Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

She wanted to sit in a garden and stare blankly at a koi pond until her heart rate returned to a normal, non-lethal rhythm.

But the Official Sect Martial Ranking waited for no one.

The monolithic black spirit-stone Ranking Board back in the Celestial Sword Sect was updating constantly.

Disciples were grinding merit points like caffeinated squirrels hoarding nuts for an upcoming winter.

If Ji’an wanted to maintain her unrestricted hall pass to leave the mountain, her glorious and highly lucrative grocery-shopping visa, she needed to log high-tier missions.

And the next mission on her ledger was a subjugation request targeting a horde of mutated, armored crustacean-beasts, which was located outside the borders of the Azure Empire, deep within the treacherous Eastern Coastal Wastes.

Her departure date was looming.

The hourglass was draining.

She had exactly five days left in the capital.

And she was spending those five days hopelessly stressed out of her mind.

"If you pack one more jar of pickled radishes into that spatial ring, it is going to rupture the fabric of space-time and create a black hole made entirely of vinegar."

Ji’an didn’t look up from her packing.

She was currently kneeling on the floor of her luxurious bedchamber, surrounded by crates of premium-grade spices, rare herbs, and cooking utensils she had extorted from the estate’s quartermaster.

"Spatial rings do not care about mass, Xuan," Ji’an grunted, forcefully shoving a massive, sealed clay jar of fermented spirit-soy paste into the glowing aperture of the ring. "They only care about volume. And my volume is currently dedicated to ensuring that I do not have to eat unseasoned monster meat while I am trudging through a coastal swamp. Hand me the Szechuan peppercorns."

Thirteen-year-old Lin Xuan, sitting cross-legged on the plush carpet nearby, sighed heavily and handed over a burlap sack radiating a heat so intense it made the air shift.

The boy had recovered from his dungeon-induced trauma, returning to his default state of being a helpful, albeit concerned, little brother.

"Are you sure you have to leave so soon, Third Brother?" Xuan asked, his silver-flecked eyes drooping with genuine sadness. "Eldest Brother just got back. Father was hoping we could all take a trip to the summer estate. You haven’t even had time to relax properly."

Before Ji’an could answer, a dramatic wail echoed from the rafters above her canopy bed.

"He’s abandoning us! The Hero is a fraud! He promised to protect me, and now he is fleeing to the swamps to play with crabs!"

Ji’an squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Su Yin. Get down from the ceiling beams. I am not abandoning you. I am going to work."

A small, delicate figure dressed in immaculate, expensive pink silk dropped from the wooden rafters with surprising agility, landing squarely in the center of Ji’an’s pile of neatly folded traveling tunics.

Su Yin, the mysterious, impossibly clingy stray girl they had rescued from the Blood-Iron Syndicate, crossed her arms and offered a pout so devastatingly manipulative it could have toppled a small government.

"Work is just an excuse," Su Yin huffed, kicking a jar of cumin with her silk slipper. "You’re just trying to escape from me. You think I am too much of a burden. I am just a poor, orphaned merchant’s daughter who clings too tightly to the only light in her dark, miserable world."

’How does she know that she is a burden and too clingy, that I’m trying to escape from her? Is it that she can read my mind, or that she herself is aware of how annoying she can be? Self-conscious, I guess?’

Ji’an thought as she stole a glance at Su Yin before returning to her work again, there was no need to make it so obvious that she was thinking exactly like that, right?

"You literally threw a silver goblet at a maid yesterday because your tea was lukewarm," Ji’an retorted flatly. "You are not a tragic heroine out of some novel or drama; you are just a menace. And I’m not escaping you. I’m an orthodox cultivator. I have quotas to meet."

Su Yin threw herself dramatically onto the floor, wrapping her arms around Ji’an’s knee in a vice-like grip. "Then take me with you! I can carry your spices! I can peel your garlic! Don’t leave me in this boring, dusty military camp!"

"You cannot come to the Eastern Coastal Wastes, Su Yin. The crabs there are the size of carriages, and they possess acidic spit that melts through steel. You would just end up being an appetizer for monsters, at least," Ji’an stated, trying to pry the girl’s fingers off her leg. "Besides, my father has decided to officially adopt you as a ward of the estate until we can locate your ’merchant’ family. You are perfectly safe here."

Su Yin sniffled loudly, refusing to let go. "But I will be boooored! Xuan just reads military scrolls all day, and the older sisters only want to talk about poetry and... and you!"

Ji’an paused.

The struggle to detach the teenager temporarily ceased.

"Wait," Ji’an said, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, they only want to talk about me?"

Su Yin blinked up innocently, wiping a fake tear. "Oh, you know. They talk about how handsome you looked at the banquet, about your sword dance, and whisper about how tragic and brooding you are. And they talk a lot about your Eldest brother, too."

A cold, creeping dread began to pool in the pit of Ji’an’s stomach.

Ever since the Grand Royal Banquet, ever since that devastating, unscripted flute and sword duet, Ji’an’s life in the capital had devolved into a waking nightmare of gossip.

But it wasn’t the gossip that kept her awake at night.

It was the man who had played the flute.

Lin Ji’an was a transmigrator who prided herself on her ability to extract information.

She could read a room, manipulate a conversation, and bluff her way out of almost any situation using her arrogance and a sharp tongue.