The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

....A technique involving Yin exchange.

"..."

Zhao Mei's brows twitched. "You want to dual cultivate?"

Su Xiaobai let out a low, amused chuckle.

Then pointed casually toward the stiff little bed behind him.

"No. Just lie down and spread your legs."

Direct, blunt, and no room for negotiations.

Her face morphed instantly—anger, disbelief, embarrassment—all crashing together like clashing spirit beasts.

"Has no one ever told you to hesitate before speaking!?" she snapped.

Su Xiaobai smiled thinly.

"I tried hesitation once."

"Got betrayed, stabbed, and killed."

"Didn't like it."

Zhao Mei gritted her teeth.

But she moved.

Not because she liked him. Not because she wanted it.

Because she knew how this world worked.

And Su Xiaobai? He wasn't the kind of man you refused when he was in a mood.

She walked to the bed, the tight clack of armored heels on spiritwood planks the only sound in the room.

Then she started stripping.

Piece by piece.

The red gauntlets first—clinking softly as they hit the floor. Then the thigh guards, smooth and slow. Finally, the chest armor—lifted off with one sharp breath, revealing skin so pale and perfect it made Su Xiaobai pause.

She was fire-aspect.

But under all that heat?

She was snow.

'You're doing a fucking strip tease,' he muttered, rubbing his temple.

"Not performing in a sect brothel. Move faster."

Her eye twitched hard.

If she had her fire gloves on, she'd have punched a sun through his chest.

But she didn't.

So she just pressed her lips tight, cheeks flushed with a mix of rage and humiliation, and pulled the last of it off.

Bare.

She sat on the edge of the bed, legs tight together, back straight.

Like a soldier awaiting execution.

But Su Xiaobai wasn't looking for consent.

He was looking for compatibility.

And what he saw?

Pale skin, flushed in all the right places. Smooth lines, toned muscle, curves restrained by years of battle and spiritual frustration. Her legs stayed closed—protective, unsure—but her breasts...

They were free.

Round... Soft... Natural.

And the tiny, trembling pink peaks on them twitched under his gaze like they'd been waiting for him.

"...Grateful little bastards," Su Xiaobai muttered under his breath.

Then he moved forward, casually discarding his own upper robe, letting spiritual mist curl across his bare chest as he approached her like a tiger nearing a deer that thought it had a choice.

The deer's face turned crimson—not from desire, but from pure, undiluted spiritual shame.

A woman's pride?

A woman's cool composure?

Gone... Vaporized.

Because right now?

A beast of a man—shirtless, smug, holding both her well-toned thighs like handles to the gates of heaven—was about to spiritually repossess her V-card with the same energy he used to loot ancient tombs.

Even Zhao Mei, known for her stoic personality and cold-blooded combat aura, felt her heartbeat spike like a sword cultivator about to commit technique theft.

"It'll hurt," Su Xiaobai said, tone casual, full of fake sympathy. "...Just a little."

Liar.

The man was practically fanning the flames of anxiety on purpose.

With every breath, every casual press of skin against skin, he was cultivating her panic, watching her body twitch under his touch like she was moments away from a Qi deviation.

She gritted her teeth.

He smiled like a villain lighting incense at his victim's wedding.

And then—

The holy rod descended.

Breached the sacred gate.

Entered the forbidden flower garden like a demonic cultivator sneaking past the veil into a forbidden sect realm.

And it wasn't gentle.

"UGHHH—!! Y-YOU LIED!*" Zhao Mei hissed, back arching.

What "little pain"!?

This wasn't some gentle Yin exchange—this was a full-on Heaven-Piercing Rod Technique, and her poor, neglected spiritual pathways were screaming for divine intervention.

Her legs spread wide, involuntarily, her body betraying her like an inner sect disciple under interrogation.

Her eyes misted with fresh tears...

Heat rose through her core like a fire tribulation gone sideways.

And Su Xiaobai?

He simply tilted his head.

Frowned... Glanced down.

"…Huh."

"That's wrong."

"It shouldn't be like this."

Like he was critiquing a formation array.

Because of course he was.

There were only two little droplets of blood. Just a trace—barely there.

Her inner walls were tight, yes. Wrapped around him like silk spun from rebellion.

It was hot, but nothing he couldn't handle. Standard virgin seal breaking. Nothing exotic.

Until it wasn't.

Because then…

The temperature spiked.

Not gradually... Not subtly.

No, no.

Instant sauna-to-fucking-volcano.

If, a moment ago, his dick felt like it was soaking in a warm bath, now it felt like some celestial dumbass had cranked the heat to Hellfire Tribulation.

"Tch—!"

He hissed, sharp, pained and betrayed.

"What the actual hell!?"

It felt like someone dipped his sacred rod in boiling lava, sealed it inside a fire lotus, then dared the flames to get hornier.

His veins pulsed. His shaft throbbed. Every inch of him screamed "RETREAT, RETREAT!"

He looked at Zhao Mei—and what he saw wasn't a blushing, post-deflowered cultivator.

No.

She was crying.

Tears ran down her cheeks like she'd just triggered the wrong hidden formation.

Then—

WHOOSH!

"FUCK!

Su Xiaobai yanked his dick out of her flower palace like he was disarming a spirit bomb, backstepping with the precision of a man dodging divine retribution.

And good thing he did—

Because her whole body erupted into flames

Literal flames. Orange, bright and hungry.

"SHE'S IGNITING!?"

Yes.

Zhao Mei—sweet, quiet, neglected slave girl—was now a walking fireball of spiritual combustion, cloaked in Phoenix-tier flames like she was cosplaying a mini sun.

Su Xiaobai could barely see through the blaze.

The bed caught fire.

The floor cracked.

The damn ship creaked under the pressure.

"Damn it—"

He cursed.

"I haven't even paid Qingqing back for this ship yet!"

He activated his Invincible Body—Qi flaring around him like a barrier of war crimes—and dove into the inferno like a man saving a fragile jade vase from a battlefield.

BANG!

He grabbed Zhao Mei—still burning, still weeping, still naked—and without another word, yeeted her back into his **ring world like she was a cursed artifact that belonged anywhere but here.

Gone.

Silence.

He stood in the ruins—still fucking naked, dick twitching like a pissed-off dragon that got fed ghost pepper soup and wasn't allowed to finish.

It hung low.

Confused, angry and unfulfilled.

Sob...

Twitched again.

"Tch."

Su Xiaobai ignored its protest.

Wiped the cold sweat off his brow, put out the remaining flames with a lazy wave, then dropped onto the scorched bedframe like a man who just survived an ambush involving vagina-induced spontaneous combustion.

He stared at the dark wodden ceiling.

Blank.

Exhausted.

"...The hell just happened?"

Su Xiaobai sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slumped against the still-smoldering wreckage of what used to be a bed.

He closed his eyes.

Consciousness—enter.

His spirit sea shimmered, and in the next instant, he was inside the swirling void of his inner world.

Good news:

The Heavenly Yin Reservoir was working.

There it was—a single, tiny shimmering drop of virgin Yin, floating inside the vast reservoir like a lonely pearl in a spiritual bowl.

"Wow." He muttered.

"Nearly got my dick incinerated for that?"

No joy, no celebration.

Just post-traumatic dick stress.

Still naked, still annoyed, he decided to check in on the walking campfire herself.

Consciousness—redirect.

He dove into his ring world—his personal dimension the size of a small country, teeming with spiritual Qi, scenic mountains, cultivation caves, and a population of women who mostly wanted him dead or inside them.

Mostly both.

The moment his awareness entered—

Flames.

Still burning.

Zhao Mei was curled up like a pissed-off phoenix egg, surrounded by glowing orange flames that were slowly stabilizing.

But she wasn't alone.

Su Xiaobai's brows twitched.

Standing there, arms extended like a flame-whispering priestess, was a woman he had tried very hard to forget.

Or rather—tried very hard to suppress like a traumatic side quest.

Xiao Hei.

The murder loli.

Once a pint-sized assassin with a penchant for poison and a bloodlust bigger than her ego. Now?

A murder MILF, apparently.

All grown up. Curves where there used to be daggers. Dressed in loose red and black robe, her bossom defying sect regulations, her face cold and focused—but her Qi?

Hungry.

She was absorbing Zhao Mei's flame like it was foreplay, not helping, just feeding.

Su Xiaobai clicked his tongue. "Tch. Women's business."

He backed out. He'd seen enough.

Because right now?

He was still shaking.

Not spiritually.

Emotionally.

You know the two scariest moments in a man's life?

One: when he signs a marriage scroll.

Two: when he puts his dick somewhere and something fights back.

And while he hadn't gone oral, the sheer terror of almost losing his meat stick to spontaneous combustion was close enough.

He glanced down.

Still intact, still twitching.

Angry, like a beast denied a feast.

"Sorry, little brother," he whispered. "She tried to cook you alive."

Time for a change of pace.

_____

Rustle~

With a cold night breeze swirling his robe and a fresh aura of 'don't fuck with me' covering his thick skin, Su Xiaobai marched up to the locked cabin with the fox twins inside.

Bang!

The door creaked open.

And inside?

Spiritual carnage.

Hu Jiao'er and Hu Mei'er were slumped against each other like two half-dead flushed peaches, clothes wrinkled, armor unbuckled, hair tousled like they just lost a duel with a sex formation.

The cabin was stained with fragrance mist and soft moans. A full ten hours had passed, and they were fried.

Exhausted.

Dazed.

And then—

Sniff.

The moment his masculine scent drifted into the room, both girls stirred like hungry foxes sniffing a winter rabbit.

Their blank eyes blinked. Glazed. Desperate.

And then they lunged.

"MMNGH—!"

Hu Jiao'er—usually the proud one, the cold one, the 'don't-touch-me-or-I'll-slap-you' one—crashed into him with swollen red lips, smashing her mouth against his like a starving beast.

Her tongue dove into his mouth like it was trying to steal his soul.

Then Hu Mei'er joined in—pushing her sister aside and kissing him too, soft hands trailing up his bare chest, their twin tongues twining around his like snakes in heat.

"Calm down, ladies…" Su Xiaobai groaned.

"I'm not running. I'm just recovering from almost being set on fire by a pussy."

But they didn't care.

They were gone.

Delirious.

And honestly?

So was he.

His expression was deadpan, his Qi tired, his soul disappointed.

But his dick?

Oh, his dick was furious.

It twitched so hard it almost bent sideways. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"No action… then boiling… then nothing again?!"

It throbbed! Demanded vengeance!

Justice!!

A mouth, a hole, something.

So Su Xiaobai sighed, spread his arms, and let the fox girls drape over him like expensive furniture.

"Fine."

"Let's feed the beast."

He looked down at the two exotic snow foxes—flushed, desperate, dripping from spiritual overexertion.

"You're lucky I'm still breathing."

"Let's make it worth the burn."