Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

She exploded into a gray blur, tearing through the dense underbrush of the Lower Realm.

Ji’an navigated the terrain with the agility of a seasoned predator, leaping over massive, moss-covered logs and dodging the occasional low-hanging venomous vine.

She expected to burst into a clearing and find her classmates cornered by a towering monstrosity with too many eyes and dripping fangs.

Instead, as she vaulted over a cluster of boulders and landed silently on the branch of a large oak tree overlooking a sunlit clearing, she found something arguably worse.

It wasn’t a monster, but a teenager in a very expensive, very red silk dress.

Third Princess Zhao Ling’er.

The Princess was flanked by five burly disciples wearing the dark blue robes of Class 6.

They had formed a semi-circle, effectively trapping Tang Bo and Liu Liu against the sheer face of a cliff.

Tang Bo was holding a thick tree branch like a broadsword, his knees shaking so violently they were practically knocking together.

Behind him, Liu Liu was clutching her makeup bag to her chest like a shield, tears streaming down her face, ruining her perfectly applied eyeliner.

"Please, Senior Sister Zhao!" Tang Bo pleaded, his voice cracking. "We don’t have anything of value! We haven’t even found our quest items yet! We just have some dried jerky and a really nice rock I found!"

"Keep your garbage," Princess Ling’er sneered, snapping her jewel-encrusted fan open with a sharp thwack. "Do you think a Princess of the Imperial Family wants your dirty jerky? I don’t want your belongings. I want your tokens."

Liu Liu gasped. "Our tokens? But... but if we give you our tokens, we fail the tournament! We’ll be stuck in the Outer Sect forever!"

"That sounds like an appropriate place for trash," the Princess laughed, a high, grating sound that made Ji’an’s ears ring. "Did you really think Class 9 was going to pass? You are just fodder meant to pad the numbers. Hand over the tokens, shatter them, and go back to sweeping the courtyards where you belong."

She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing with vindictive glee.

"Besides, consider this a proxy tax. Your ’Boss’, that arrogant chef, Lin Ji’an, humiliated me. Since I haven’t found him yet to break his legs, I will settle for breaking his little followers. Guys! Take their tokens. If they resist, break their arms!"

The five Class 6 disciples stepped forward, cracking their knuckles, grinning maliciously at the terrified Class 9 duo.

Up in the tree, Ji’an sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

’I ran three miles... for a high school bullying scene?’ she thought, utterly exasperated. ’No dragons? No shadow-panthers? Just Regina George with a royal title?’

"Boss Lin will avenge us!" Tang Bo yelled, closing his eyes and swinging his tree branch wildly in the air. "He’ll turn you all into stir-fry!"

"Let him try," the Princess scoffed.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

The voice floated down from the canopy, casual, smooth, and dripping with lazy confidence.

Princess Ling’er froze. The Class 6 disciples looked up.

With a rustle of leaves, Lin Ji’an dropped from the branch. She didn’t land in a dramatic, earth-shattering crouch.

She simply dropped lightly onto her feet, dusting an imaginary speck of dirt from her shoulder, then twirled her Black Iron Spatula in her right hand, the heavy metal spinning with mesmerizing speed.

"Boss!" Tang Bo dropped his stick and burst into actual, ugly tears. "You came! I thought I was going to die a virgin!"

"You’re only sixteen, Bro Tang. Keep your aspirations realistic," Ji’an deadpanned without looking at him.

She turned her gaze to the Princess.

Princess Ling’er’s face had gone from triumphant to pale, and then rapidly to a furious, mottled red.

She remembered the cyan bamboo path and this gray-robed cook standing between her and the beautiful Ice Genius, humiliating her in front of her guards.

"You!" Ling’er shrieked, pointing her fan at Ji’an. "You actually dared to show your face! Guards! Forget the tokens! Capture him! I want him kneeling in the dirt!"

The five Class 6 disciples drew their swords and advanced.

Ji’an didn’t draw a weapon. She didn’t even drop into a combat stance.

She just let out a long, disappointed sigh, like a parent dealing with a toddler throwing a tantrum in a grocery store.

"Your Highness," Ji’an drawled, her voice carrying clearly across the clearing. "Is this any way to greet your elders?"

The guards paused, confused.

Ling’er scoffed loudly. "Elders? You are a cook from Class 9! You are nothing!"

Ji’an shook her head sadly, taking a slow, measured step forward. She tapped the flat of her spatula against her open palm.

Smack! Smack!

"Oh, so the Princess doesn’t acknowledge me as her uncle, but it was your royal brother who came looking for me yesterday?" Ji’an asked, her voice raising just enough to carry to the hidden recording runes on everyone’s tokens. "Acknowledging me and telling me to take care of my dear niece in the lower realm?"

The effect of those words on Princess Ling’er was instantaneous and catastrophic.

The color drained entirely from her face, leaving her looking like a heavily rouged ghost. Her jaw slacked. The arrogant posture collapsed into rigid terror.

"B-Brother?" Ling’er stammered, taking a step backward. "Second Brother... came to see you?"

"Mm-hmm," Ji’an nodded brightly, leaning her spatula on her shoulder. "We had noodles. Scallion oil. Very cozy. He told me all about how much he values family ties. He even mentioned how disappointed he gets when certain royal family members forget their manners and act like... what was the word? Ah, right. Hooligans!"

It was a complete bluff, but it hit the bullseye.

To the rest of the world, the Second Prince, Xiao Yichen, was the gentle, smiling scholar of the Imperial Family.

But Princess Ling’er had grown up with him. She knew what hid behind that gentle smile.

She knew that Xiao Yichen’s "disappointment" usually resulted in people disappearing into the deepest, darkest dungeons of the Imperial Palace.