Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 95: Thoughts

The silver-tinted twilight of the night sky filtered through a room in the Ling Clan’s palace through the heavy silk curtains, casting long, dancing shadows across the polished floor.

The air was shrouded with the scent of burning spirit-incense and the bitter, medicinal tang of the "Soul-Knitting Salve" Haoran had applied to the unconscious shadow guard.

Qing’er’s eyelids fluttered, her breath hitching as she groggily opened her eyes.

Every fiber of her being felt as though it had been threaded with burning hot needles; the dark gold lightning of the world’s core had left a lingering, numbing ache in her Saint-realm meridians.

She found herself in a sprawling, opulent chamber, lying upon a bed of cloud-silk that felt unnaturally soft against her bruised skin.

"Where...?" She spoke, feeling the dryness in her throat.

"Are you alright?" a voice asked. It was calm, steady, and carried an undertone of rare, quiet concern.

Qing’er’s eyes instantly widened as the fog of unconsciousness vanished and the memory of the golden bolt shattering her dome and the Young Master’s face as she fell flooded back.

With a gasp of panic, she ignored the screaming protest of her muscles and scrambled off the bed.

She didn’t just stand, but had instead dropped to her knees in a single, fluid motion, her forehead nearly touching the floor as she knelt before Haoran.

"Young Master! I beg your forgiveness!" her voice trembled with a rare emotion—shame. "I failed you. I allowed that trash to escape. I allowed an outsider to interfere. My life is a forfeit for this incompetence—"

"No, no need to apologize," Haoran said, his hand extending to grip her shoulder, firmly stopping her from kowtowing further as he pulled her up, forcing her to sit back on the edge of the bed. "I was the one who underestimated the situation. I didn’t realize just how blatantly unfair the heavens are toward their favored children. It wasn’t your weakness, Qing’er, just think of it as the world itself cheating to protect its pet."

Haoran walked toward the window, looking out at the jagged abyss his sword intent had carved into the continent.

His brow was furrowed, his golden eyes reflecting a deep, analytical frustration as he couldn’t help but wonder: Are these ’Anomalies’ truly unkillable? Are those Anomalies realy so ridiculous that even a Supreme’s intent can be diverted by a well-timed lightning bolt?

No. That couldn’t be right. If they were truly immortal, then the anomaly he had ordered Qing’er to kill in the Eastern Region would have survived.

There is no reason for the heavens to favor one over the other.

After all, the heavens only wanted one anomaly to succeed, why bother creating others? Just dump all the Heaven’s luck to that one person and watch them rise; completely invincible.

"Qing’er," Haoran said, his voice dropping into a thoughtful murmur. "Do you still remember that anomaly, the one named Chu Fang, that I ordered you to kill back in the Cao Yin Kingdom?"

Qing’er frowned, her mind racing through the thousands of lives she had snuffed out in service to the Shen name, and after a few seconds, she gave a short, decisive nod. "Yes, Young Master. The one who claimed to have ’returned’ from a future that never happened. Is there... is there a problem with his soul-remnants?"

"No," Haoran replied, turning back to face her. "I’m thinking about the mechanics of his death. Do you remember exactly what happened before you struck the killing blow? Did the sky roar? Did a Heavenly Saint descend from the clouds to save him? Did he have a sudden, inexplicable breakthrough that pushed you back?"

Qing’er searched her memory. "None of that, Young Master. He was... pathetic. He had been framed by his enemy’s arrangements, humiliated in front of the whole academy, and thrown into the lowest light-less prison. When I arrived to execute him, he was screaming about ’revenge’ and such, but he had no defensive aura, no luck to speak of. I simply killed him quite easily, and he died like any other mortal."

Shen Haoran furrowed his brows, pacing the room.

The discrepancy was glaring. Jiang Chen had been protected by the very fabric of reality, yet Chu Fang—who possessed the knowledge of the future—had died like a dog in a ditch.

What was the difference?

He began to dissect the variables.

Chu Fang, if he remembered it correctly, was Ning Xueli’s junior, and in his "original" timeline, Xueli had been the one to protect him from bullying, and in return, he had worshipped her as his goddess.

When he had returned to the past, he had also express the intent of "claiming" her before anyone else could.

Which means... Xueli was his Heroine.

And during the time of Chu Fang’s death, where was Ning Xueli? She was by Haoran’s side, enjoying the pleasures of the flesh for the first time in her life, probably already losing her rights to be a Heroine.

After all, one of the most common traits of a heroine was not only beauty, but also their chastity.

With Xueli losing her virginity to him, it was like a declaration that she is abandoning that status.

A chilling thought took root in Haoran’s mind.

Was that the reason? A girl?

On the surface, it seemed ridiculous—that the fate of a world-shaking anomaly could hinge on a single woman.

But as he analyzed the "Protagonist" tropes he had read about from the memories of his cousin, the logic actually began to stitch together.

Chu Fang was a time traveler. When he arrived back in the past, he had only been there for a few days, so his ’Luck’ was at its absolute nadir; he hadn’t yet looted any ancient tombs or swallowed any precious herbs, basically, he hadn’t had the time to strengthen himself.

In that early stage, the only way for a protagonist to stabilize their flickering luck is to "cling" to a high-luck individual, and for Chu Fang, that was Ning Xueli.

She was the source of his initial momentum.

But Haoran had intervened, and he had taken Xueli, the "Heroine," and placed her by his side, and in doing so, he hadn’t just taken a girl; he had effectively cut off the "Luck-Source" of the protagonist.

Without his anchor, Chu Fang’s destiny became ungrounded, allowing a Saint like Qing’er to bypass the world’s protection and kill him without interference.

Jiang Chen, however, was different.

He was already a "reincarnated" old monster, and even if he was in a trash body, his soul-luck was established.

And more importantly, he still had Heroines he hadn’t met, and also that guardian protecting him, unlike that Chu Fang who was a trash that was reborn with nothing.

Haoran’s eyes grew cold as he reached a terrifying conclusion. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

In the early stages, the protagonist’s luck is not self-sustaining, or rather, their luck are still small that they needed help until they obtain opportunities to strengthen their luck.

And if he had to guess, one of the ways for the protagonist to strengthen their luck is that they take the innate luck of those around them and funnel it into themselves to fuel their own ’defiance’ of the heavens.

So, it isn’t just that they are lucky themselves. They are just taking the luck of others for themselves.

It’s basically a parasitic relationship.

if you think about it, in every novels, what happens to those around protagonist?

The Heroines, before meeting the protagonist, might still be high and mighty saintess, but after coming into contact with the protagonist for long periods of time, they are almost in a constant damsels in distress, sometimes their sects are burned down, and sometimes their families are slaughtered.

The ’Brothers-in-Arms’ who swore brotherhood with the protagonist sometimes die tragic deaths just to give the hero a ’rage-boost.’

Before they met the ’Protagonist,’ these people were usually favored children of heaven, living high and mighty lives. But after? They become fuel for the protagonist rise to power.

Which means, they have lost all their luck.

They are not even anomalies anymore, they are just parasites!

They consume the destiny of their own world to sustain their own narrative!

This realization changed everything. If the protagonist was a parasite, then the way to kill them wasn’t just to strike them with a sword—it was to starve them.

It was to take away their "Hosts."

Shen Haoran looked toward the direction where the Golden Cloud Elder had vanished with Jiang Chen as a cold, calculating smile spread across his face.

"Jiang Chen survived because the heavens still see a ’future’ for him. He still has ’Luck-Hosts’ he hasn’t drained yet." Haoran turned to Qing’er, his expression turning into one of absolute command. "Rest for one more hour, Qing’er. We aren’t going to hunt the rabbit directly anymore. We are going to find every ’Heroine’ and every ’Lucky Opportunity’ this world has to offer, and we are going to take them for the Shen Clan. I will even take away his physique and leave him with nothing but his own useless, trash body."

Qing’er stood up, her sore muscles forgotten as she bowed deeply. "I understand, Young Master."

"Heh," Haoran chuckled, looking at the dark gold sky. "Let’s see how long the ’Heavenly Favor’ lasts when there’s no one left to steal it from."

Still, for that Jiang Chen to survive, it must’ve taken a lot of his luck, or maybe he even exhausted all his luck, forcing the heavens to take away the luck of others to supplement his just so he can escape.

If that’s the case, then he wondered just who is it the heavens stole the luck from?

Unknown to him, due to his letter, in the upper realm, The Golden Cloud Immortal Sect was being razed to the ground.