NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!

Location: Imperial University – Moonlit Courtyard, Two Nights After the Fragment Was Opened

The moonlight fell like silk across white stone tiles. The wind carried the scent of jasmine and something more electric — the tension that always bloomed when too many beautiful women gathered in one place... for the same man.

Hei Long stood calmly at the center of the courtyard, dressed in black silk robes trimmed with deep crimson, arms folded behind his back.

A soft glow rimmed his silhouette — not aura, not formation. Just presence.

To his right: Zhao Yuran, dressed in elegant violet, her phoenix crest pinned to her shoulder. No longer grieving — now burning. She hadn't said a word to him since the memory fragment. But her eyes never left him.

To his left: Leng Qingxue, sword strapped to her back, eyes cool, chin raised. She wasn't here to confess. She was here to protect what she already believed was hers.

And behind them both, silently emerging from the shadows, was Mu Yexin — heiress of the Mirage Pavilion, famed for illusions and seduction techniques so subtle, even truth forgot what it looked like. Her fan snapped open with a whisper.

"So," she purred, "this is the man who didn't fall to my Dream Lotus Breath. I had to see it for myself."

Hei Long didn't even blink. "You came because you lost a bet with Qingxue."

"Semantics," Mu Yexin smiled.

Zhao Yuran's eyes narrowed. "Why is she here?"

"She was invited," Hei Long said simply.

Qingxue looked at him. "By who?"

"Me."

The Silence That Followed

It wasn't uncomfortable.

It was charged.

Each woman processed the same fact at different speeds: Hei Long had gathered them all — not by chance, not by desire — but by design.

Not one of them could call themselves his "chosen." But none of them could leave.

That was the power of Hei Long.

Not that he pursued.

But that he made staying feel like gravity.

Zhao Yuran – Stepping Forward

"I saw who I was," she said softly, stopping just a pace away. "Who I used to be before Li Chen corrupted everything."

Hei Long nodded.

"I was weaker. Gentler. Maybe even foolish."

"And now?" he asked.

"Now," she said, voice clear, "I know what kind of man I was waiting for. And it wasn't him."

A pause.

Then her voice dropped a note:

"It was you."

Hei Long looked her over.

"You're certain?"

"I remember everything. Even what you didn't say."

He stepped closer.

"So you're not asking for love."

"No," she whispered.

"I'm asking for a place."

Leng Qingxue – Interrupting

"Then stand in line," she said coldly. "You're not the first."

Zhao turned, fire flashing in her eyes. "I didn't come to fight."

"Good," Qingxue said, hand on her hilt. "Because you wouldn't win."

Mu Yexin fluttered her fan. "How dreadfully territorial. Are we sect disciples or caged birds?"

"Speak again," Qingxue snapped, "and I'll see if illusions bleed."

Hei Long let them talk.

Not because he couldn't stop them.

But because he didn't need to.

He'd already won.

He Raised One Hand

The air fell still.

Even Yexin's fan stopped mid-motion.

Hei Long's voice was low. Commanding.

"I don't need declarations."

"I don't want confessions."

"I want loyalty. And competence."

He stepped into the center fully, gaze sweeping over each woman.

"If you think you deserve a place by my side, prove it."

Zhao Yuran stepped forward.

Qingxue drew her sword — but did not strike.

Mu Yexin closed her fan and smiled. "A test, then?"

Hei Long turned, walking away.

His final words lingered:

"Follow me. Or be left behind."

Later That Night – Hei Long's Private Pavilion

He sat before the koi pond, tea untouched.

They were all there.

No fighting now. No sharp words.

Just stillness.

He had taken the battlefield and turned it into a court.

Mu Yexin poured his tea without needing instruction.

Zhao Yuran sat at his right, posture elegant but alert.

Leng Qingxue knelt slightly behind, eyes scanning the shadows.

Each one aware of the other.

Each one refusing to yield.

But none willing to walk away.

Because the truth was no longer spoken aloud.

It lived in their silence.

Hei Long would never say "I love you."

But when he stood—

They all stood.

When he walked—

They followed.

Because even if they couldn't own him...

They could still be chosen.

Meanwhile – Outside the Pavilion

Two academy girls watched from afar, whispering behind a tree.

"I heard they all confessed."

"No way! He didn't reject any of them?"

"He doesn't have to. They're competing just to stand near him!"

"And Qingxue threatened to stab someone at the sparring grounds over tea time privileges."

They shivered.

And blushed.

"…I kinda get it, though."

"Right? He's terrifying."

"…but hot."

. . . . . .

It began with a whisper.

A single note of flute music drifting through the midnight fog.

Hei Long stood alone atop the Pavilion's highest balcony, sipping cooled spirit tea as the scent of plum blossoms crept in like a curious hand. His robes fluttered gently in the wind. His expression unreadable, as always.

But he was not alone.

Not truly.

In the garden below, Mu Yexin stood barefoot on the koi bridge, her Mirage Pavilion attire replaced with a midnight-blue gown that shimmered like oil over moonlight. Her hair was undone — a rare event. Her fan was gone.

This wasn't seduction.

This was a hunt.

And she was about to spring the trap.

Mu Yexin – Whispering the Incantation

"Illusions are not lies. They are the truths you're too afraid to believe."

With each word, the fog thickened.

The koi pond rippled upward, swallowing moonlight and stars.

Lanterns dimmed.

The scent of jasmine deepened into something narcotic.

Reality tilted.

And the Woven Dream Array — a fifth-level Mirage Sect technique forbidden in open duels — unfurled its petals across the world.

Hei Long Didn't Move

He watched.

As the stars blinked out.

As the Pavilion crumbled into shifting glass.

As the world bent into something else entirely.

He stood now in a dream-forged replica of his childhood village — one that no longer existed. The air was soft. Warm. Voices of long-dead family echoed faintly in the distance. A single lantern glowed from the porch of the house.

And on the steps…

Sat Mu Yexin.

Only, not quite.

This version of her wore simpler robes. No fan. No mystery. Just soft eyes and a gentle smile.

"Isn't it tiring?" she asked softly, looking up at him. "Always being above it all? Always cold, distant, untouched?"

Hei Long approached.

"I can give you rest," she said. "Not obedience. Not loyalty. But peace. Just for tonight."

The wind rustled.

The trees whispered.

The scent of nostalgia tugged at his chest like a lost name.

Most Men Would Have Fallen

Even Qingxue would've hesitated.

Even Zhao Yuran, for all her focus, would've blinked.

The array was perfect.

The illusion seamless.

Mu Yexin had poured all her understanding of Hei Long's past into this trap — every secret glance, every overheard word, every memory she'd reconstructed from scattered details.

This was not an illusion built to seduce.

This was an illusion built to understand.

But Hei Long did not sit.

He looked around.

And said:

"This village never had plum trees."

The World Shuddered

The air fractured.

Mu Yexin's illusion faltered — for the first time in her life.

Hei Long stepped forward.

Another step.

The dream's grass withered beneath his feet.

"You built this world to give me comfort," he said quietly. "That was your first mistake."

Another step.

The replica of Mu Yexin stood now, clearly flickering.

"You assumed I wanted to be understood. That was your second."

Final step.

Face to face.

His eyes met hers — not the illusion's, but the real Mu Yexin's, hovering just behind the mirage, her spiritual thread trembling.

"And your third…"

He raised one hand.

Tapped her on the forehead.

The entire illusion shattered like sugar glass.

Real World – Pavilion Garden

Mu Yexin stumbled backward, gasping, sweat pouring down her brow.

She collapsed to one knee.

The koi pond was still.

The moon was whole.

Hei Long stood precisely where he had before.

Looking down at her.

Expression unreadable.

"Your technique," he said calmly, "is flawless."

"Then why—?" she breathed, unable to stand.

"Because I don't lose myself," he replied.

"I let others do it for me."

She Looked Up

For the first time — not with cunning.

But with awe.

She had meant to break him.

To make him feel.

Instead, she'd shown her hand.

She'd woven her own desire too deeply into the array.

And now, Hei Long knew every curve of it.

He crouched beside her.

Lifted her chin with two fingers.

"Next time," he said softly, "don't build illusions around me."

"Build them around yourself."

Then stood.

And walked away.

She remained kneeling.

Not defeated.

But claimed.

Later That Night – Leng Qingxue's Room

She opened the curtain to find Mu Yexin standing there.

Hair a mess.

Expression dazed.

"What happened to you?"

"…I lost," Mu Yexin whispered.

"To him?"

Qingxue folded her arms.

Mu Yexin nodded.

A long pause.

Then she smiled faintly.

"I think I finally understand why you've stayed."

Qingxue looked away.

"I never had a choice."

Meanwhile – Zhao Yuran's Balcony

She watched it all from a distance.

Saw Mu Yexin kneeling.

Saw Hei Long walk away without looking back.

And felt…

Not jealousy.

But resolve.

Because she wouldn't try illusions.

She wouldn't duel for his attention.

She would earn it by staying.

By being the last one not to break.