The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 170: Lady Ember Frost!

"First Liu Chenfu, now Huo Rong… Why are all these Peak Lords suddenly losing their shit over Su Xiaobai?!"

A lone voice spoke the words everyone was thinking.

And then—

Silence.

Disciples exchanged glances, their eyes flickering with realization.

Until—

A deep, lovestruck sigh shattered the moment.

"Charming…!"

Heads snapped toward the source.

A junior sister, her face flushed, clasped her hands like a maiden in a romance novel, her eyes practically forming heart-shaped talismans.

"It’s because Brother Su is just too heroic!"

The men in the crowd visibly choked.

"What—?! From which angle does he look like a hero?! That bastard’s a villa—"

"Heroic Brother Su!"

"HEROIC BROTHER SU!"

"HEROIC BROTHER SU!"

Before he could even finish, he was swarmed.

A horde of crazed junior sisters descended upon him like demonic beasts, their robes fluttering violently, fists pummeling down like divine tribulation lightning.

"How dare you slander Brother Su’s noble image?!"

"Are you blind?! His elegance, his ruthlessness, his devilish charm—truly the heart of a righteous hero!"

"A true dragon amidst worms!"

"If being a villain is what it takes to be this handsome, then what use is righteousness?!"

The poor bastard tried to crawl away, teeth missing, blood dribbling from his nose.

"You people are insane! I’m telling you, that man just crippled someone and robbed him mid-fight!"

The girls ignored him completely, their chants shaking the heavens.

Su Xiaobai—standing in the arena, fresh off his latest crime—

Smiled handsomely.

But inside?

Inside, he was utterly disgusted.

"So this is what Liu Zhenhai feels when Lan Meiyu is around…"

The same suffocating, brain-dead loyalty. The same fanaticism that defied reason itself.

He finally understood the look of sheer misery that had always been on Liu Zhenhai’s face.

Su Xiaobai exhaled deeply, his newly acquired gauntlets gleaming in the sunlight.

The men in the crowd looked on in horror.

The sect elders exchanged glances, shaking their heads.

And the Peak Lords?

They just watched, their faces filled with resignation.

Because overnight, Su Xiaobai had somehow gone from a ruthless villain—

To the sect’s most ’heroic’ figure.

And the worst part?

Not even Su Xiaobai himself believed it.

The fame came too fast. Too suffocating. Too fucking nauseating. Su Xiaobai had always imagined himself as a shadow leader, lurking behind the scenes, pulling strings in the dark—

Not this.

Not standing in broad daylight, being worshiped like some divine war god, with a horde of brain-poisoned junior sisters screaming his name like they just hit enlightenment through sheer thirst.

He sighed.

A long, deep sigh, filled with the exhaustion of a man who had seen too much, suffered too much, and just wanted to be left the fuck alone.

And then—

"HIS SIGH…!"

The voice that echoed through the silence was breathy, desperate—unhinged.

Heads snapped toward the source of this degeneracy.

A senior sister, her robes slightly disheveled, her thighs clenching so hard she was about to crack the earth itself.

"His sigh… is like the whisper of celestial winds caressing my soul…"

Her breath ragged, and her eyes rolled back slightly.

And then—

"If I could just… just drink his sigh directly from his lips…"

A pause.

A deep, trembling exhale.

"I could bathe in it for ten thousand years and never need to cultivate again…!"

"..."

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The entire sect froze.

The elders, hardened by centuries of battle, looked like they had just been struck by divine tribulation.

The Peak Lords, masters of their respective Daos, suddenly felt their cultivation stagnate from sheer secondhand embarrassment.

The men?

They stared at the girl like she had transcended into a new level of depravity unknown to mankind.

And then—

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"Hmph! What do you know?! He is not just Su Xiaobai anymore!"

"That’s right! Call him by his true name—"

"The Devilishly Handsome Blade!"

"The Celestial Tyrant of Love and War!"

"The Midnight Phantom of the Sword!"

"The Heart-Stealing Demon Lord!"

"The Cunning Fox of the Martial Dao!"

"The Peerless Dragon of Passion!"

"The Saintly Tyrant of Dual Cultivation!"

"THE UNTOUCHABLE SEX GOD OF THE XIANTIAN SECT!"

"...What the actual fuck."

A male disciple vomited blood on the spot.

Another just sat down and stared at the sky, his will to live gone.

One of the elders broke into a violent coughing fit.

Even Zhao Tianxuan, the Sect Master himself, twitched violently, as if considering whether being struck by heavenly lightning would be preferable to witnessing this bullshit.

The junior sisters, however, were unfazed.

In fact—they were fucking inspired.

A second girl stepped forward, her breathing erratic, pupils dilated.

"B-Brother Su… do you perhaps need a cauldron to help regulate your yang energy?"

"No! Pick me! I have a dual-cultivation physique that can refine impurities!"

"IMPURITIES MY ASS! YOU JUST WANT TO GET FUCKED!"

"Hmph. Junior sisters, stop being so impatient. True love must be cultivated over time."

"SAYS THE BITCH WHO HAS HIS SHRINE IN HER ROOM!"

The sect stands exploded into civil war.

Fists flew. Robes were torn. Hairpins became deadly hidden weapons.

The men?

They had given up.

One inner disciple turned to his friend, his eyes blank.

"Do you think if I start training in body refinement, I can turn myself into an actual rock?"

"What? Why?"

"Because rocks don’t have to hear this bullshit."

Even the elders, men who had lived for centuries, were staring dead-eyed into the distance, their souls shattered beyond repair.

And Su Xiaobai?

Su Xiaobai just stood there.

Motionless.

Expressionless.

Emotionally dead inside.

"Do you like them? Aren’t they quite charming?"

A voice, smooth as spring water yet tinged with teasing amusement, drifted through the battlefield. A graceful figure strode forward, each step slow, deliberate—the gait of someone who already knew how this match would end.

Huo Lingxue.

Dark red hair cascaded like molten jade, crystalline eyes framed by lashes that trembled as she studied him. A woman who had seen too many battles, grown too weary of arrogant men who thought they stood above the heavens. Her charming face, aristocratic nose, and soft peach-blossom lips carried an expression between amusement and condescension.

Yet beneath that elegance, beneath the carefully crafted veneer of indifference—

Something dangerous lurked.

The aura around her wavered with frost and embers. In her delicate hand rested the Frozen Ember Fan, its ethereal glow betraying the chaos within her physique—the war of winter and inferno that no ordinary weapon could endure.

So she made one that could.

And Su Xiaobai?

His sixth sense—honed through countless schemes and brushes with death—screamed.

This woman was trouble.

Big.

Fucking.

Trouble.

Still, his smirk remained roguish, though inwardly, he was already weeping blood.

"Charming, very charming." His chuckle was dry, the kind only a man walking to his own execution could muster.

Huo Lingxue’s lips curved slightly. "Summon your puppet." She spoke as if ordering tea. "Aren’t you a puppet master? You’ll need her—unless, of course, you plan to spend the rest of your days lying in bed, unable to move, relying on kind-hearted sisters to feed and bathe you."

Su Xiaobai’s brow twitched.

Oh.

Oh, this bitch.

She was playing dirty.

But he wasn’t stupid.

Xiao Hei was off-limits. Summoning her now would invite questions—questions that could destroy everything.

His smirk widened, lazy yet sharp. "I don’t need a puppet to defeat you. I alone am enough."

Then—

BOOM.

An immense aura crashed down, shaking the battlefield.

Huo Lingxue’s smile froze.

Su Xiaobai’s sword aura surged, pressing upon her like a celestial mountain, the air vibrating with suppressed violence.

It wasn’t an attack.

It was a proclamation.

A whisper to the world—

Before this blade, all must kneel.

Her eyes widened, the composure cracking just enough for a flicker of surprise.

"So that’s how you overpowered Yan Wushang…"

A chuckle—soft, bitter.

She had wondered—how did he knock out Yan Wushang in a single blow, even with stolen gauntlets?

Now she knew.

It wasn’t power.

It was suppression.

An invisible chain, growing heavier with each breath, robbing strength, speed, will—until collapse was inevitable.

Then—

"Yin-Yang Flame Suppression..."

BOOM!

Twin forces erupted, colliding like warring gods.

A pillar of fire roared skyward, twisting into a blazing dragon, the heat distorting reality itself.

A pillar of ice surged forth, coiling like a divine serpent, freezing space into an abyss of absolute zero.

The battlefield screamed, caught in a storm of elements that should not coexist—yet did.

And then—

It spread.

A shockwave rippled outward, devouring the battlefield. Even those watching from above felt their breath cold.

And at the center—Huo Lingxue stood, untouched, her fan flicking open as if she had stirred a gentle breeze—not birthed a frozen inferno.

What made it terrifying?

It had neutralized Su Xiaobai’s sword aura.

Not by overpowering it.

By devouring it. Matching it. Making it useless within her range.

Then, the whispers started.

"Brother Su, be careful! That woman isn’t as easy as she looks!"

"Even Senior Brother Chi Fanglin and Brother Yun are weaker than her! She was supposed to be #2 in the rankings, but she stopped fighting after losing to the Celestial Peak Lord’s disciple! Her ego must still be bruised!"

"..."

"..."

Huo Lingxue’s brows twitched.

Her grip on her fan tightened.

Then—she smiled.

The kind of smile that preceded genocides.

"Whose ego is bruised?"

Her voice was too calm.

With a flick, she snapped her fan shut—

CRACK.

"If you’re so powerful, go fight her yourself. Let’s see how long before you piss yourself."

The disciples who had so helpfully dug up her past?

Silent.

Su Xiaobai?

Too busy staring at the Celestial Peak Lord’s balcony.

Behind her—a shadow stood.

Unmoving.

Uninterested.

But watching.

Chi Fanglin—#3 in the rankings—said nothing.

Brother Yun—#2—also stayed silent.

Because they knew.

If Huo Lingxue fought them—

Their chances were slim.

And this fight?

Wouldn’t be simple.