The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 272: The Moans That Shattered Samsara!

"You insane beast!"

"Stop cultivating her into a soulless gourd...!"

How could one man be a slaughter demon by day and cunt-shattering beast of the night? Did the Heavens approve of such duality? Was this man refining Yin cores or destroying world orders?

Below, Shi Tian gripped Wen Luli's wrists and wrenched them above her head, pinning her like a sacrificial disciple offered at the altar of depravity.

He leaned close, lips brushing her ear like a devil reading vows.

"This doesn't earn you freedom, you know," he murmured. "It earns you a spot in my Night Harem Scroll. Temporary page."

Wen Luli moaned, cried, nodded, her whole body trembling like a bell.

"P-Please! Put me on the cover!!"

Su Xiaobai blinked once. 'This girl... is no longer savable.'

"And to think you lectured me about morality not an hour ago…" he sighed, delivering a slap to her round, bouncing rear.

Pah! The slap echoed like thunder striking two perfect melons.

"That was the old me!" she gasped. "This is diplomacy! Take it as tribute!"

Inside, her thoughts spiraled into shameful prayer:

'Please let me live… just live…'

'Scream loud enough. Make him think you're useful.'

'Be the best whore in the valley, Wen Luli! This is your Dao path now—breakthrough by backblows!'

She had been bathing when he appeared, emerging like a devil out of fog.

She could've screamed. Could've run.

Instead?

She offered herself.

Because after today, after seeing him tear through S-rank heirs like leaves in the wind, what was she?

A bug?

A toy?

A temporary offering with tits?

Su Xiaobai saw it all.

Read her like a soul lamp.

And did he stop?

No.

He fucked her harder.

"Fine. You want a path forward?" he roared. "Here—channel your Qi into that tongue. Show me you can polish a rod like a true alchemist."

Wen Luli dropped to her knees like a falling star, bruised legs shaking as she bowed before the divine spear, ten inches of soaked, Yang weapon, dripping with her own dew.

"Yes, master! This shameless slut is ready to refine your Heaven-Eating Spear—!"

Her tongue lolled out like a bitch in heat, mouth wide and drooling, breath ragged like a starving mutt. She didn't even spit, just stared at his throbbing yang like it was the last treasure left in the world.

Behind the bushes, Su Yiran nearly ruptured a vein.

'What in the name of heavens… am I hearing?'

Both she and Shi Tian thought the same phrase at the same time, though for entirely different reasons.

Su Yiran, no stranger to the affairs of men and women, was still wholly unprepared for this.

This was no ordinary dual-cultivation.

"I'd rather face a lightning tribulation…" she muttered, turning away, than witness that again.

But behind her, the cries only grew more ridiculous.

"AHH~! MY CORE IS SHATTERING!"

"TURN ME INTO A CAULDRON E!"

"SLAP ME LIKE I'M A TRAITOR!"

"BREED ME LIKE A BLAZING FURNACE!"

"MELT MY QI CORE, YOU DOG BASTARD—AAAH!"

"DON'T STOP UNTIL MY SECT'S ANCESTORS DISOWN ME!!"

Su Yiran ran... Away... Faster.

Then stopped.

Then trembled.

Her hands shook, her cheeks burned.

Why were they screaming so loud?

Why was her heart pounding like a captured spirit drum?

Why did she glance back?

And when she did… she saw it:

Shi Tian's massive Yang rod, sliding in and out of Wen Luli's throat like a sacred ritual gone terribly, terribly off-script.

Her face, stuffed full.

Her tears, streaming.

Shi Tian's sigh peaceful, like a man watching sunrise atop a snowy peak.

Su Yiran shivered, not from fear. From… something she refused to accept.

Then her eyes narrowed.

Her breath steadied.

Her voice, barely a whisper, laced with cold bitterness:

"So this is the man who speaks of poetry, virtue… and 'taste in ugliness'…"

She looked back once more, lips curled in subtle disgust… or envy.

"…and now he's ripping a girl's throat apart under a moonbeam."

She turned away for good this time.

Her last words were lost to the cold night wind:

"All men… are the same."

She spat—not out of rage.

But out of something far worse.

Disappointment.

The kind that made even the stars above feel like liars, cold, glittering ornaments pretending to guide when they only watched.

For a fleeting moment, she had believed his words. That when he spoke of beauty, of the spirit, of hidden strength, he had seen something in her... that perhaps, behind his blood-soaked smile and those absurd words, there was... sincerity.

But no.

He was simply a different breed of beast.

One who didn't care for faces, ugly or otherwise.

As long as the figure pleased him, he'd throw a spirit-cloth over your head and fuck your thoughts out, chanting poetry while shattering your will.

He had whispered to her at the stream… and she had almost believed it.

"Ugly? No. The mist hides the stars, not their worth."

She'd convinced herself it meant something.

Yet... He sweet-talked like a sage under moonlight, but behind the curtain? He was just another beast.

And worse?

He was good at it.

She stumbled slightly as she walked, her gait faltering, a shame she refused to acknowledge. She cursed beneath her breath, not just at Shi Tian, but at those two bitch-spirited moaners behind her for awakening primal desires she never asked to feel.

Her steps felt strange, off balance. Heat had gathered where none should exist... She cursed under her breath.

"Dog-pair of bitches…"

A new term for those two howling banshees behind her, who had unknowingly stirred her primal desires, desires she had long buried beneath layers of discipline and moonlit meditation.

Now she would have to cleanse her spirit the only way she knew how: by staring into the cold indifference of the moon and begging for mental clarity.

Despite her cold physique and temptress silhouette, Matriarch Su had imposed a rule of iron-blooded chastity. No scandal. No seduction. No warmth before marriage.

Even Su Yiran's younger brother, after their clan retreated to the Stormpeak Mountains, was punished time and time again, caught sneaking into brothels under fake names like "Jade Saber of Passion Peak."

She had dragged him home once, scolding him for dishonoring the Su name, as any proud elder sister would.

That was also, tragically, the first, and last, time Su Yiran had ever seen a man's thing. Just a brief, traumatizing flash before he vanished like a rogue raccoon.

After that, he got more creative about evading capture.

And now, years later, Su Yiran, unspoiled, untouched, undefeated, had been made to witness an act so depraved the heavens themselves might file a complaint.

She found herself seated on a cliff ledge, wind combing through her hair, eyes gazing at the black-stained sky. The stars above, so far, so cold, offered no answers.

But the images wouldn't leave.

Wen Luli. Bent. Screaming, slobbering on a cock like it was a sacred artifact.

Shi Tian. Unbothered, smiling faintly. As if ravaging someone's throat was no different than sipping tea.

She curled into herself, resting her forehead against her knees, eyes moist though no tears fell.

They say animals cry when helplessness overwhelms instinct. freёwebnoѵel.com

But are humans so different?

Tears only come when there's nothing else left to do. When there's no sword to swing. No technique to activate. When all one can do… is endure.

Right now, Su Yiran had no plan.

Just tangled thoughts. Scattered emotions.

Too much to feel.

Too little time to feel it.

And so she had done what so many do when drowning—clung to the first piece of driftwood that resembled hope.

That driftwood, unfortunately, was named Shi Tian.

And now?

Now she knew what driftwood did when set on fire.

"Foolish..."

"No one's coming to save me..."

"I must save myself."

She clenched her jaw, straightened her spine, and drew a long, slow breath.

But something within her… was lost.

She couldn't name it.

Couldn't describe it.

Just… gone.

When cultivators grow, they do so by sacrifice.

Some give blood, others give years.

But sometimes—growth demands the death of something within.

And tonight, within Su Yiran…

Something died.

Something tender.

Something fragile.

Something human.

And in its place, a cold layer of frost formed.

Not on her skin.

But on her heart.

Her eyes flickered open, wide and sharp.

Crack...!

A shiver ran through her.

"It broke…"

She gasped, sat upright. Her consciousness plunged inward, deep into her spirit sea.

____

In the vast inner world of her spirit sea, silence reigned.

There, floating in eternal stasis, hovered "nine" colossal locks, sculpted from ice and cosmic light, each the size of a mountain. They circled slowly, chained together in the shape of a crystalline heart, cold and beautiful, untouched for ages.

The technique she cultivated:"Frozen Samsara Scripture: Heaven-Stealing Heartlocks"

A forbidden scripture said to bind emotion, to freeze pain and seal away vulnerability. Only when each lock shattered would a true Dao Heart emerge, one that could echo with the cosmos, command destiny, and defy even reincarnation.

Su Yiran had never understood that.

Not really.

Until now.

The first three had shattered before memory.

The fourth? When she was sixteen, her first betrayal.

And now—

The fifth lock broke.

A resonance pulsed through her spirit sea. The fifth mountain-sized lock cracked, sending shards of ice Qi spiraling through her soul, like falling stars through a winter sky.

She gasped aloud on the cliff, tears freezing on her cheeks, and clutched her chest, not from pain, but from a deep, ancestral pressure.

The kind that came not from injury, but from awakening.

The fifth lock had shattered.

And with it, the silence of ages past stirred.

In her cultivation path—the "Frozen Samsara Scripture: Heaven-Stealing Heartlocks"—each lock broken was not just a release of power.

It was a key turned in the "vault of eternity".

Every lock allowed her to "borrow" strength from a past life.

Not memories.

Not thoughts.

Power.

Essence refined through lifetimes, distilled by suffering, sealed by the heavens themselves.

The more locks she broke, the deeper the echoes she could channel.

And now, with the fifth seal undone, a new gate opened.

The soul-fragments of her former selves surged beneath her skin like awakening dragons, their slumber interrupted by heartbreak.

Power rippled through her meridians, icy, fierce, she could feel them, warrior-queens, frost-demons, moonblade priestesses, all of them roaring silently behind her bones.

'With this lock shattered…

I can match my mother.'

Su Yiran could feel her breath at that level.

Temporarily, yes.

But temporary strength is still strength.

Even borrowed stars can burn.