NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!

The Jade Serpent Sect was a reclusive, elite cultivation order nestled high in the mist-cloaked mountains of the southern ranges.

Known for their poison arts, beauty-centric philosophy, and absurdly attractive inner disciples, they attracted both the talented and the tragically thirsty.

Naturally, Lin Fan had applied the moment he heard their lead instructor was a woman nicknamed The Venom Empress.

Because of course she was.

And of course he was going to make her fall for him.

His application had been rejected.

Twice.

So he forged a new identity: "Lin Feng, the wandering alchemist-savant from the Burning Wisteria Clan." (A clan that didn't exist, but he figured no one would check.)

He wore purple robes that were slightly too tight and a blindfold that served no purpose.

"Why the blindfold?" asked the gatekeeper monk.

Lin Fan lifted his chin dramatically. "So that my inner vision may remain unclouded by mortal beauty."

The monk stared at him.

Then slowly stamped his pass.

"Third courtyard. Don't blow anything up."

—

Inside the Sect Grounds

It was heaven.

Like stepping into a dream woven entirely out of incense, silk, and women who could kill you with a single eyebrow raise.

Everywhere he turned, ethereal cultivators trained amidst waterfalls and petal storms. Even the servants looked like models from celestial fashion scrolls.

And at the center of it all?

She.

Master Yan Lianhua.

The Venom Empress.

Long crimson robes. High cheekbones. A gaze like a dagger dipped in honey. And when she walked? The air itself parted like a jealous ex.

Lin Fan forgot how to breathe.

Until a junior disciple slapped the back of his head.

"Eyes down, pervert."

He stumbled forward. "I was admiring her cultivation technique."

"You were drooling."

"Same thing!"

But he didn't care. This was it. This was his next chance. His new mountain to climb.

His next great mistake.

—

Meanwhile – Hei Long, Imperial Capital

"Qingshi report submitted," Hei Long said, placing the scroll on Lan Xueyi's desk.

She didn't look up from her work.

"Let me guess," she said. "He moved on?"

"To the Jade Serpent Sect."

Lan Xueyi blinked.

"…Oh no."

Hei Long raised a brow. "You think they'll kill him?"

"No. Worse."

She finally met his gaze, expression flat.

"They'll entertain him."

Hei Long frowned. "Pity."

—

Back at the Jade Serpent Sect – Lin Fan's Training Begins

Lin Fan was not doing well.

He had signed up for "Advanced Charm Crafting" hoping to impress someone. Instead, he was being force-fed venomous herbs by a nun with one eye and no sense of mercy.

"Feel the burn," she cackled, as he twitched on the floor.

Later, he limped into the courtyard, reeking of bitterroot and failure, just in time to see Master Yan Lianhua instructing a class of inner disciples.

She moved like smoke and steel, her words soft and dangerous:

"Desire is power. Control it, and you control others. Lose to it, and you belong to them."

Lin Fan stumbled forward, waving weakly. "Hi! I have a question about... spiritual bindings and compatibility—"

She looked at him.

Not to him.

Through him.

"...Lin Fan," she said.

He froze.

Wait—how did she—

"Did you think we don't check our applicants?"

He swallowed. "My clan is very... private."

"You forged your entire identity using wisteria leaves and perfume ink."

"So you noticed."

She approached slowly. "You're either the most arrogant man I've met… or the most pathetic."

He straightened. "I like to think of myself as... devastatingly romantic."

She stopped.

Smiled.

That was worse.

"You want me to fall for you, don't you?"

"I mean, yes. That is the goal."

"To be mine."

"Absolutely."

"Then kneel."

He dropped instantly.

"No hesitation," she mused.

"I respect strong leadership," he said proudly.

"Drink this."

She handed him a vial of something bubbling purple.

He hesitated.

"…What is it?"

"A compatibility test."

"With what?"

She smiled again.

"You'll see."

—

One Hour Later – The Poison Trial

Lin Fan was naked in a pit.

Screaming.

Flailing.

Covered in snakes.

"This is not a date!" he bellowed.

Above him, Master Yan Lianhua and several other disciples watched from the viewing platform.

"He shows resilience," one noted.

"He's a moron," another said.

Yan Lianhua didn't speak.

She simply watched Lin Fan attempt to form a cultivation array using mud and tears.

"…Let him survive," she finally said.

The disciples looked confused.

"Why?"

"Because fools are entertaining."

—

That Night

Lin Fan lay on a straw mat, covered in snake bites and self-doubt.

But also…

Hope.

Because he'd seen it.

The flicker of curiosity in her eyes. The briefest grin.

She was interested.

Not in love. Not even close.

But not indifferent.

And that?

That was enough.

Because Lin Fan only needed a spark.

He'd build a fire.

A storm.

A love story no one could ignore.

Even if it killed him.

Probably would.

But hey—

Hei Long wasn't here.

And for once?

That meant Lin Fan might win.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Okay, probably not.

But a man could dream.

And Lin Fan?

Dreamed big.

. . . . .

Lin Fan had started wearing a scarf — not for fashion, but to hide the swelling on his neck from the snake bites.

His robes were patched in five different places, his boots were two sizes too big (he "borrowed" them), and his qi was in complete disarray from repeatedly trying to infuse charm paper with venom essence.

In short: he looked like a man who had fought death, lost, and been given a second chance out of pity.

But he was smiling.

Because Yan Lianhua had spoken to him again.

Even if it was just: "Your spiritual foundation is as stable as a chicken drunk on plum wine."

It was progress.

And so, Lin Fan marched into the morning training session like a rooster with a concussion.

"Today's class," Yan Lianhua announced to her disciples, "is about seduction resistance."

Lin Fan's ears perked.

"Oh ho?"

Yan Lianhua's eyes flicked toward him with malicious amusement. "Yes, Lin Fan. This is when we practice resisting you."

He blinked.

"Wait—me?"

She gestured lazily. "You will attempt to seduce each disciple using whatever methods you deem appropriate. They will counter using techniques from our sect's Charm-Dissolving Art."

Lin Fan's mouth fell open.

"You… you want me to seduce a dozen deadly cultivators?"

"It's your only skill," she replied with a shrug. "Might as well refine it."

The disciples lined up.

Every single one looked like they could dismantle him emotionally, spiritually, and physically — possibly all at once.

The first was a cold-eyed woman named Wen Qiu. She already had her arms folded.

Lin Fan cleared his throat.

"My lady," he began, bowing with forced grace, "you are the moonlight to my madness, the storm that shakes my soul—"

She threw a talisman at his face.

He collapsed.

"Next," Yan Lianhua said.

He failed the next five before one disciple — a short girl named Mei'er — actually giggled.

He gasped.

"I broke through!"

Then she punched him in the gut.

Hard.

"Was that a new technique?" one of the instructors asked.

"No," Mei'er said. "I just didn't like his face."

—

Later That Night – Master Yan's Private Study

He limped toward the chamber, summoned by note. Neatly written. Sealed with the sect's crimson sigil.

Inside, candles flickered low. Shelves lined with poison manuals, alchemy scrolls, and jars filled with things that blinked.

Yan Lianhua stood at a workbench, swirling a vial of something ominously blue.

"You asked for me?" Lin Fan said, coughing politely.

"You lasted longer than expected."

He gave her his best crooked grin. "That's what they all say."

She raised an eyebrow.

He withered. "Sorry. Instinct."

"I'll get to the point," she said, setting the vial down. "Why are you really here?"

He blinked. "I told you. I want to learn the way of the Jade Serpent Sect. I want to master charmcraft. I want—"

She stepped forward.

"Don't lie."

Her voice dropped, quiet and sharp.

"You're here because I look like something you think you can win."

"I—"

"You thought I was a challenge. A prize. Just like the girl before me. Just like whoever comes next."

Lin Fan's mouth went dry.

She leaned in, close enough that her breath tickled his ear.

"Tell me, Lin Fan… if I said I was already in love with someone else, what would you do?"

His throat tightened.

He didn't answer.

She smiled.

"There it is."

She stepped back, arms behind her back, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.

"You don't love. You conquer. You fail, and then you reframe failure as nobility."

He flinched like she'd slapped him.

"I'm not—"

"You are," she said. "But that's what makes you useful."

He stared.

"…Useful?"

She turned, walking back to her workbench.

"There's someone I want to test. A man who pretends to be invulnerable. Cold. Controlled."

She picked up a talisman brush.

"I want to see what happens when he sees you succeed. Just once."

"…You mean Hei Long."

She didn't answer.

Lin Fan's heart stuttered.

"So I'm bait."

"You're a variable," she said coolly.

And yet… she hadn't kicked him out.

She needed him here.

And maybe, just maybe—

That meant he had leverage.

—

Meanwhile – Hei Long, On Assignment

"Are you listening?" Lan Xueyi asked.

Hei Long blinked. "No."

She sighed. "You're still thinking about him, aren't you?"

He said nothing.

She leaned back, arms crossed. "You know, most men would be relieved to get rid of a stalker with hero delusions."

"He's not harmless," Hei Long said.

"No," she agreed. "He's worse. He's relentless."

There was a pause.

Then Hei Long asked, "Do you think she'll use him?"

Lan Xueyi tilted her head. "Yan Lianhua? Oh, definitely. She'll play with him until she's bored. Then he'll either be exiled again... or dead."

Hei Long's fingers tapped the edge of the mission scroll.

"And if he isn't?"

Lan Xueyi frowned.

"Then you'll have a problem."

—

Two Weeks Later – Jade Serpent Sect Exhibition Duel

The entire sect had gathered.

Lin Fan stood shirtless in the center arena, holding two unbalanced daggers and looking like he'd barely survived breakfast.

Across from him stood Wu Yiren, one of the sect's elite disciples — calm, precise, with jade-colored qi pulsing around her palms.

"Begin," Yan Lianhua called.

And Lin Fan?

He charged.

Not because it was smart.

Not because it was strategic.

But because he'd learned one thing over the past two weeks:

Deliberate chaos sometimes works.

He swung wildly, tripped on his own foot, caught her by accident, and sent her flying into the lotus pond.

Everyone gasped.

He stood there panting.

Mud-streaked. Bleeding.

Victorious.

And when he turned?

Yan Lianhua was watching.

Expression unreadable.

Then, slowly—

She clapped.

Once.

Twice.

And smiled.

Not mockingly.

Not cruelly.

But thoughtfully.

Which terrified him more than any poison ever had.

And somewhere far away, on a distant imperial rooftop, Hei Long felt something stir.

A ripple.

A warning.

The fool was rising again.

And this time…

He might actually succeed.

The duel had ended.

Lin Fan had somehow — somehow — beaten a top disciple of the Jade Serpent Sect.

He didn't really remember how. It was all a blur of screams, flailing limbs, and instinctual dumb luck. One moment he was dodging a chi-enhanced palm strike, and the next, he was standing over a dazed Wu Yiren, covered in pond weeds and divine favor.

Now, he sat in the inner courtyard hot springs.

Alone.

Mostly because the other disciples didn't want to bathe near someone who'd turned a duel into a slapstick performance.

But Lin Fan?

He felt like a god.

A stupid, grinning, half-naked god.

"She clapped," he whispered, eyes wide. "She clapped. She actually clapped."

He leaned back into the water, steam curling around his head.

"That was respect. That was real, undeniable respect. I earned it."

Then, from behind the bamboo screen, a voice said dryly:"No, you tripped. Into victory."

Lin Fan screamed and slipped under the water.

He popped back up, coughing. "WHO THE HELL—?!"

Mei'er, the disciple who punched him during seduction training, stood there in her bathrobe, arms folded, a teacup in her hand. "You're not invincible, Lin Fan. Just hard to kill."

He wiped his face. "Can't I enjoy one win in peace?!"

"You should be careful."

"Why? I'm finally making progress. Master Yan respects me. That's step one on the romantic path!"

"She's not like your other targets," Mei'er said, stepping closer. "Yan Lianhua doesn't lose. She doesn't feel. She collects. People. Pawns."

He hesitated.

And for a second — just a second — doubt crept in.

But he shook it off.

"She wouldn't be playing this game if she wasn't at least interested."

Mei'er snorted. "You're a deck of cards. She's just seeing how many she can burn before you notice."

Then she tossed something at him — a folded note. It landed on his chest.

"She left this for you."

"…From Master Yan?"

Mei'er nodded once. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

She turned and walked off into the night mist, leaving behind only her footprints and a trail of foreboding doom.

Lin Fan unfolded the note.

Two simple lines:

Come to the Night Serpent Pavilion. Midnight. Wear nothing sentimental.

He blinked.

Then reread it.

Then his heart began to pound.

"Okay," he whispered, "this is either a date... or an assassination."

He stared into the distance.

"…Worth it."

—

Midnight – Night Serpent Pavilion

The pavilion was a circular structure nestled atop a cliff overlooking the southern valley, lit by cold moonlight and the flicker of soulfire lanterns.

The wind howled through the open arches. Coiling dragon motifs lined the walls, and venomous plants bloomed around the base.

It looked exactly like the kind of place a femme fatale would lure someone before kissing them or stabbing them.

Lin Fan adjusted his robe. He brought no weapons. Just a bottle of his last remaining confidence and a single jade charm — his first invention, still cracked and useless, but comforting.

She was already there.

Sitting on the edge of the pavilion, staring out into the mist.

Yan Lianhua didn't look at him at first.

"You came."

"Of course," Lin Fan said. "My ego demanded it."

She smirked faintly.

"Do you know why I summoned you?"

"If this is about the duel, I maintain it was a completely intentional backflip."

She stood.

Glided across the marble floor like a spirit.

And stopped inches from him.

Her hand rose slowly… and brushed his collarbone.

"You fascinate me, Lin Fan."

His mouth dried instantly. "I get that a lot. Mostly from healers and therapists."

She tilted her head. "You don't belong in this sect. You're clumsy. Loud. Emotionally transparent."

"Thank you?"

"And yet... you survive."

Her fingers lingered against his chest. "You bounce back after humiliation. You adapt. You burn. Not hot — but long. Like poison."

She leaned in closer.

"Would you like to stay?"

"…In the sect?"

"No," she whispered. "With me."

His mind screamed. His body froze.

Was this it?

Was this the moment?

And then—

Her hand moved like a viper.

Quick. Cold.

She pressed a talisman against his neck.

His vision spun.

His knees buckled.

He hit the floor, groaning.

"—what the hell?!"

She crouched beside him, utterly composed.

"You're now marked with a Binding Sigil," she said casually. "It will track your location and alert me if you leave the sect."

"You drugged me?!"

"No. Just tethered you."

"For what?!"

She leaned in, smile like a blade.

"To see how far you'll crawl to feel important."

Then she stood and walked away, disappearing into the dark.

—

Elsewhere – Hei Long

Hei Long opened a letter.

It was sealed in plum wax — from one of the imperial informants within the Jade Serpent Sect.

He read it.

Then again.

Then slowly folded it and set it on the table.

Lan Xueyi glanced at him. "What?"

"Lin Fan's still alive."

"…Of course he is."

"He's embedded now. Bound to the sect leader."

Lan Xueyi arched an eyebrow. "As a disciple?"

"No," Hei Long said quietly. "As… something else."

She waited.

Then narrowed her eyes. "You're going after him, aren't you?"

Hei Long didn't answer.

But the room had already grown colder.

—

Back at the Pavilion – Lin Fan, Alone

He lay on the stone floor long after the dizziness faded.

The talisman was still on his neck — glowing faintly.

His hands shook.

She'd kissed him with her words.

And shackled him with her touch.

He should have been furious.

He should have been terrified.

Instead…

He grinned.

"She wants to see how far I'll crawl?" he whispered.

"I'll run."

Because if this was her test?

Then Lin Fan would ace it.

Love. Power. Revenge. Identity.

He'd take all of it.

And if Hei Long came?

Then for once…

Let him be the one too late.