Raising the Villain in Wrong Way

If Xiao Yichen had personally visited this cook... if Xiao Yichen had acknowledged the "Royal Uncle" lineage of the Lin Family...

If she attacked Lin Ji’an now, and her Second Brother found out...

A visible shudder wracked the Princess’s body as she lowered her fan.

The Class 6 guys looked at their leader, utterly baffled. "Your Highness? Should we attack?"

"Stand down!" Ling’er shrieked, her voice cracking with panic. "Put your swords away, you idiots!"

The guards hurriedly sheathed their weapons, thoroughly confused by the sudden 180-degree turn in their commander’s attitude.

Ji’an smiled, a bright, devastatingly handsome smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

She walked slowly toward the trembling Princess, closing the distance until she was standing just a few feet away.

She looked down at the girl, letting the silence stretch for a few agonizing seconds to assert dominance.

"Since we are in the same sect and still young," Ji’an said, her voice dropping into a smooth, placating purr, "calling me Royal Uncle is indeed a bit too much; just call me Senior Brother would do."

Princess Ling’er gritted her teeth. Her pride was warring with her survival instinct. She looked at Ji’an’s smiling face, then remembered Xiao Yichen’s cold, dead eyes.

Survival won.

She bowed her head stiffly, the jewels in her hair clinking together.

"Yes... Senior Brother Lin," she forced the words out through clenched teeth, sounding as though she were swallowing broken glass.

"Good girl," Ji’an praised, giving her a patronizing pat on the shoulder that made the Princess flinch. "Now, why don’t you and your friends go find a nice patch of grass to play in? Leave the Class 9 kids alone. The Lower Realm is dangerous. You wouldn’t want to trip and fall, would you?"

It was a dismissal. A complete, humiliating defeat without a single sword being swung.

Princess Ling’er turned, ready to march away in shame and fury, when a soft, melodious voice chimed in from the back of the Class 6 group.

"Senior Brother Lin is truly magnanimous."

The crowd parted, and a girl stepped forward.

If Princess Ling’er was a fiery, thorny rose, this girl was a delicate, dew-kissed lily. She wore robes of the palest pink, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.

Her eyes were wide, innocent, and currently shimmering with unshed, sympathetic tears. She held her hands clasped delicately in front of her chest.

This was Su Wan, the Princess’s "best friend."

Ji’an’s inner alarm bells instantly replaced the token’s siren with an even louder warning.

’Ah. The White Lotus side character,’ Ji’an, analyzed instantly, recognizing the trope from a mile away.

’The girl who hides behind the arrogant villainess, stokes her anger, reaps the benefits, and then plays the innocent victim when things go wrong. In the original story, she sold out the Princess to save herself during the Rebellion Arc.’

Su Wan glided forward, stopping beside the fuming Princess. She placed a gentle, comforting hand on Ling’er’s arm.

"Please do not be angry with Ling’er, Senior Brother Lin," Su Wan pleaded softly, her voice carrying a perfectly calibrated quiver of distress. "She is just willful and overly eager to prove herself in the tournament. I tried to counsel her, to tell her that bullying fellow disciples is wrong, but she wouldn’t listen to my humble words. I am so relieved you arrived before a terrible mistake was made."

Princess Ling’er looked at Su Wan, betrayal flashing in her eyes. "Wan’er! You—"

"Hush, Ling’er," Su Wan interrupted gently, giving her a sad, disappointed look. "We must apologize and learn from this."

Su Wan then turned her wide, doe-like eyes entirely onto Lin Ji’an. She batted her eyelashes, projecting an aura of fragile purity.

She was keenly aware of the recording rune on her token. She was currently broadcasting herself to the entire sect as the voice of reason, the gentle peacemaker who had tried to stop the bullying.

"Thank you, Senior Brother Lin, for your mercy," Su Wan bowed gracefully. "Your reputation as a skilled and honorable cultivator is well deserved."

It was a masterclass in manipulation. She had thrown her "best friend" under the bus, elevated herself to the moral high ground, and flattered the person holding the power, all within thirty seconds.

Ji’an stared at her.

A slow, utterly wicked smile began to spread across Ji’an’s face.

’You want to play the game?’ Ji’an thought. ’Alright, little lotus. Let’s play then! I used to manage customer complaints at a five-star restaurant. Dealing with passive-aggressive narcissists is my specialty!’ 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Instead of agreeing with her or exposing her brutally in front of the cameras, Ji’an decided to lean entirely into her "Handsome Playboy" persona.

Ji’an stepped right into Su Wan’s personal space.

She moved so smoothly, so confidently, that Su Wan didn’t even have time to step back.

Ji’an leaned down slightly, bringing her face mere inches from the White Lotus’s delicate features.

Su Wan’s breath hitched. Close up, Lin Ji’an was undeniably striking. The sharp jawline, the dark, amused eyes, the faint, masculine scent of pine and exotic spices.

Ji’an reached out. Slowly, deliberately, she used the smooth, wooden handle of her spatula to gently lift Su Wan’s chin, forcing the girl to maintain eye contact.

"Is that so, Junior Sister?" Ji’an’s voice dropped an octave, turning husky, smooth, and dangerously flirtatious. "You tried to counsel her?"

Su Wan felt a sudden, involuntary flush creep up her neck. Her heart did a strange flutter.

This wasn’t the reaction she expected. He wasn’t praising her purity; he was looking at her like he could see straight through her soul.

"I... yes, Senior Brother," Su Wan whispered, suddenly feeling very small and very exposed under that dark, amused gaze.

Ji’an tilted her head, her smile turning devastatingly sweet.

"You must have tried very... quietly," Ji’an murmured, the words wrapping around Su Wan like a velvet noose.

Su Wan’s eyes widened slightly. The flush on her cheeks deepened, this time from a spike of genuine panic.