Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 34: Opening

At the very back of the gathered crowd, veiled by the shadows of the floating Profound Arks and the dust of the landing craters, Yun Li watched the display of dominance with a curling lip of pure disdain.

To him, the scene at the center of the clearing was a farce—a grotesque theater of entitlement.

These people, these "geniuses" and "royals," all relied on the silver spoons they were born with and the centuries of history backing their names.

They acted as though the world were their personal footstool simply because they had been breathing spirit-qi longer than most.

If I, Yun Li, had cultivated for as long as these fossils, I would have already stepped into the Saint Realm, he thought, his jaw tightening.

He looked at his own hands, feeling the turbulent, potent power of the Falling Immortal Sutra thrumming beneath his skin.

In just a single year, he had catapulted from the absolute dregs of the Qi Gathering stage to the very pinnacle of the Foundation Establishment realm.

To his knowledge, such a feat was unprecedented.

So in his mind, he wasn’t just talented; he was the center of the universe, a transmigrator destined to rewrite the laws of this reality.

"Oh my, you seem to have no good feelings about them, Mr. Yun Li."

The voice was like a soothing breeze on a sweltering day, smooth and melodic.

Yun Li turned, his defensive posture melting instantly into a bright, polished smile.

Luo Mingye was walking toward him with the grace of a celestial nymph, her long, emerald hair fluttered in the mountain wind, and her green eyes held a gentle, knowing light.

Yun Li had to admit, even the most legendary beauties of his past life—the idols, the models, the actresses who graced the screens of Blue Star—were like common weeds compared to the radiant flower standing before him.

The moment he had first laid eyes on her, his breath had hitched, and he had decided then and there: this woman was a prize fit only for a King, and he was the only one worthy of the title.

Even if it meant offending the Crown Prince of Blue Wind, he would claim her.

"Miss Luo," Yun Li said, his tone softening into a charming register.

"You are certainly talented, Mr. Yun Li," Mingye said, coming to a halt beside him and turning her gaze toward the golden throne. "But I must advise you... do not let your pride lead you to offend that young master sitting over there. Some fires cannot be extinguished."

Yun Li’s smile faltered slightly, replaced by a flash of irritation he worked hard to hide. "Does Miss Luo know him? He seems... quite fond of himself."

In truth, Yun Li had never taken anyone in this world seriously, after all was the "Chosen One", so why should he feel a shred of inferiority toward these "natives"?

With his Falling Immortal Sutra as his golden finger, he believed it was only a matter of time before he suppressed everyone under the heavens.

"He is the Heir to the Shen Immortal Clan," Mingye said, her voice dropping into a tone of genuine reverence. "Hailed as the most talented youth in the entire Empire. Yun Li, you must understand... if you truly offend him, forget about the Yun Clan, even if the Imperial Family themselves were to intervene, they would not be able to shield you from the Shen Clan’s reach."

Mingye knew the weight of the name Shen Haoran intimately...well, not that intimate, but that’s besides the point.

You see, although her grandfather wasn’t known for his peerless, he was at least celebrated as the greatest Zither Cultivator in the Empire, a genuine Earthly Saint whose music could even unite heaven and earth.

When Shen Haoran had celebrated his sixteenth birthday, the invitation list had been a roll-call of the god, and her grandfather had been personally invited to play the music, and she had accompanied him to the Imperial Capital.

She still remembered the brief moment of meeting him—the cold, divine aura he radiated, and the honor of shaking his hand he praised her grandfather for his skills.

In fact, back then, she wanted to be a Sword Cultivator, and she was even known as a tomboy with swords for brains, but when that young man praised her grandfather’s skills, she had decided to practice the zither.

She didn’t know if he would remember a face from years ago, especially since she look different as back then she had shorter hair and wore male clothes, but she certainly remembered him.

Yun Li stared at Luo Mingye, his stomach churning with an unfamiliar, bitter bile.

He saw the way her eyes sparkled as she looked toward the throne, a look of euphoric, idol-worshipping joy. It was the look a fan gave to a legend.

He felt his head turning a little grin as the woman he had marked as his own was looking at another man with the very admiration he craved for himself.

And at that moment, a cold, sharp hatred for Shen Haoran began to take root in his heart.

"What about it?" Yun Li whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed envy. "If I had his background—the resources of an Immortal Clan, the best pills, the finest teachers—I would be even better than he is."

Mingye heard him, but she didn’t offer a rebuttal. She simply turned her eyes back to the throne, a faint, disappointed sigh escaping her lips.

To her, feeling envy or dissatisfaction toward those far superior was a common human failing.

But to vocalize it so petulantly was an admission of defeat.

By claiming he only lacked the background, Yun Li was subconsciously admitting that he felt inferior to the man in the golden throne.

She had thought Yun Li was interesting, perhaps even special with his strange, novel ideas and his rapid growth.

But as she watched him seethe in the shadow of a true dragon, she realized he was just a big fish in a small pond—angry at the sky for being out of reach.

Just then, the heavy silence of the mountain pass was suddenly shattered by a violent tremor of spiritual energy.

An old man, his aura vibrating with the unmistakable, profound depth of the Nirvana Rebirth Realm, materialized from the crowd.

He did not land with a flourish; instead, he immediately dropped to his knees before the golden throne, his forehead nearly touching the rubble.

"Young Master Shen!" the old man cried, his voice thick with desperation. "Our Crown Prince has eyes but could not see Mount Tai. He is a fool who knows nothing of the immensity of the heavens and the earth. I beg you, please... spare his life!"

Haoran stared down at the elder, his expression as unmoving as a statue’s as the golden Qi around his foot flickered before he slowly retracted his leg from Jin Pei’s head.

"Spare him?" Haoran’s voice was a low, like a chilling melody. "You need not worry. I was not planning on killing him. Crushing a gnat is hardly worth the effort of cleaning my boots."

Jin Pei finally felt the crushing gravitational pressure lift as he immediately gasped for air, his lungs burning and his face smeared with dirt and shame, yet he remained pinned to the ground by his own fear.

In that moment, he made a silent, soul-deep vow: he would memorize the face of every high-tier entity in the Empire.

He would never again "court death" by mistaking a dragon for a lizard.

"Thank you, Young Master! Your mercy is as vast as the sea!" The elder didn’t wait for a second thought.

He scooped up the battered Jin Pei and, bowing repeatedly as he backed away, vanished into the ranks of the Sun Bird Kingdom’s ark.

With that incident settled, the clearing fell into a tomb-like stillness.

No one dared to speak, and no one even dared to breathe loudly as all eyes were glued to the massive stone gates.

Suddenly, a pulse of silver light burst from the runes—a shockwave so powerful it sent a ripple through the local space-time fabric.

The gates groaned, the ancient moss cracking as they began to pivot inward as the air was instantly flooded with a scent like cold ozone and ancient incense.

It was a sign that, finally, the inheritance was open.

They held their breath, staring at the place that hold the chance for them to become supreme, but the silence was broken by a chorus of greedy, hysterical laughter.

"Hahahaha! The Supreme Inheritance is mine!"

"Move aside! I am the Clan Master of the Peng Clan, none shall block my path!"

"Who cares about your clan!? Is it any better than me!?"

Dozens of hidden experts—Spirit Ascension masters and even a few Nirvana Rebirth rogue cultivators who had been lurking in the shadows—erupted from their hiding spots.

They shot toward the silver light like starving vultures.

However, as the first expert struck the threshold, he didn’t pass through, but slammed into an invisible, silver barrier with a sickening thud.

One by one, the older experts were repelled, thrown back by a force that felt like a mountain’s rebuke.

"What is happening?!"

"No! My Supreme Inheritance! Heavens, why do you torment me so?!"

Everyone stared in shock at what had just happened.

But at that moment, several giant, glowing characters of silver light manifested in the air above the portal:

[NONE ABOVE THE AGE OF FIFTY MAY PASS.]

A roar of indignation rose from the elders.

"Why is this?! A legacy should belong to the strong, not children!"

"My lifespan is at its end! I need this breakthrough! The heavens are unfair!"

Watching the chaotic commotion, Haoran felt a wave of boredom as he stood up from his golden throne, and with a casual wave of his hand, the magnificent chair vanished back into his spatial ring.

He looked at the screaming, desperate old men with nothing but pity.

"Let’s go," Haoran said to Xueli.

"Hm," Xueli nodded obediently, her heart hammering as she stepped into line beside him.

She felt the weight of hundreds of envious, hateful eyes on her back, but the presence of the man beside her felt like an impenetrable fortress.

They walked toward the gate, but their path was suddenly blocked by a desperate Nirvana Rebirth rogue cultivator, his skin wrinkled like parchment and his eyes bloodshot with the madness of a dying man, stood before the portal.

He flared his aura, the space around him warping with the heat of his dying spirit.

"I don’t care what your background is!" the old man shrieked, his voice cracking. "But if you don’t swear on your soul that you will give me a share of the inheritance, I will stop anyone from entering! I have nothing left to lose!"

Haoran and Xueli didn’t even slow down, they continued walking as if the path were empty.

"Didn’t you hear me?! I said—AAAAHHH!"

The old man’s threat was cut short by a sound like a wet cloth being wrung out.

Beneath his feet, his own shadow suddenly detached from the ground. It rose like a living, liquid void, acting as a miniature black hole.

The rogue cultivator was sucked inward, his bones snapping and his muscles being ground into a horrific mush of flesh and blood.

His blood-curdling scream echoed through the mountain pass before he was completely consumed, leaving not even a drop of gore behind.

The other elders, who had been preparing to join the blockade, froze in their tracks, and their greed was instantly doused by a bucket of ice-cold terror.

They could only stand in paralyzed silence, watching as the golden-haired youth and the girl in the blue dress stepped through the silver veil and vanished into the tomb of the Bright Silver Emperor.