Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

"Sect Leader," Jiu Zui greeted, offering a shallow, casual bow that only a fellow Sovereign could get away with. He placed a hand between Ji’an’s shoulder blades, pushing her forward slightly. "Allow me to introduce my sole apprentice formally. Lin Ji’an."

Sect Leader Bai’s dark, infinitely deep eyes shifted to Ji’an.

Ji’an hastily executed a flawless, perfectly angled junior’s bow, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Greetings, Sect Leader," Ji’an said, ensuring her voice remained in its smooth, respectful young-master register. "It is an honor to stand in your presence."

"Rise, Martial Uncle Lin," Bai Yunfei chuckled softly, reaching out to gently lift her by the elbow. His touch was warm, carrying no trace of arrogant superiority. "The honor is mine. The reports of your... unique culinary Dao have reached even my secluded chambers. I am told you possess the ability to restore meridians with a mere bowl of soup. Our sect is truly blessed to harbor such innovative talent."

Ji’an stood up, her face burning.

He was so polite.

He was so incredibly nice. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

And he was standing right next to Jiu Zui, creating a vortex of overwhelming, mature masculine beauty that was actively short-circuiting Ji’an’s brain.

’He is a generation older than me,’ Ji’an panicked internally, desperately trying to maintain eye contact without blushing. ’He is my boss’s boss. Why does everyone in this sect look like they were carved out of jade by a thirsty Renaissance sculptor?! It’s like I am being surrounded by a bunch of supermodels!’

"You are too kind, Sect Leader," Ji’an managed to stammer, offering a modest, flustered smile. "I merely cook what the ingredients demand."

"Humility is a rare virtue in the young," Bai Yunfei smiled, releasing her elbow. "Please, enjoy the reception. The evening is young, and the future of our sect is gathered here tonight."

Jiu Zui nodded to the Sect Leader, grabbing Ji’an by the back of her robes and hauling her away from the dais before she could embarrass him further.

"Stop looking at him like a stunned mullet," Jiu Zui grumbled, dragging her toward a quieter corner of the hall near a massive, carved stone pillar. "You are embarrassing the Drunken Peak."

"I am not a stunned mullet!" Ji’an hissed, rubbing her burning cheeks. "I was just caught off guard! I expected the Sect Leader to be a terrifying, ruthless tyrant, not a majestic, polite immortal who looks like he belongs on the cover of a romance scroll!"

"This entire sect is a romance scroll, brat. You just haven’t realized it yet," Jiu Zui muttered under his breath, taking a goblet of wine from a passing servant. He leaned against the pillar. "Stay here. Do not go around and cause an international incident. I must go insult the Sovereign of the Pill Peak while I still have the leisure to walk around."

With that, the old master vanished into the crowd, leaving Ji’an entirely alone in the corner of the grand hall.

Left to her own devices, Ji’an let out a long, shaky breath.

She pressed her back against the cool stone of the pillar, seeking the shadows, and finally allowed herself to survey the room.

The Grand Hall of Ascending Heavens was vast, but her enhanced cultivator vision easily pierced the distance.

And as her silver-flecked eyes swept across the glittering, opulent crowd, a profound, sinking feeling of sheer, unadulterated physical inadequacy washed over her.

She felt like a potato.

No, a potato had utility.

She felt like an ugly, gray squid that had accidentally flopped into an enclosure entirely populated by radiant, flawless peacocks.

Every single major male character, every apex predator, every protagonist, every psychotic love interest, was present in this room.

And they were all, without exception, blindingly, aggressively handsome.

Across the hall, standing near an ice-sculpture fountain, was the Eternal Cloud faction.

Elder Qin Changxu stood tall and immaculate in his silver robes, the epitome of the Heartless Dao.

But as Ji’an’s eyes landed on him, the ancient immortal flinched.

He looked directly at her, his pristine mask cracking as a look of intense, suppressed anger flashed across his face.

He quickly looked away, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his wine goblet, clearly battling the horrific, taboo memories of the bathhouse.

And standing right beside him was Xie Wangchen.

The Ice Demon had forgone his usual simple robes for an outfit of breathtaking, ethereal majesty.

He wore flowing white silk embroidered with actual, microscopic diamonds that caught the light like snowfall.

His new, cascading silver hair was partially pinned back, and his ruby eyes were tracking Ji’an through the crowd with absolute, unblinking, laser-guided precision.

When he saw her looking at him, a slow, impossibly tender, secret smile curved his lips, a smile meant exclusively for her, sending a jolt of pure heat straight to her core.

Ji’an hastily tore her gaze away, her heart doing backflips, and looked toward the eastern wing of the hall.

There, surrounded by a wide, empty berth of terrified minor nobles, stood the feral and demonic contingents.

A temporary diplomatic truce had been called for the tournament, allowing foreign dignitaries to attend.

Hu Yanlie, the Beast Lord, looked like a caged god of war.

He wore dark, sleeveless armor that displayed his massive, scarred musculature.

His wild hair was loose, and his glowing amber eyes were fixed on Ji’an with a hunger that practically stripped the clothes from her back.

He actually let out a low growl when a random servant walked too close to her pillar.

Not far from Yanlie, lounging against a balcony railing with supreme, dark elegance, was Yan Xuanye, the Supreme Demon Lord.

He was draped in shadows, his mouth raised with a cruel, sensual smirk.

When Ji’an looked at him, he raised his goblet in a mocking, deeply alluring toast, his eyes promising a hundred different, exquisite tortures that all ended in a bed of dark silk.

Ji’an shuddered, averting her eyes again, only to find the Imperial faction.