Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 120: Settling Old Scores(2)

The quiet, rural atmosphere of a certain small mortal village was a stark contrast to the world of blood and lightning Shen Haoran had just departed.

Here, the air smelled of damp earth and blooming jasmine rather than blood and scorched flesh.

It was a place where time seemed to slow, far removed from the machinations of empires and the greed of cultivators.

In the center of a small, dusty clearing, Elder Ji, once a feared Heavenly Saint of the Golden Cloud Immortal Sect, sat on a weathered stone slab.

His eyes, though clouded by age and suppressed injuries, glowed with a faint, paternal warmth as he watched a group of a dozen village children.

They were lined up in uneven rows, their small faces set in masks of fierce concentration as they performed the foundational punches and kicks of the Golden Cloud’s martial arts.

Their movements were clumsy, lacking the refinement of true disciples, but there was a raw, honest energy in their efforts that made the old man feel a rare sense of satisfaction.

For a moment, he could almost forget the crucified elders and the burning libraries of his home.

Just then, the atmosphere shifted.

The chirping of the crickets ceased, and the very air seemed to thicken with a familiar, predatory weight.

Elder Ji’s eyes sharpened instantly, the dormant instincts of a Saint-level powerhouse screaming a warning as space itself rippled like a disturbed pond just beyond the treeline.

He felt a wave of helplessness wash over him, followed by a cold, leaden resignation.

’They found me.’

He turned to the children, forcing a calm, grandfatherly smile onto his face. "Alright, kids. That’s enough for today. Time to head home to your parents. This old grandpa isn’t as young as you healthy younglings anymore; I can feel my bones creaking. I need to sleep and rest."

"Eeehh? But Grandpa, we just started the ’Cloud-Piercing Strike’!" one boy complained, his wooden training sword held high.

"That’s right! We want to practice more! You promised to show us how to break a stone!" another piped up, supported by a chorus of youthful groans.

Elder Ji chuckled softly, though his heart was heavy. "Alright, alright, just practice in your own houses then. I still have some business to attend to. Go on now, before the sun sets completely."

Reluctantly, the children bowed to him and scampered off toward the village huts, their laughter echoing through the trees.

Elder Ji watched them go until the last small figure disappeared behind a thatched roof.

He then let out a long, weary sigh, his shoulders slumping as he now looked like a man who had finally accepted the inevitable end of his story.

"You can come out now," he said to the empty air.

In a shimmer of distorted light, Qing’er and Shen Haoran appeared ten paces away. Haoran was wearing a faint, mocking smile, his golden eyes scanning the humble surroundings with a look of mild amusement.

"Despite your damaged spirit and those lingering internal injuries, you still managed to detect our presence," Haoran noted, his voice smooth and melodic. "As expected of a former Heavenly Saint powerhouse. Your senses haven’t entirely rotted away in this dirt."

Elder Ji shook his head slowly. "Young master, you jest. This kind of thing is only possible since you didn’t deliberately hide your presence. Anyone with little ability can sense you approaching."

Haoran remained silent, simply staring at the old man.

The silence stretched, becoming oppressive, and yo Elder Ji, it felt as though his very soul were being weighed on a scale and found wanting.

Finally, the old man closed his eyes, his breathing shallow.

"I won’t fight back," he whispered. "I know the strength of the Shen Clan, and I know your own prowess has surpassed anything I can muster in this broken state. I will accept the young master’s judgment without a word of protest. However..."

He paused, his voice trembling with a sudden, desperate intensity. "Those kids... they are innocent. They know nothing of the High Heavens or the Golden Cloud. I swear to the heavens that I didn’t tell them about my past, or anything related to you, your mother, or your clan. I was merely teaching them to defend themselves from wild dogs. So, young master, I beg of you... please spare them. Let the grudge end with me."

There was a deep, agonizing silence for a few moments as the wind rustled the willow branches, the only sound in the clearing.

"Why should I?" Haoran asked finally.

Elder Ji flinched as if he had been struck, but he didn’t offer a logical argument; instead, he slipped off the stone slab and dropped to his knees in the dirt. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Then, with a heavy thud, he kowtowed, his forehead pressing into the earth. "I have nothing left to offer you, neither treasures, nor secrets, nothing but my sincerity. Young master, I am a dying man. The children are innocent. Spare the saplings, and pull the weed."

Shen Haoran stared down at the pathetic sight and let out a short, sharp chuckle. "Oh my, how the mighty have fallen. A Heavenly Saint powerhouse, a man who once stood above millions, actually groveling in the mud before me. Is this the dignity of the Golden Cloud Sect? What would your ancestors say if they knew about this?"

Elder Ji said nothing. He simply raised his head and slammed it back down onto the ground.

Then again.

And again.

He repeated the action with such frantic force that the skin of his forehead began to split, and crimson droplets began to stain the dry earth.

"Ah~," Haoran groaned, the amusement leaving his face, replaced by a look of profound boredom as he turned his gaze away, as if looking at the old man made him weary. "You’re not that interesting anymore. What’s the point of even killing someone like you? Someone who doesn’t even possess the will to resist? It’s like stepping on a dry twig. How boring."

He turned his back on the elder. "Qing’er, let’s go. We’re wasting daylight on a corpse that hasn’t realized it’s dead yet."

Elder Ji froze, his head still pressed against the dirt as he looked up in genuine shock, blood trickling down his nose. "You... You aren’t going to kill me?"

Haoran paused in his tracks, turning his head just enough to catch the elder in his peripheral vision. "Do you want to die so badly? Is the guilt of outliving your sect that heavy?"

Elder Ji shook his head, his confusion palpable. "It’s just... young master, aren’t you afraid? Aren’t you afraid that by sparing me, you are leaving a viper in the grass? I am still a Saint. I might recover. I might find a way to backstab you or plot against your clan in the future. Is your mercy not a weakness?"

Haoran smirked, a look of absolute, unshakeable arrogance flaring in his golden eyes. "So what if I spare you? In my mind, it’s the certainty in myself that allows me to possess that kind of mercy. My path is not one of fear, but of absolute dominance. There’s no wavering on that point. It’s fixed like the stars in the firmament. The fact is, I’m never going to be killed by the likes of you—not today, and not in ten thousand years! So remember this, old man: Mercy and compassion are virtues that only the truly strong are privileged to possess. And I... am strong."

Elder Ji was stunned into a profound silencebS he stared at the retreating back of the youth, realizing for the first time that the "Young Master" he feared was a being who had transcended the petty concerns of vengeance.

He bowed one last time, slamming his head into the ground in a final gesture of gratitude. "I thank the young master for his mercy! My life is yours!"

Haoran shook his head, already walking away.

He had no use for the life of a broken man.

"One more thing! Young master, I just remembered!" Elder Ji called out, his voice urgent.

Haoran stopped again, his brow furrowing in a localized expression of annoyance. "What is it this time? Are you trying to find a reason to make me change my mind?"

"No! It is a secret I discovered while searching for a place to hide," Elder Ji said, scrambling to his feet. "There is another Heavenly Saint powerhouse hiding in this lower realm. It’s not a person... it’s a Willow Tree! It hides in a village called Stone Village, and its power is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It is ancient, perhaps even older than the current epoch."

"Oh?" Now that caught Haoran’s interest. He turned around fully, his golden eyes narrowing.

If he remembered correctly, his aunt, Feng Yuyan, used to pout and complain during family banquets about how a particular Willow Tree had managed to escape her hands while she wasn’t paying attention.

It was one of the few times that the Empress of Forbidden Creation had ever lost face, and she had complained about it so frequently that Haoran had grown tired of hearing the story.

"A Heavenly Saint Willow Tree..." Haoran muttered, "Could it be that thing? The one that fled into the cracks of the dimensions and caused Aunt Yuyan to repeatedly rage even now?"

He looked toward the direction of the distant mountains, a new spark of excitement igniting in his heart.

The "variables" of this world were becoming more interesting by the second.

"Stone Village, you say?" Haoran whispered, a dangerous smile touching his lips. "It seems my departure will have to be delayed just a little longer. Qing’er, we have a legend to hunt."