NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!

The gardens were quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that came after the storm, not before — as if the earth itself held its breath.

Cherry blossoms drifted through the evening air, landing gently on the stones beneath the lantern light. The koi pond shimmered silver under the moon, undisturbed save for the occasional flick of a tail beneath the surface.

And in the heart of the garden—

Zhao Yuran found her.

Xue Lian.

The Northern Blade.

The one who danced beside Hei Long in a way Yuran never had — and perhaps never would.

Xue Lian stood barefoot in the grass, her ash-gray robes rippling in the breeze. A simple hair ribbon tied her dark hair back. No ornaments. No illusion.

Just presence.

Yuran approached slowly, deliberate heels echoing across the stone path.

"Couldn't sleep?" she said flatly.

Xue Lian didn't turn around.

"I don't sleep much anymore," she replied. "Memories don't allow it."

"Memories," Yuran repeated, tone unreadable. "Is that all Hei Long is to you?"

Xue Lian finally turned — slowly, deliberately — and met her gaze.

"He was never just that."

The Distance Between Them Was Five Steps

Not enough for a duel.

But just enough for a conversation where every word could be a weapon.

Zhao Yuran folded her arms.

"You walked in like you already belonged."

"I did belong," Xue Lian said simply. "Before any of you."

"And now?"

"I'm here," she said, "because he let me be."

Yuran's eyes narrowed.

"That's not love. That's mercy."

Xue Lian didn't flinch.

"You think love is what you have?"

Yuran took a step forward.

"I stood beside him at the banquet. I was his chosen."

Xue Lian stepped forward too.

"He let you stand there. I never needed permission."

Tension Coiled Like a Drawn Bow

Blossoms scattered around them, catching in their hair.

Neither raised their voice.

Neither moved for a blade.

But the words sharpened all the same.

"You don't understand him," Yuran said, voice like ice. "You understand who he used to be."

"And you?" Xue Lian asked. "Do you even understand yourself?"

That landed.

Yuran's fingers twitched at her side.

"You think you've won," she hissed. "But the truth is, you're just another loose end. A relic. He'll shelf you like all the others."

"And what will you be?" Xue Lian said softly. "The prize wife of a man who never looks back at you?"

Yuran's jaw clenched.

For one dangerous moment—

The entire garden held still.

Then the Wind Shifted

A branch cracked in the distance.

The koi rippled.

And both girls breathed again.

Just barely.

Xue Lian Turned Away First

But her final words drifted over her shoulder like a curse:

"If you want to stand beside him, Yuran… you'd better stop looking at the others."

"Because it's not us you're competing with."

"It's the version of yourself he hasn't met yet."

She vanished into the trees.

Leaving behind only the scent of steel and blooming flowers.

Yuran Remained

Alone now.

With a dozen comebacks that came too late.

With a dozen doubts she'd never dared to voice aloud.

She stared at her reflection in the koi pond.

The petals floating across it distorted her face.

She looked…

ordinary.

Meanwhile – Hei Long's Pavilion Balcony

He watched them both.

From the shadows.

Expression calm.

Eyes unreadable.

He made no move to interfere.

Because this was not a battle he needed to fight.

This was pruning.

Only the strongest roses survived winter.

. . . . . .

In the heart of the Imperial Capital, buried beneath a cliffside veiled by illusion, the entrance to the Moonlight Trial revealed itself only once every seven years — and only when summoned by a cultivator chosen by the Empress or her direct envoy.

This year, it had opened for Hei Long.

But he would not enter.

He would only name the pair.

And let the world watch what came out.

At the Gate of Silver Flame

Two women stood before the trial's threshold:

Leng Qingxue, dressed in white with no embellishments, her blade wrapped in prayer cloth, her gaze sharp and distant.

Mu Yexin, robes of iridescent silk layered over black, her fan tucked into her sash like a concealed dagger, a smile that dared the darkness to flirt with her.

They were rivals.

They were reflections.

They were both chosen by Hei Long.

And only one would emerge with the Moon Token — a crystallized artifact forged from condensed spiritual moonlight, granting a permanent boost to comprehension, clarity, and qi refinement speed. But more importantly?

It was the symbol of ascension.

Whoever brought it back… would be his next cultivation partner.

Hei Long Spoke Once

Standing atop the overlooking platform, arms folded, robes rustling like thunderclouds.

"Only one may return with the token," he said. "But both must enter together."

He didn't smile.

He didn't warn.

He simply turned away as the doors opened.

And the women stepped through.

The Moonlight Trial – First Layer: The Garden of Secrets

They stood in a valley of pale flowers.

Each bloom pulsed softly with light — moonblossoms, said to mirror the thoughts of whoever walked through them.

Mu Yexin went still.

Because the flowers around her flickered with Hei Long's face.

Dozens of versions. Different expressions. Cold. Amused. Angry. Tender.

All illusions. All truths.

Leng Qingxue walked ahead silently.

The flowers near her didn't show faces.

They showed swords.

Broken ones.

Bloodstained.

One… was her own.

Mu Yexin finally caught up.

"Tell me," she said quietly, "do you actually love him?"

"No."

Qingxue's tone was flat.

"I respect him. I follow him. That's enough."

Yexin raised a brow.

"And you think that makes you worthy?"

"I don't care about worth," Qingxue replied, unsheathing her blade. "I care about being undeniable."

Second Layer: The Maze of Echoes

They separated.

Not by choice — the path twisted them apart, and suddenly both were running through mirrored corridors where every reflection whispered in their own voice.

"He kissed her."

"He chose her for the banquet."

"You're just another weapon."

"He never even asked your name the first time."

Qingxue pressed forward through the voices.

Cutting the mirrors one by one.

Until only silence remained.

Yexin paused.

Looked at a reflection of herself crying.

Then smirked.

And made it smile back.

Third Layer: The Arena of One

The final trial.

A circular platform beneath a full illusion-moon.

A single Moon Token hovered at the center, spinning slowly like a falling star.

Both women stepped into the ring at the same time.

They didn't speak.

They already knew.

There could only be one.

The Duel

Yexin struck first — her illusions sharp, deadly, made real by layers of spiritual constructs.

Qingxue didn't dodge.

She cut through them.

Again. And again.

Blade versus phantom.

Resolve versus desire.

It wasn't flashy.

It wasn't elegant.

It was personal.

"Why do you stay near him?" Yexin shouted, panting, blood at her lip. "He'll never be yours."

"He doesn't need to be," Qingxue said calmly.

Then moved.

Faster than Yexin could process.

Blade to throat.

A pause.

"I don't want him," Qingxue said. "I want to be chosen. Not by love."

She looked up at the spinning Moon Token.

"But by power."

Then struck the ground with the flat of her sword.

A ring of force exploded outward.

Yexin collapsed, unconscious.

The token fell into Qingxue's hand.

Outside the Trial – One Hour Later

The stone doors opened.

Hei Long stood alone.

No smile.

Just certainty.

Qingxue walked out.

Bleeding from her temple.

Eyes cold.

Token in hand.

He didn't ask what happened.

She didn't offer.

He extended his hand.

She placed the token in his palm.

And for a moment—

Their fingers brushed.

She looked at him.

"I won."

He nodded.

"You did."

Behind Them, In the Shadows

Mu Yexin awoke inside the trial chamber.

Alone.

Broken illusions around her like shattered mirrors.

She looked up.

And whispered:

"…next time."