The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

Back in the forest.

"Ahn… aah… haa…"

Each moan echoed from Wen Luli's throat like windchimes caught in a storm, delicate, trembling, shattering in rhythm.

Pakh! Pakh! Pakh!

Her naked body rocked atop his, soaked in sweat, love juices, and a desperate pace that had long since abandoned any pretense of dignity. Every thrust drove her downward, deeper into the mire of surrender.

Her jade tits bounced violently under the moonlight, their cherry nipples stiff, wet from the friction of sweat, saliva.

Moonlight kissed her sacred valley, pussy drooling, clenching tight around the Yang pillar hammering into her. Her inner furnace writhed and burned hottor, desperate to melt into that heavenly rod, as if salvation could be found on its tip.

Above them, fireflies drifted lazily like idle spirit wisps. One fluttered down, landed gently on her trembling nipple.

Smack—!

"I don't like observers," Su Xiaobai muttered, flicking it off without a glance.

The forest around them was quiet. Trees stood like silent elders watching from the dark.

His hands gripped her wide hips, not with passion, but a precise, detached grip.

Like a blacksmith hammering his least favorite sword.

Wen Luli moaned again. Her voice cracked like an old flute. "S-So good… just a little more… I—I'll reach Core Blooming—!"

And then, the shift.

She felt it.

A sudden drop in temperature.

A crawl of dread.

Her voice froze. Her pussy clenched wrong. Her spiritual energy, once coiling with joy, stuttered and fell, like a flame suffocating in smoke.

Something's wrong.

Clarity returned to her eyes.

Sticky thighs shook, her body trembled.

She tried to stop.

She couldn't.

"W-Wait… I can't feel… my legs—!"

She looked down—and panic turned into terror.

Su Xiaobai hadn't stopped.

His thrusts remained calm, rhythmic, horrifyingly perfect.

Unmoved, uncaring.

Unholy.

"N-Not now! I—I want to stop!" she whimpered.

She tried to pull away, but his hand slid up her spine, smooth as oil, and gently held her shoulder.

"You said you'd be my dog-bitch," he murmured. "Dogs don't walk away mid-fuck."

"...!"

Wen Luli's soul spasmed.

Then she saw it.

The energy.

A pale white mist, her Yin essence, began leaking out from her lower belly, winding through her womb like smoke through silk. Her spiritual core trembled as threads of Yin were pulled out, strand by strand, like her soul was being combed apart.

The mist spiraled downward, pooling at her pussy before being sucked into Su Xiaobai's dick—no, not just his dick.

His entire meridian network pulsed like a black lotus in bloom.

The Yin traveled into his dantian, a whirlpool of blazing-red flames at his core, where the mist was burned, distilled, purified.

A woman's essence turned fuel.

The flames didn't roar, they hummed, cold, demonic, efficient.

But it wasn't enough.

The Yin barely tickled his cultivation. It was like throwing a dumpling into a volcano, burnt, tasty, but fleeting.

Still… a nice dessert.

Su Xiaobai's dick twitched slightly.

She felt it.

So did her soul.

He wasn't fucking her.

He was refining her... Like a cauldron.

Her Yin flowed through his veins like moonlight tainted with sin, briefly enhancing the glow of his skin, his nails, even his eyes, gleaming like an abyss that had learned to smile.

He was built for this.

A monster of a man, with Yin-devouring veins, crafted not to balance the Dao, but to mock it.

All the women he'd slept with before had been too strong, too aware.

But Wen Luli?

This docile flower?

She was the perfect Yin-cone sacrifice test subject, juicy, ripe, clueless.

Her spiritual core kept trying to push back.

It failed.

She felt it, her realm rapidly descending.

This wasn't cultivation.

This was cultivation rape.

A dual cultivation, where only one side grew stronger.

She whimpered, "...my core… it's breaking… I—I'm gonna collapse…"

Su Xiaobai sighed like a man bored of his meal.

"You're so noisy," he muttered. "Didn't you beg me to use you like a furnace?"

His pace quickened, not for lust, but for harvest.

A butcher in heat.

Tears spilled down Wen Luli's face, but her hips still moved. She couldn't stop. Her body had surrendered the moment his rod entered, now it was too late.

It felt like her own core was devouring her from the inside.

Her pussy spasmed again, the inner folds clinging around his Yang pillar like starving beasts, pulling him in deeper with every violent thrust.

"Please… I didn't mean it… Let me goI don't want to die with your seed inside me!"

"Then don't die," he replied, utterly deadpan, like it wasn't his dick sucking the life from her soul.

Crack.

A sharp noise, like glass breaking underwater.

Her dantian split open like an overripe fruit.

Her spiritual energy—gone.

Her meridians? Collapsing one by one.

What was once Wen Luli, the Iron Lotus prodigy, the bitch with a cultivation plan, was now a collapsing bag of Yin-flavored tofu.

Her body began decaying.

Her supple skin turned from porcelain to pale clay. The red blush drained from her cheeks and tits, nipples shriveling like salted slugs.

Her thighs thinned.

Her breasts sank.

Hair once luscious now stuck to her face like greasy moss, graying in clumps, falling onto Su Xiaobai's chest like dead spiders.

He stared down at her.

"From jade beauty to expired vegetable... impressive speed."

"No… no no… I didn't want this…" she sobbed. "I wanted to grow old in peace… teach orphans swordplay…"

"Huh?" Su Xiaobai blinked.

This one? With orphans?*l Must be delusional. He had those moments too. Usually after spicy noodles.

Then he remembered—Iron Lotus Sect.

They didn't keep armies, they raised them.

Adopted orphans. Fed them iron techniques with their rice and trauma. Loyalty through scars.

For Wen Luli to stay in the sect… she had to raise others.

A cold inheritance.

Cyclical trauma bonds disguised as cultivation lineage.

"I never even kissed someone properly—!"

"I was just scared… scared of being alone…"

Her hands gripped his shoulders, not to ride, not to resist, but to vent.

"I was saving myself… for someone who loved me…"

And then, her voice cracked.

A primal shriek ripped from her lungs.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE A WHORE!!"

Su Xiaobai blinked.

"…Well. That ship's gone and sunk, sweetheart."

Then.

She lunged. "AHHHHH..."

Her hands gripped his throat, wild eyes locked on him, as if sheer regret could crush his windpipe.

Her strength returned for a moment, madness-fueled, desperate.

But it was laughable.

He had already activated Invincible Domain – Seconds of Godhood. For those three seconds, even Heaven's wrath would bounce off like dried cum on a turtle shell.

"You should've said that before begging to be my spiritual cumdump," he muttered, ignoring her banshee-like death scream and hollow eyes.

Time was ticking.

One second left.

His hand moved.

Whoosh.

Gu Ren, his demonic blade, slid into existence, vibrating with dark joy.

With a single flick, it sliced through flesh.

SPLORCH!!

Not slash.

Not cut.

Splorch.

Like meat slapped into a fruit blender.

Her body split from the waist up.

A wet explosion of tissue and bone erupted mid-ride, ribs cracked open like crab shells, guts flung like red noodles, one of her lungs flopped out and slapped against his chest with a — plop.

Blood sprayed in arcs, beautiful, symmetrical, almost artistic, as her torso cracked backward, and her upper half evaporated into fine silver ash.

Her lower half remained, impaled on his cock, twitching, splurting blood.

Loose intestines spilled out from the stump, still warm, still leaking Yin essence, blood, and crushed dreams.

A small fart escaped her corpse.

He blinked.

"…Smelly."

Bang!

He stood.

Kicked the twitching pelvis off his lap like a used tissue.

Exhaled.

Looked down at his cock, soaked in red, bits of internal matter clinging like regret.

"She said, 'split me open like Mu Tianlei.'"

He scratched his head.

"Well… request granted."