The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 271: *The Bitch, the Beast, and the Burning Moon!*

Hours after... Midnight.

Twin moons hung above the world like a pair of immortal breasts, pale, unblinking, shrouded in veils of mist, the kind that once drove sages mad and monks to break their vows under the guise of "observing heavenly phenomena."

Volcanic winds kissed the trees below, carrying ribbons of ember-silk from the spire's molten core. The heat moved lazily, curling around leaves like a slutty flame sprite stretching after a thousand-year nap.

Beneath a grove of gnarled spirit trees, branches heavy with dew and secrets, a figure stirred under her Veil.

Ranran, or so this diguise of hers had chosen to be called.

From above, she was but glimpses between leaves: dusky brown hair, wild and tangled like it had been molested by lightning; smooth skin kissed by moonlight and sweat; and somewhere beneath the gauze veil, eyes colder than glacier-forged jade, watching the night like it owed her answers.

Her breath was quiet, but inside, she was anything but still.

"Haa… Haa…"

Not lust, not fear, just the panting of a spirit grinding against memory.

Mu Tianlei... Pounded into blood-pudding until his bones squeaked apologies.

Repeatedly.

Vividly...

Mu Qingshan, turned into tasteful vertical wall decor before being put down like a wild beast.

Poisoned vines, spirit crocodiles with a taste for thighs, trees that licked intruders with aphrodisiac sap.

Venomous mist, and screams swallowed by the soil.

But worst of all—

Shi Tian.

Felon.

Demon.

Rogue cultivator without shame or soul.

Each time, she evaded him by a hair's breadth. Yet each time, his gaze pierced illusions, lies, maybe... even the fabric of her own disguise.

Tonight, he was nowhere near.

And yet—he had stolen her rest.

He... like the aftertaste of an unholy pill. A barbaric devil without cultivation etiquette, without courtesy, without reason.

Why had he… wanted to strip her defenses? Enter her space? Enter her?

He once said—what were those ridiculous words?

"Beauty is like mist. It lingers for but a moment beneath Heaven's gaze. When the sun pierces the clouds, all the world's ugliness is laid bare.The heart—that is where the real trial lies..."

Did he mean… she made his dao-heart twitch?

"R-Rouge…" she muttered under her breath, kicking a leaf in indignation, face reddening slightly as she shook her head beneath the veil, a crimson bloom rising to her neck.

'Ridiculous! To think of such things… when I haven't even found the exit to this cursed realm!'

This pocket world had offered her nothing but shattered nerves and far too many glimpses of one lunatic's descent into qi deviation.

She turned to her side, willing rest to come.

But sleep?

Sleep danced away like a teasing fox spirit, smirking from the shadows, impossible to catch.

She'd have better luck attaining enlightenment during a thunder tribulation than finding rest beneath these cursed moons.

"Sigh~"

Admitting defeat to both Heaven and hormones, Su Yiran rose in silence.

Her fingers brushed across her bare, moon-pale shoulders, the skin supple and faintly luminous, like immortal jade left to soak in silver dew. A soft mist spilled from her lips, each breath like incense drifting from a scandalous scripture.

She pulled her shawl closer, thin black silk, sheer as night's veil. It wrapped around her body like shadow clinging to snow, fluttering gently with her steps as she moved beyond the campfire's protection.

No destination. Only instinct. Moonlight trickled through the trees like liquid spirit stone, guiding her.

Until—

"Ahh… Shi Tian…"

A voice, soft, breathy, soaked in yin essence. A moan not meant for mortal ears.

Su Yiran stiffened mid-step.

Her breath halted, every nerve in her body tensed.

Another voice followed, louder now, trembling, desperate, soaked in disarray.

"Shi Tian… deeper…"

"Don't stop—I can feel… my meridians melting—!"

Her brow twitched, gracefully.

Shi Tian…?

A most unfortunate name to hear during what sounded like… dual cultivation.

Without thinking, she muted her presence, suppressing even the ripple of her breath and slid silently through the trees, guided by the scandalous chorus.

She passed beneath thick boughs and curling roots, deeper into the moon-drenched grove.

And then, movement.

Behind tall, swaying grass, a silhouette rustled.

She halted.

"Hss~!"

Her body snapped low, hiding behind a twisted spiritwood trunk, her breath caught like a trapped butterfly.

Did they see her?

She didn't want to know.

She wanted to leave.

But…

Shi Tian...? Doing this? Out here, in the open, in the night that belonged to ghosts and silent blades?

'Curse my curiosity,' she whispered inwardly, as she parted a veil of wild ferns with shaking fingers.

And what she saw... Her heart didn't just skip.

It plummeted off a celestial cliff.

There, half-buried in a moss-bed of sin and dew, was a pale figure, arched backwards like a sacrificial offering to some lecherous moon god. Legs trembling. Robes in disarray. Breasts bouncing like stubborn spirit melons resisting the laws of shame.

And behind her.

A figure moved.

Rhythmically.

Powerfully.

Thrusting like a man chasing Dao enlightenment through the backdoor of mortal restraint.

Each impact seemed to echo with wind, shaking the nearby leaves. His robes had been discarded to the lust, and only the moon bore witness to the sacred, barbaric ritual upon that mossy altar.

Su Yiran's lips parted slightly.

Not in desire.

But in existential horror.

Is that really Shi Tian...?

...That filthy, Dao-deviated dog of a man… actually practicing field dual-cultivation?

With a woman bent like a defeated war general over moss and regret?

And yet… there was power there.

She could feel it.

Yin and Yang spiraling, moving through the grass like ghostfire. A coupling so intense it was borderline demonic. A convergence of Qi that even some Sect Manuals dared not describe, lest their pages ignite from sheer shame.

She bit her lip.

Torn between fleeing, laughing, or possibly purifying herself with spiritual lightning.

But one thing was clear—

This man… this beast…

'Was plowing someone so hard the very trees looked away in silence...'

The words echoed in her mind like a cursed mantra. Su Yiran's cheeks flushed, half from shame, half from the audacity of her own inner voices.

Still… her eyes narrowed, squinting like a divine auditor peering through karmic mist.

Who was getting plowed, really?

Shi Tian… She'd always seen him more as a whimsical demon in human skin, less interested in pleasure, more interested in blood.

So who had he found to desecrate tonight?

A lover? A concubine? A bound slave?

And then, as the mist parted and moonlight kissed the glistening scene.

"Wen Luli…" Su Yiran whispered, stunned.

It was unmistakable.

Wen Luli, once a proud disciple of the Ironclad Lotus Sect, a woman whose lectures on modesty could make phoenixes yawn.

Now?

Reduced to a moaning meat cauldron, ass-up under the stars, getting used like a moonlit ghost-sealing talisman.

Her once-honored crimson robe covered her elbows like a defeated sect banner, shredded and soaked in sweat.

Her body, fair, flushed, fevered, trembled beneath each thrust.

"Boing~"

Her twin spiritual peaks, those sacred jade hills once concealed beneath layers of modesty, now bounced with every collision, jiggling like jelly trapped in a tribulation array. At their center: delicate crimson buds, hardened and shameless, flickering like twin flame-lanterns in the cold night.

Pakh! Pakh! Pakh!

The sound of flesh upon flesh rang out like a vulgar war drum, each thrust plunging into her soaked valley as though Shi Tian sought to drill a tunnel to the Netherworld.

"Shi Tian—please! Split me open like you did Mu Tianlei!"

Her moan shattered the night like a talisman exploding on stone.

Her hair, once coiled into a neat disciple's knot, now splayed like black ink across the moss. Mouth wide, eyes wild—her gaze glowed with the starlight of deranged ecstasy.

"Hng~!" She drooled. She actually drooled.

Then he slammed her down like a beast claiming territory. Her legs folded past her ears like a cultivation manual mid-technique. It looked painful. It looked divine.

And her face?

A flushed, euphoric mess of a bitch in heat.

"More! Use me like a mortal slut! Break my meridians with that evil dragon—!"

Shi Tian—Su Xiaobai, behind those half-lidded golden irises, didn't even bother removing his robes. They just pooled at his ankles, as if out of pity. He stood tall, grinding into her like a demon refining a rebellious ore into spiritual essence.

"Tch. You talk more filth than a Pig Spirit brothel apprentice."

"THAT'S RIGHT!!" Wen Luli howled, slapping her own breasts with righteous, "I'll bark, I'll beg—fuck me until I reverse-cultivate into a chamber maid! Make me your dog bitch, just let me live!"

She wasn't pretending anymore.

This wasn't cultivation.

This was the surrender of a bitch in heat.

"Use my womb like a furnace!" she moaned, cupping her breasts and offering her wet valley like an altar of Yin.

"Stuff your Yang Pill inside, let it erupt, I'll refine it, I'll treasure it, I'll birth it if Heaven allows—Aaaah!"

Su Yiran, still cloaked under her alias Ranran, stood frozen behind the trees, hand trembling, face red as ripe peach wine fermenting in a sunken cave.

Her breath rushed.

Not from modesty.

But from pure, Dao-defying confusion.

Is… this how women survive now?

Turning into dual-cultivation dolls just to avoid death?!

No wonder Wen Luli's been quiet all day… She was planning a full salvation-through-seduction arc!

Disappointment swirled in her chest like bitter tea.

And yet…

Her eyes didn't blink.

Her lips didn't close.

Her heart pounded with treacherous rhythm.

She couldn't look away.

Right as Su Yiran closed her eyes to calm her Dao-heart, to focus on clarity and detachment…

"FUCK ME HARDER! I WANNA SEE HEAVEN!!"

"MY MIND IS COLLAPSING—MAKE ME YOUR MOUNT BEAST—!"

Pakh! Pakh! Pakh!

The sounds of cultivation had resumed. No, not cultivation—this was carnal tribulation disguised as spiritual breakthrough.

Su Yiran's eyes snapped open.

What she saw shattered her mental formation.

Shi Tian, naked from the waist up, his abs covered with sweat and dew, was moving with the precision of a blacksmith hammering a divine furnace. Bang! Bang! Bang! Each thrust was a blow, each groan a mantra of madness.

Wen Luli, meanwhile, was a lost scripture rewritten in lust.

Her limbs flailed. Her moans were battlefield cries.

"You insane beast!" Su Yiran whispered, eyes wide. "Stop cultivating her into a soulless gourd...!"