Having Played the Villain for Ten Years, I Came Back - Chapter 25

Inside a high-end residential complex, the same “etiquette teacher” who had appeared at the Wen villa just yesterday was currently reporting the situation to an elderly man.

“I went to see Mrs. Wen, and the sight was truly horrific.” Just thinking about it made the disciple shiver. He hadn’t mastered the arts, but he could tell exactly what kind of agony that woman was suffering; it could truly only be described as a fate worse than death.

He had no desire to end up like that. Having been lucky enough to be released, he was already planning to make a run for it.

The old man seemed to see right through his thoughts, unhurriedly flicking his horsetail whisk. “You’ve been with me for so long, yet you still act like you’ve never seen the world.”

The disciple choked on the fine hairs and dust kicked up by the whisk. He thought to himself, It’s just the two of us here—who are you still trying to impress? aloud, he played along with a hollow laugh. “Yes, yes, Master is right. It’s just that this time, I really have a bad feeling about this.”

“What if you’ve finally kicked a steel plate this time? What if they come knocking on our door? Um, I just realized I might have left the stove on at home, so I’ll be heading back now…”

The old man was so incensed by these words he nearly ripped out his own beard. “You rebellious brat!” Was there anyone else who cursed their own side like this?

“Right here!” the disciple answered. He let out a sigh; he had accompanied his master in quite a few illegal dealings, so running away wouldn’t be that easy.

But just as he answered, a knock sounded at the door.

To the disciple, the sound felt like it was pounding directly on his heart, a dull, heavy thud. The old man, however, didn’t care. “Go open the door and see which client has come to visit.”

With an inexplicable sense of dread, the disciple went to open the door. The moment it swung open, he wished he could slam it shut immediately.

It’s over. I jinxed it!

I should have just bolted—why did I stay to report anything! The disciple was filled with deathly regret, but it was too late to close the door now. Forcing a smile that looked more painful than crying, he welcomed the two visitors inside.

The old man was still stroking his beard. Seeing his disciple lead people in, he deliberately struck a pose of “transcendental grace,” mysteriously closing his eyes to rest his spirit.

When the guests arrived before him, his eyes opened right on cue. He was prepared to offer a benevolent, profound smile, but he froze midway.

One of the visitors was someone he recognized or rather, someone whose photo he had seen many times.

After all, the Wen couple were his long-term clients, and he was the one who helped them steal the luck and fate of their biological son.

The old man instinctively glanced at his disciple, who had shrunk into the corner like a quailing chick. He cursed his bad luck; the brat’s prediction had actually come true.

“So you’re the one who helped Wen Hongbo and his wife?” Wen Linyu studied the old man. His cultivation was decent for this world; he was actually close to the Foundation Establishment stage.

But he was covered in a thick, foul aura of evil—no matter how he tried to hide it, it was glaringly obvious.

Gu Chi curled his lips. It had been a long time since he’d seen an evil cultivator. Although the man was only at the Qi Refining stage, he would serve as a nice “snack” to satisfy Gu Chi’s combat itch.

Before that, however, Gu Chi looked at Wen Linyu. If his Ayu wanted to handle this personally, he would naturally step aside.

The old man was still oblivious to the gravity of the situation. His cultivation was far below the two standing before him, so he couldn’t sense their power at all. He continued to stroke his beard, eyeing Wen Linyu out of the corner of his eye.

In his view, how could a normal person ever hope to contend with him? So what if the boy held a grudge?

He had encountered this situation many times before. Ordinary people were always in awe and terror of powers beyond their understanding. Linyu wouldn’t dare do anything to him; at most, the boy just wanted his parents to suffer.

And as the middleman who cast the spells, the old man just needed to find a way to make another profit.

He waited for Wen Linyu to speak first. And Linyu did: “You’re the one who set up the arrays for Wen Hongbo? The basement room was your work? And you’re the reason they abandoned me with another family as a child?”

Hearing this, the old man didn’t deny it. He nodded to each point, looking almost proud. “Indeed, it was I. When your parents brought you to see me, I saw at a glance that your fate was extraordinary. Unfortunately, when your parents heard this, the first thing they thought of was—”

He was still gloating, believing his deeds were a display of great divine power. But the moment Wen Linyu received the confirmation, a black sword manifested in his hand. Without any warning—a true zero-frame start—he slashed through the old man’s hamstrings and wrist tendons, then shattered his sea of consciousness. All of the man’s cultivation vanished in an instant.

The old man collapsed into a pool of blood, the agonizing pain spreading from his limbs to the depths of his soul. He hadn’t even fully processed what happened.

Wait, this isn’t right. This wasn’t the script!

Where did he get this kind of power? Aaaah, my cultivation! It’s gone, all gone!

The old man was in disbelief. In just a single exchange, he had been rendered utterly defenseless and dealt with as easily as chopping vegetables.

He couldn’t understand—if Wen Linyu had always possessed this kind of power, none of his arrays would have ever worked!

Gu Chi felt a bit of regret that he didn’t get to act, but he was proud: his disciple was very efficient when dealing with enemies.

But it wasn’t over yet. Wen Linyu cast a glance toward the disciple huddled by the door, who was so terrified he was trying to play dead. Linyu threw a phone—taken from the old man’s person at him.

“Start a confession livestream. List every single wicked thing you and your master have done over the years in detail.”

“Otherwise…”

The disciple didn’t need to hear the rest of that “otherwise.” He slapped himself twice across the face in regret. Why did I delay? If I had just run yesterday, none of this would be my problem!

But now, once his master’s dirty laundry was aired, he, as the accomplice, wouldn’t have a good end either.

Wait, wait? Does turning yourself in reduce your sentence? If I turn state’s witness, I might get a lighter punishment, right?

The disciple’s eyes darted around as he began to calculate the “after-life arrangements” for his master. The old man lying on the floor, barely breathing, realized exactly what kind of person he had taken on as a student. His heart filled with desolation and infinite regret.

When the livestream began, the old man realized his mouth was no longer under his control. It was as if someone were flipping through his memories; whenever a page was turned, his mouth would spill out the relevant details of a specific event. Once a story was told, the invisible hand would keep flipping.

The old man’s head spun with nausea, and the list of his own crimes was so long and foul that it sounded as if he himself couldn’t stomach his own depravity.

No one felt any pity for him.

Wen Linyu scanned the livestream room for a few moments then ignored it, calling the police to report the master and disciple for running a cult and spreading feudal superstitions.

Furthermore, he intended to sue the old man for fraud to reclaim all the money Wen Hongbo and his wife had spent there. That money had been exchanged for his own luck and fate; therefore, it belonged to him.

The police acted quickly upon receiving the report. When they arrived, the old man was still “spilling the beans” on his misdeeds. The more people heard, the angrier they became, and the livestream audience unknowingly grew to tens of thousands.

Seeing the police arrest the pair, the audience cheered. Although the livestream was short, the old man’s confession served as a wake-up call to the public, making people wary of anyone trying to take their hair or blood under various pretenses.

Even if people didn’t believe in the supernatural, the thought of someone scheming to “swap fates” was disgusting enough. People preferred to be safe than sorry.

Because of this, many people online began discussing those malicious, harmful schemes. While not everyone took it to heart, it served as a much-needed reminder to stay vigilant.

Wen Linyu didn’t bother with the aftermath. After leaving the police station, he went home with Gu Chi.

Wen Hongbo hadn’t returned yet. Wen Cheng looked even more haggard than he had that morning, and Wen Xi had returned at some point as well. She currently looked like Wen Cheng’s twin—both pale, skeletal, and drained of their life force.

Wen Linyu glanced at them and looked away. Wen Xi’s expression was complicated.

She didn’t quite believe Linyu’s words, but reality seemed to be leaning toward his explanation. She felt that repaying her parents for years of upbringing was only right—but what if that love and care had been a sham from the very beginning? What if, in their eyes, she had always been just a tool?

Wen Xi was lost. She wanted to ask Wen Linyu, but they weren’t close. She asked Wen Cheng, but they were both stuck on the same questions, with answers that shifted from one possibility to another.

Wen Linyu didn’t care how others chose to live. After returning home, he just wanted to curl up comfortably on the sofa and play some of the small team-based games he’d seen others playing.

Gu Chi had never played them either. His technique was incredibly clumsy and his patience was non-existent. After playing for a short while, he began shouting at the screen, engaging in a “life-and-death battle” with the AI for three hundred rounds. Wen Linyu couldn’t stop laughing.

As expected, his Teacher was truly childish sometimes, and incredibly competitive.

The next day, Wen Hongbo still hadn’t returned. In the evening, news finally arrived.

A pale-faced Wen Cheng found Wen Linyu and told him that Wen Hongbo had sold all his shares and properties in the group and had disappeared. No one knew where he had gone.

“He ran away?” Hearing this, Wen Linyu was slightly surprised, but then realized it was exactly the kind of thing that man would do.

Lin Wanxiu’s condition had likely terrified Wen Hongbo. He might have tried to contact the “Master,” but the man was unreachable and had appeared on the news. Deprived of his accomplice, Wen Hongbo didn’t dare face Wen Linyu at all.

After weighing his options, fleeing was his only path.

What a coward, Linyu thought. In the past, the man had mocked him for being weak, yet when faced with danger, this “father” had abandoned his wife and children to run away with the money. He truly had no sense of responsibility.

However, the man seemed to have forgotten one thing. He had always used the term “blood connection” so conveniently in the past; now, Wen Linyu intended to use that very connection to drag him back.

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