Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

They were a dark, glossy, mahogany-brown color.

They were oval-shaped, deeply wrinkled, and possessed a shiny, chitinous-looking exterior.

Ji’an didn’t care about aesthetics.

She only cared about the iron content.

She reached into the bag, pulled out a handful of the dried dates, and tossed one into her mouth.

As she chewed on them, she felt the sweet, earthy flavor bursting on her tongue, closing her eyes as she let the warm sunlight wash over her face.

Crunch. Chew. Swallow.

Then reach for another.

She was half-asleep, relaxed in her misery, mindlessly snacking from the pile of dark, shiny, wrinkled ovals resting on the small table beside her lounge.

"Third Brother!"

The cheerful, energetic voice of Lin Xuan shattered the peace of the terrace.

Ji’an cracked one eye open, continuing to chew on a date, refusing to sit up. "What do you want, Xuan? Speak softly. My head hurts, my back hurts, and my patience is currently on backorder."

Thirteen-year-old Xuan bounded out onto the terrace, holding a stack of newly acquired military strategy scrolls.

He was wearing a bright yellow tunic, radiating the obnoxious, boundless energy of a boy who had slept a solid ten hours and was ready to conquer the day.

"Eldest Brother said you were feeling unwell! I came to see if you wanted me to read the strategies of the ancient River-Kings to you to pass the time!" Xuan beamed, walking toward the chaise lounge.

"I would rather eat glass, but thank you for the offer," Ji’an mumbled, reaching blindly to the table, her fingers closing around another dried red date.

Xuan stopped at the foot of the lounge.

His bright, silver-flecked eyes dropped to the small table.

He looked at the pile of dark, glossy, wrinkled, oval-shaped objects resting next to his sibling’s hand.

He watched as Ji’an casually tossed one of the objects into her mouth.

Crunch!

Xuan’s entire body went rigidly still.

The color vanished from the boy’s face with such velocity that it was a wonder he didn’t pass out.

His jaw dropped open, his eyes widening to comical, saucer-like proportions.

His hands began to tremble so violently that the military scrolls slipped from his grasp, clattering loudly onto the stone tiles of the terrace.

Ji’an stopped chewing, frowning at him. "Why are you looking at me like I just grew a second head? Did that bastard second prince walk in behind me?"

She glanced over her shoulder, finding nothing but an empty garden.

Xuan raised a trembling finger, pointing directly at the pile of dried fruit on the table.

"Third... Third Brother," Xuan whispered, his voice cracking, thick with a mixture of profound revulsion and terror. "Why... why are you eating the roaches?"

Ji’an froze.

The piece of chewed date was sitting heavily on her tongue.

She slowly lowered her gaze to the table.

She looked at the pile of Imperial Blood-Dates.

She looked at the dark, mahogany-brown color.

She looked at the shiny, chitinous, wrinkled exterior.

She looked at the oval shape that, if one squinted and completely abandoned their culinary knowledge, looked exactly like the abdomen of a massive, engorged Palmetto bug.

The psychological damage was instantaneous and catastrophic.

Ji’an’s brain, highly susceptible to suggestion due to her hormonal vulnerability, betrayed her.

For a split second, the sweet, earthy taste in her mouth morphed into the phantom, sickening crunch of an insect carapace.

Her stomach lurched violently.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in absolute horror, a muffled gag echoing in the back of her throat.

’Oh, my god. Oh my god, he ruined them. He ruined the dates. I am eating bugs. I am a monster!’ Ji’an’s mind shrieked, fully prepared to lean over the edge of the chaise lounge and expel the contents of her stomach into her father’s prized azalea bushes.

But then, the indignity of the situation struck her.

She was a classically trained chef!

She had negotiated with Black Market syndicates!

She had flipped a table over fujoshis!

She was not going to be psychologically defeated by a thirteen-year-old boy who lacked basic botanical knowledge!

The gag reflex was ruthlessly suppressed by an overwhelming surge of petty, spiteful, older-sibling fury.

Ji’an swallowed hard, forcing the chewed date down her throat.

She sat up so fast the blanket flew off her legs.

"They are not cockroaches, you uncultured, culinary swine!" Ji’an roared, swinging her legs off the lounge.

She lunged forward, moving with lightning speed.

She didn’t even use her Qi, as she used the raw power of sisterly wrath.

Smack!

Her open palm connected perfectly with the back of Lin Xuan’s head, a resounding, satisfying slap that sent the boy stumbling forward by half a step.

"Ow! Third Brother, why?!" Xuan yelped, rubbing the back of his head, looking up at her with wide, betrayed eyes.

"Because you are an idiot!" Ji’an barked, pointing a furious finger at him. "These are premium, sun-dried Imperial Blood-Dates! They cost fifty spirit stones a pound! They are packed with iron and Yang energy! They do not have legs! They do not have antennae!"

Xuan rubbed his head, looking skeptically at the pile on the table. "They... they look incredibly crunchy. And shiny. And bug-like. I am just looking out for your health! The books say that dark cultivators eat venomous insects to build immunity!"

"I am not a dark cultivator! I am menstru—" Ji’an caught herself just in time, snapping her mouth shut before she accidentally revealed her gender to the one person in the estate who still thought she was a boy.

She took a deep, angry breath, her chest heaving in anger and frustration for having a stupid guy for a brother.

She looked at Xuan’s terrified, disgusted face.

Then she looked at the pile of dates, which, despite her rational mind knowing exactly what they were, still looked disturbingly like a pile of dead roaches.

The nausea flared again.

She really, really didn’t want to eat them anymore.

But Lin Ji’an was nothing if not terrifyingly stubborn.