The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

"I… I feel like I've seen him somewhere before," she muttered, voice dazed.

That man.

That fleeting figure. Cold eyes, devil-may-care stride. A spiritual aura that smelled faintly of villainy and good wine.

The maid tilted her head, confused. "An old friend?"

The woman didn't answer immediately.

Because if Su Xiaobai had waited just one moment longer, he would've realized—

He'd just body-checked Lady Feng Lianhua.

Phoenix-blooded of the Vermillion Phoenix Dynasty.

And the girl whose treasure map he once "borrowed" in the forest.

It was about a year ago.

She'd been injured—in the wilds.

And Su Xiaobai, found her passed out and immediately activated his two signature techniques:

- Villain's Greed

- Speed Looting

He stole her treasure map, the one she spent years researching and millions of spirit stones acquiring.

It led him to the lost legacy of Emperor Tian Yu, which he robbed like a bandit with a celestial discount code.

He also may or may not have considered stealing her body, until a random talisman on her chest zapped his perverted intentions into a premature retreat.

He chalked it up to "author cockblock" and slapped on some medical paste for "good karma."

Then he vanished.

Like a horny wind.

Fairy Lianhua, meanwhile?

Woke up hours later, healed, and assumed she'd been saved by a mysterious cultivator with the heart of a saint and the patience of a monk.

She never saw his face.

She just remembered warmth, the scent of herbs, and the absence of malice.

She thought—

> He must be a noble rogue... a true gentleman cultivator… one who saves lives, then disappears like smoke.

She returned to her dynasty.

Never saw him again.

She'd nearly forgotten the incident completely.

But today—during the bustling 49-Day Weeping Moon Festival of Qingxie City—she'd wandered the market with no thought in mind...

And got shoulder-tackled by fate.

Her heart now beat faster. Not from pain. But from instinct.

Something familiar in that man's posture. That lack of apology... That aura that whispered:

> "I'm up to something. And it's probably illegal."

She placed a hand to her chest, blinking rapidly. "... Could it be him? My mysterious savior from back then…?"

She rubbed her arm, still watching the corner where Su Xiaobai had disappeared with all the grace of a rogue cultivator ghosting a Tinder date.

"Madam… you think he recognized you?" the maid asked cautiously.

But Feng Lianhua wasn't listening.

"…He didn't even look at me," She muttered. "Just crashed into me like a bull and walked off like I wasn't here..."

Her spiritual senses stretched out like blooming petals, searching for that rogue Qi signature.

Eyes narrowed.

Which, in Phoenix Dynasty terms, meant someone was about to suffer.

She wasn't mad.

She just wanted a word.

Possibly followed by several thousand flaming arrows and a heated explanation in public.

_____

Eastern Gate, Qingxie Port.

Next Morning — Just Too Damn Early

"Great. Since everyone's here, let's go."

Priest Shi Yan's voice rang out, polished and heroic, as if he was about to deliver a sermon instead of lead a bunch of barely-compatible degenerates into a death zone.

He looked too excited.

The kind of excited that screams "I get extra Light Points if someone dies heroically in front of me."

Su Xiaobai arrived last—yawning like a bastard who overslept after committing auditory war crimes.

Everyone turned to glare at him.

Except two people:

Yu Feng and Nalan Yufei.

Why?

Because they were too damn tired to care.

The two women had spent half the night in neighboring rooms, bonding over shared trauma.

Specifically?

The nonstop noise from Su Xiaobai's room.

Clothes hitting floors.

Beds shaking.

Walls knocking like they owed debt.

Except... he was alone.

They didn't know what he was doing.

Was it solo dual-cultivation practice?

Spiritual exercise?

Masturbating with intent to transcend?

All they knew was that Nalan Yufei had whispered through the wall, "...Does he always go this long?"

To which Yu Feng, red-eyed and vengeful, simply pointed at the dark circles under her own eyes and muttered, "He's always like this."

Thus, a sacred sisterhood was forged.

Not from trust. Not from respect.

But from being sleep-deprived co-victims of Su Xiaobai's nightly activities.

They marched in formation.

Shi Yan took the rear—heroic self-preservation mode.

Lan Tian led up front, guided by the dark aura like a sad compass.

Dong Lei lumbered somewhere in the middle like a walking spirit fortress.

Su Xiaobai?

Casually strolled near the center, chewing on dried demon fruit, eyes half-lidded.

He clicked his tongue.

"Tch. Priest just doesn't wanna die first. Coward."

Clearly, he didn't know jack about standard merc formation.

___

The landscape changed.

Green, dew-kissed grass gave way to towering trees—Cloodword Forest.

And with it, the Formation of Ten Thousand Trees.

Massive trunks—fifty meters thick, stretching a thousand meters high, leaves interlocking in a formation that pulsed with natural [Qi blocking] lines—sealed off the corruption like a living divine array.

Su Xiaobai stared up.

"...That's one hell of a wooden lock."

He wanted to admire it, but something felt...off.

The elves here—stationed at the border—weren't right.

They stood in elegant silver armor, blades sheathed, bows at the ready...

But their auras?

Dull, muted, and twisted.

Even Nalan Yufei, as beautifully built as she was—with gray hair like moonlit silk, sharp cheekbones, full lips, a womb-tier waistline, and a pair of phoenix-level breasts that could bless an entire sect's bloodline—gave off that same eerie feeling.

Her figure?

God-tier.

But the Qi around her?

Wrong.

Dead wrong.

"...Don't they look a bit cursed?" Su Xiaobai muttered, eyeing her curves while also sensing spiritual rot.

Yufei, arguing with a border guard, didn't hear.

Yu Feng did.

And immediately misunderstood.

Snorting, she snapped, "Don't bother. They're not interested in breeding with outer-race perverts."

Su Xiaobai raised an eyebrow. "Breeding, huh?"

Yu Feng flushed red. "I mean—courting! I meant courting!"

But he wasn't listening.

His eyes stayed on Yufei, watching her from behind.

Then muttered, "Good hips. Definitely fertile. Wonder what she looks like in heat mode—"

"Cultivate a conscience!" Yu Feng hissed, almost elbowing him.

Dong Lei, ever the well-meaning meathead mediator, scratched his chin and offered with innocent wisdom, "Usually , elves stick to their little forest dynasties. Nalan Yufei's just… a strange branch on the tree. Some of them get curious, want to see the world...."

Su Xiaobai was already drifting away.

Toward Lan Tian, who stood at the front, looking like he wanted to kill every tree in sight.

His gaze was cold, sharp—twisted with a strange emotion.

Hatred.

"They're cursed," Lan Tian muttered, eyes locked on the elves. "They can't use Light Qi anymore."

His voice dripped with spite.

Like he enjoyed watching holy bloodlines rot.

Su Xiaobai tilted his head. "Huh. Explains the weird funk."

Before he could ask more, Nalan Yufei returned, signaling that the gate was open.

The squad formed back up, stepping into the forest.

And that's when it hit them—

FOOM!

A wave of corrupted black miasma slapped their faces like a demon's greasy fart.

Everyone reached into their sleeves, pulling out cloth masks pre-soaked in purifying elixirs.

They pressed forward.

The vibrant forest floor ended.

And in its place—

An ashen wasteland.

Mud the color of rot... Trees shriveled like corpses.

A faint acidic drizzle hissed softly, burning against their protective auras.

Their pace slowed.

A protective formation deployed, covering the team in a sphere of muted light as they passed through the hellscape.

Everyone was silent now.

No jokes.... No flirting... No complaining.

Only one thought among them:

They had no idea what the fuck was coming next.

And neither did Su Xiaobai.

But he already smelled it.

Plot.

Something wicked was stirring.

And for once, it wasn't his dick.

____

Half a Month Later — Outskirts of the Hanmeng Plain

The journey was long.

Mud, miasma, and murder.

But somehow—through beast ambushes, cursed trees, and one extremely awkward incident involving Ku Rong accidentally sleeping inside a spirit-devouring cocoon—they made it.

Before them now lay a town.

Yi Town.

Small in size, but bloated with activity. A tumor of civilization at the edge of the world. What began as a pit stop for desperate merchants had swelled into a full-blown sin market, sustained by blood money and the constant churn of mercenaries prepping to die gloriously (or stupidly) in the corruption beyond.

And today?

It throbbed with energy.

The 49 Days of Weeping Moon Festival had begun.

Banners fluttered between buildings. Spirit lanterns glowed with hollow joy. People drank, gambled, fucked, and bought talismans they were definitely going to die with.

Overhead, the sacred dome barrier shimmered like a soap bubble reinforced with divine script—the only thing keeping the Corrupt Qi out.

As they stepped through the entrance gate—

FWOOOSH.

The pressure lifted.

Masks off... Breaths deep.

"Finally… I can breathe." Nalan Yufei exhaled, her voice bright and relieved, a sweet smile lighting up her face.

Pearl-white teeth, moon-skin cheeks.

She looked radiant, and fresh.

Like someone who hadn't seen a single corpse in their life. Which, of course, made her stick out like a phoenix feather in a pigsty.

Those more attuned—Su Xiaobai included—instantly noted it.

"Yup. Forest girl — Untraumatized. Probably still believes in love."

He said nothing. Just smirked faintly, hands tucked into his sleeves like a smug fortune-teller watching fate prepare its dick.