Having Played the Villain for Ten Years, I Came Back - Chapter 6

At six in the morning, Wen Linyu opened his eyes on the dot. Staring at the dim, dreary ceiling, he remained in a daze for several seconds.

He was back. He was actually back.

The regret and sadness he hadn’t dared to show before now came rushing in.

I’ll never see him again, will I?

But then again, having met him at all was already more than he deserved.

He shouldn’t be greedy. At the very least, when he left, his teacher had told him not to go meaning there was at least a tiny bit of reluctance to see him leave. That small gesture alone should be enough to satisfy him.

Before that experience, no one had ever been reluctant to see him go.

Wen Linyu stared at the ceiling until his eyes felt dry. He lay motionless on the bed, meticulously organizing every memory of his teacher from the past ten years. He refused to let a single detail fade; those memories were his treasures, a private collection only he could browse.

After a long while, Linyu composed himself and rose from the bed, which was as hard as a slab of rock.

He didn’t turn on the light, yet his vision was perfectly clear. He paused for a moment—his original body had suffered from severe nearsightedness, requiring thick glasses just to see anything.

How is this possible?

Wen Linyu looked down at his hands. With a single thought, a pitch-black sword materialized in his palm. This was his soul-bound sword, something his teacher had instructed him to find. He remembered his teacher saying that the Demon Sword belonged to Gu Chi and wasn’t for him to use. He needed his own blade, fused with his soul, so he would never be without a weapon.

“Was this a reward from the System?” Linyu stroked the blade before putting it away. He had studied so hard over the last ten years that he’d almost forgotten the original deal: fulfill the ten-year mission as a villain, and he could return with rewards.

He had forgotten to claim them before leaving. Had 998 chosen this cultivation level for him?

It seemed he owed the little chick a thank-you, too.

Wen Linyu closed his hand into a fist, sensing his surroundings. There was no spiritual energy in the air, but the “Yin” energy was exceptionally heavy. Looking around the pitch-black room, he smiled.

The house he currently lived in was a massive luxury villa covering over four thousand square meters. The main building had six floors: four above ground and two below. Wen Linyu lived on the second basement level. It consisted of a single room in the center, surrounded by solid walls with no windows. It was rectangular, with four thick pillars standing in the corners.

It was dark, suffocating, and felt exactly like a nailed-shut coffin.

Linyu washed up unhurriedly. There was no elevator to the second basement level, only stairs. He climbed them step by step until he reached the first basement level.

This floor was the polar opposite of where he slept. Though both were underground, the difference was night and day.

The central hall was spacious and bright, furnished with comfortable sofas and lined with display cabinets showcasing the owners’ various treasures. Facing the hall was a V-shaped double staircase with a stage in the middle. Lush green bamboo stood beside the cabinets, adding a touch of elegance to the room’s opulence.

This floor alone was grand enough to serve as a private museum.

The live-in nannies also stayed on this floor. Their rooms were near the garage a 120-square-meter, three-bedroom apartment filled with light. There was nothing dark or oppressive about their living quarters.

Linyu took the elevator from this floor to the ground level. As the doors opened, his view expanded. The main hall was magnificent, resembling a palace. From the elevator, he could see the absurdly large front yard.

The yard featured fountains and sculptures, and a perfectly manicured lawn that even included a helipad. The backyard was equally impressive, with a maple forest further back, a garden in full bloom, and a stream where fish swam freely.

The backyard was covered in signs of the family’s life: the “Princess’s” floral swing, the “Prince’s” log cabin in the woods, the mistress’s sunroom, and the master’s lounge chair.

Notably, there was nothing belonging to Wen Linyu.

In the past, this sight would have filled Linyu with endless sorrow. But now, he looked it over and smiled, amused that he had never realized just how beautiful this house was.

That’s right—it was his home, wasn’t it?

As for the people he hated, wouldn’t it be easier just to kick them out?

As the thought surfaced, Linyu couldn’t help but curve his lips. It wasn’t a cold smile; it was one of genuine excitement. If his teacher knew, he would definitely praise him again.

He felt a twinge of regret that he hadn’t asked 998 to record his teacher’s voice. How wonderful would it be if he could listen to it every day?

Lost in thought, Linyu walked straight to the dining room and sat down at the head of the table.

The kitchen staff, busy preparing breakfast, heard someone enter. After a few seconds, a woman walked out with a meal, a smile on her face. That smile vanished the moment she saw Wen Linyu. When she realized where he was sitting, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

Seeing her frozen in the doorway, the other kitchen staff called out, “What’s wrong?”

The woman didn’t put the meal down; instead, she retreated and whispered to the others, “Something’s wrong today. That kid came to the dining room early, and he actually dared to sit in President Wen’s chair!”

“What? Are you serious?”

“No way! Since when did he get so brave?”

Treating it like a freak occurrence, the kitchen erupted in hushed gossip. Several people poked their heads out to look. Seeing Wen Linyu sitting there, they looked as if they had seen a ghost.

In the end, no one brought breakfast to him. Linyu wasn’t in a hurry. He just sat there, his eyes lingering on every expensive item in the room.

After a while, someone else arrived.

Wen Cheng walked into the dining room, yawning and scuffing his slippers. He sat in his usual spot and let out another yawn before his peripheral vision caught something strange.

He snapped awake, staring at Wen Linyu in shock. “Why are you sitting there?!”

Wen Linyu was twirling a thin twig plucked from a vase on the table between his fingers. At the question, he glanced at Wen Cheng and asked, “Why shouldn’t I sit here?”

“You…” Wen Cheng instinctively checked behind him. Seeing no one, he lowered his voice. “You’d better get up quickly. If Dad sees you when he comes down, he’s going to be furious.”

Wen Linyu replied, “If he wants to be angry, that’s his business. What does it have to do with me?”

“How can you.” Wen Cheng was about to keep protesting when he realized how different Wen Linyu looked today.

He wasn’t hanging his head, and he wasn’t wearing those deathly stupid glasses. His overgrown hair was pulled back, revealing his forehead and eyes. Wen Cheng had never realized that Wen Linyu looked like this.

Linyu didn’t look miserable at all. He had inherited all the best features of the Wen parents; his face was a blend of gender-neutral beauty and allure. His “doe eyes” were clear and bright, and when they lowered slightly, he looked like a harmless, small animal.

In the past, those eyes were dull, hidden behind glasses and shaggy bangs. Wen Cheng had never even noticed them.

Staring at that face, Wen Cheng felt even more pity. “Just get up. You’re the one who’s going to suffer in the end, isn’t it?”

Wen Cheng had complicated feelings toward Wen Linyu. He was the adopted son, raised in luxury. When the Wens brought their biological son back, he expected the relationship to be awkward. He had been debating whether to play nice or compete for favor, but the reality was nothing like he imagined.

The Wens didn’t care about their biological son at all. They treated him like air. In the three years since he’d been back, the parents hadn’t even spoken a direct word to him, let alone looked him in the eye.

That kind of cold violence was suffocating. Just imagining himself in that position made Wen Cheng shudder, so he couldn’t bring himself to hate Linyu—he only felt pity. He was also deeply confused; to this day, he didn’t understand why his parents treated their own son this way. What kind of grudge could justify it? Wen Linyu had been a mere child when they abandoned him!

Yes, this wasn’t a case of “wrongly swapped babies.” Wen Linyu’s parents had simply tossed him to someone else as a child and ignored him for over a decade. They didn’t care about the life he led with that family. They brought him back thinking it was a homecoming, but it was just a different kind of hell.

For as long as he could remember, Wen Linyu had spent every day reflecting on what he had done wrong. What wasn’t he doing well enough for his parents to want him? Why were they doing this? Wasn’t he their child?

But during his ten years as a villain, he learned a lesson: there is no point in self-deprecating over people who aren’t worth it. Don’t ask why something is happening ask by what right they think they can do it.

So, when the Wen parents came downstairs and entered the dining room, frowning at the sight of him, Wen Linyu didn’t move an inch.

If they wanted to stand there and stare, that was their problem. In the past, their “intimidating gaze” worked every time. At a single frown, Linyu would have bowed his head in a submissive apology, assuming he was at fault before they even spoke.

Today, Linyu didn’t even blink.

They had never bothered to look at him, so he didn’t plan to look at them. They weren’t worthy.

President Wen and his wife remained in a silent standoff for a while. Eventually, they failed to break their streak of not speaking to him; they simply sat in other chairs with their brows locked in a deep scowl.

Seeing them finally seated, the nannies breathed a sigh of relief and began serving breakfast.

The meals were pre-portioned, with slight variations for each person’s taste. Wen Linyu looked down at his portion: it was thin, watery soup, small in quantity and poor in quality. He looked at the others’ meals, scanning every plate, before speaking up: “Wait.”

The three of them, about to eat, all looked at him.

He finally stood up. President Wen’s expression softened slightly, but only for a second—before Linyu walked over, unceremoniously snatched his father’s breakfast, and tossed his own bowl of thin porridge in its place.

He literally threw it. Porridge splashed across President Wen’s sleeve, with a few drops landing on his face.

Wen Cheng’s mouth fell open, and the nannies preparing the food collectively gasped. Linyu’s meager portion was something they had prepared on purpose, a routine they had maintained for three years.

President Wen surged to his feet, his face dark with rage as he glared at Wen Linyu, who had already sat back down to eat. “Apologize!”

Mrs. Wen, her face already tight, looked at Linyu with an expression of profound disappointment.

Wen Linyu acted as if he heard and saw nothing. He finished the stolen breakfast without acknowledging either of them. Once finished, he reached out and grabbed the vase from the center of the table as if no one else were in the room.

At this move, everyone in the room tensed up.

Is he finally exploding after all this silence?! Is he going to smash that vase over President Wen’s head?

President Wen’s face was shaking with fury.

Wen Linyu had no such plan. It wasn’t that he was afraid; it was just that with so many witnesses, it would be a hassle. He poured the water out of the vase and wrapped the flowers and the vessel together, stuffing them into a plastic bag in front of everyone.

He had no money. He planned to sell both the flowers and the vase. His intention was so blatant he didn’t even bother to hide it.

“Put that down! Are you that desperate for money?” President Wen was beyond livid. This “debt-collector” of a son was finally revolting!

Hearing this, Wen Linyu finally looked at him. He asked curiously, “Do you have amnesia? When have you ever given me money?”

That single sentence silenced President Wen instantly. The kitchen staff, following their gossiping instincts, began to whisper; even they hadn’t realized that the President had never given Wen Linyu a single cent.

In the end, everyone watched as Wen Linyu walked out the door, bag in hand.

Just as Mrs. Wen was muttering, “He’s gone mad, completely mad,” Linyu suddenly returned. He walked up to his parents, grabbed a handful of hair from each of their heads and yanked, then unceremoniously snatched a ring and a necklace from them.

His movements looked slow and deliberate almost elegant—but they were incredibly fast. With his loot in hand, Linyu finally departed.

The entire room was stunned. The security guards, who had rushed in after hearing the screams, were frozen in confusion. What was this? A robbery by the biological son?

“Aaaaah! What do we pay you for?! Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Useless! You’re all useless!”

The shouting faded as Wen Linyu walked away. Once outside the villa, he looked at the ring and necklace in the bag and felt a slight pang of annoyance. He had grown so used to robbing Lu Feng that he’d snatched these two items without even thinking about it.

Well, since he’d already taken them, he might as well sell them.

It was Sunday, so there was no school. Wen Linyu sold the vase, the ring, and the necklace at a low price. Items worth several million were sold for only about five hundred thousand. A loss? He didn’t care; there was plenty more where that came from.

With the money, he bought clothes and a new phone, got a haircut, changed into his new outfit, and took a taxi to the most desolate cemetery hill in the city.

Even in broad daylight, the place was thick with eerie “Yin” energy. The driver didn’t dare stay; he took the payment and bolted.

Wen Linyu entered the mountain, heading toward the spot where the energy was strongest. Reaching the center of the clearing, he spoke calmly to the empty graveyard:

“I’m here for business. I want to trade the lifespans of two people for money. Who wants to take the contract?”

His teacher had told him: Kindness doesn’t have to be repaid, but a grudge must never last through the night. If someone harms you once, make them pay a hundredfold.

This was the basic requirement for a villain.

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