate, highly sensitive Moon-Lotus Flour that required absolute precision to knead.

For her little brother, Lin Xuan, who was currently outside.