Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

The prize was no longer just sect resources.

The prize was the Supreme Heavenly Yin Body.

The ultimate cultivation catalyst.

The key to absolute, undisputed power, wrapped in the guise of a beautiful, untouchable princess, backed by the political might of the entire Celestial Sword Sect.

In the feral contingent, Hu Yanlie threw his head back and let out a booming, earth-shaking laugh, his amber eyes burning with the thrill of the hunt.

To the Beast Lord, a tournament for a mate was the purest, most natural law of the wild.

In the orthodox section, Lu Jianheng’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, his aristocratic face pale with conflicted determination.

He didn’t want the Princess; his mind was entirely, embarrassingly obsessed with a foul-mouthed chef, but the honour of the Sword Peak demanded he seize the ultimate prize.

Wen Shiru adjusted his spectacles, his jade eyes calculating the unfathomable profit margins and political leverage an engagement to the Sect Leader’s daughter would yield his conglomerate.

And Xiao Yichen, the Imperial Prince, merely smiled behind his folding fan, already formulating a dozen different ways to poison his competitors before the tournament even began.

The stakes had been raised to the absolute, stratospheric maximum.

The battle royale was going to be a bloodbath of epic proportions.

In her shadowed corner, Lin Ji’an stood perfectly still.

She wasn’t looking at the cheering crowd.

She wasn’t looking at the feral beasts or the calculating merchants.

She was staring directly at Princess Bai Liyue.

The Princess, standing gracefully beside her father amidst the roaring applause, slowly lifted her demurely lowered head.

Her massive, doe-like eyes sought out the shadows of the stone pillar once more.

Bai Liyue looked right at Ji’an.

The ethereal, untouchable maiden offered a tiny, utterly devious, terrifyingly mischievous smile.

She didn’t wink this time.

She simply formed the words silently with her lips, exaggerating the syllables so Ji’an could read them perfectly from across the hall.

Win. For. Me.

Hero.

The blood in Ji’an’s veins instantly, completely flash-froze.

’She is out of her mind,’ Ji’an’s internal monologue shrieked, a wave of profound, apocalyptic horror washing over her. ’She doesn’t want the Beast Lord! She doesn’t want the Holy Son! She actually wants me! The stray kitten I accidentally rescued is actively trying to rig a continental death-match to force me into an engagement!’

Ji’an’s knees buckled slightly.

If she won the tournament, which she had absolutely no intention of doing, she would be forced to marry the Sect Leader’s daughter.

If she refused, she would be executed for insulting the Sect Leader.

If she revealed her gender to escape the marriage, she would be executed for deceiving the sect.

It was a flawless, inescapable, perfectly orchestrated trap by a teenage girl who had watched way too many dramatic romance plays.

"Brother Ji’an?"

Wangchen’s voice broke through her panic.

She looked up at him.

The Ice Demon was not cheering.

He was not looking at the Princess.

He hadn’t even registered the Sect Leader’s massive, game-changing announcement.

His ruby eyes were entirely focused on Ji’an’s horrified expression.

"Are you perhaps feeling unwell?" Wangchen asked, his brow furrowing with deep concern. He reached out, steadying her by the elbow. "The noise here is excessive. We can just leave if you want to."

Ji’an stared at his beautiful, flawless, completely oblivious face.

He didn’t care about the Supreme Heavenly Yin Body.

The greatest prize in the mortal realm had just been dangled in front of him, and he hadn’t even blinked.

’He is the only sane person in this room,’ Ji’an realized, a sudden, desperate surge of affection and necessity flooding her system.

"Wangchen," Ji’an whispered, grabbing the front of his pristine white robes with both hands, pulling him slightly down toward her level, her silver-flecked eyes wide and manic.

Wangchen’s breath hitched, his ruby eyes widening slightly at the sudden, aggressive proximity. "Yes, Brother Ji’an?"

"We are sticking to the plan," Ji’an hissed fiercely, her voice trembling with absolute, unwavering conviction. "When we get into the Shattered Realm, you find me immediately. We do not engage the heavy hitters. We do not hunt for the top ten spots. We are going to find a nice, secluded cave, I am going to cook a massive hotpot, and we are going to hide for three days until this entire psychotic circus burns itself to the ground. Is that alright?"

Wangchen stared into her wide, panicked eyes.

He didn’t understand why she was so terrified of the tournament.

He didn’t understand the intricacies of the plot she was trying to avoid.

But he understood her request.

She was asking him to stay with her.

She was asking him to isolate with her, away from the rest of the world, away from the other men, in a secluded cave where they would be entirely, beautifully alone.

It was, quite literally, his ultimate fantasy spoken aloud.

A slow, breathtaking, incredibly dark, and victorious smile spread across the Ice Demon’s face.

"As you wish, Ji’an," Wangchen murmured, his voice a low, vibrating purr that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

He gently placed his hands over hers, where she gripped his robes. "We will find a cave. And I will ensure that not a single soul disturbs our peace."

The pact was sealed.

The plot was set.

As thousands of cultivators roared their approval, dreaming of glory and the Princess’s hand, Lin Ji’an and Xie Wangchen stood in the shadows, entirely content to let the world tear itself apart.

At the same time, they planned the ultimate culinary camping trip.

The Official Sect Martial Ranking was about to begin.

And the true chaos was only just getting started.

The universal law of transmigrator physics clearly stated that whenever Lin Ji’an desperately needed to sleep, the plot would aggressively drag her into a mandatory boardroom meeting.

Following the explosive, anxiety-inducing announcements in the Grand Hall of Ascending Heavens, the thousands of regular disciples, foreign dignitaries, and lesser nobles had been formally dismissed.