Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 123: You’re Better Than Chu Xueyu

High atop the scorched peaks of a Crimson Ridge, the Fire Wind Sect stood as a testament to the desperate ambition of those who had once tasted the heavens and were now forced to crawl in the mud.

The air here was perpetually thick with the scent of ozone and burning sulfur, a byproduct of the dual-element cultivation that defined the sect’s foundation.

This sect was founded only two decades ago, and in that short amount of time, it had rapidly ascended to become a powerful first-rate force in the region, led by a mysterious couple whose techniques were far more refined than any local lineage.

At this moment.

In the heart of the Sect Master’s Palace, carved from obsidian and reinforced with wind-attuned jade, a couple, a man and a woman, sat upon elevated thrones.

Both possessed the distinctive golden-blonde hair of a certain clan, and although they sat there, looking majestic, if one were to look closely, they would notice that couple’s auras were erratic, like flickering candles in a storm.

The man, with piercing blue eyes, sat with a rigid, military posture, while the woman, her green eyes clouded with a lingering melancholy, leaned back with a weary grace.

These were the parents of Shen Hao.

Once, they were proud Profound Saint Realm experts of the illustrious Shen Clan, standing amongst the elite of the Prime Origin Realm.

But their world had ended the day Chu Xueyu, the Clan Matriarch, the Ruthless Empress, turned her cold gaze toward them.

To pave the way for her own son, she had personally crippled their foundations, stripped their eldest son of his Infinity Dragon God Physique, and cast them into a chaotic wormhole.

But by a miracle of spatial turbulence, they had survived, ending up in this "trash" lower realm.

In those early, desperate days, they had carried a dying, blood-stained Shen Hao through the wilderness.

Then, one day, they heard whispers of a Willow Goddess in a secluded village, and, driven by their desperate wish for their son to live, they had crawled on their knees to beg for his life.

The tree had agreed, but the price was a long, suspended separation while the boy’s shattered origin was slowly mended.

Driven by a mix of guilt of not being able to protect him and the need to provide a sanctuary for their son’s eventual awakening, they had founded the Fire Wind Sect.

They built it on blood and fire, hoping to create a power that could shield their son, who was now a talentless mortal.

However, time is a cruel architect. During the twenty years of waiting, they eventually had another child.

And in their grief and misplaced overcompensation, they had poured all their remaining love and resources into him.

They spoiled him to the point of rot, turning him into a mirror of the very "arrogant young masters" they had once despised. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

The more they indulged their second son, the more they sought to bury the memory of the crippled, dying infant they had left under the willow tree.

Even when the Willow Goddess recently contacted them to say Shen Hao had awakened, they had remained in their palace.

Whether out of shame, a desire for him to live a quiet mortal life, or a subconscious wish to sever ties with a past that only brought them pain, they had not gone to see him.

At this moment, the heavy obsidian doors to the hall swung open with a resounding bang.

A young man with faded golden-blonde hair and arrogant blue eyes swaggered inside, his silk robes trailing behind him.

"Mother, Father, you called for me? I was in the middle of a very important banquet," the boy said, his voice laced with a petulant drawl.

"You!" The father slammed his fist onto the armrest, his blue eyes flashing with a spark of his former Saintly fury. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done!? The sect elders just reported that you spent ten thousand spirit stones to buy a single ’Star-Fire’ artifact for that girl you’re pursuing in the capital! Ten thousand! That is enough resources to sustain a Core Disciple for ten entire years! And you wasted it on a whim!"

"What’s the matter? We’re rich, aren’t we?" the boy replied nonchalantly, checking his fingernails. "We have the Fire Wind Sect. We have several Spirit Stone mines under our control. What’s the big deal about a few stones?"

"You! Bastard!" the father roared, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. "Why did I have a son like you!?"

"Dear." The mother’s voice cut through the air, soft yet sharp as a blade. "That’s enough. He is your son. Do not speak of... things that cannot be changed."

The second son smiled smugly, seeing his mother’s intervention. "That’s right! I’m your son! The only heir to this sect! Besides, father, you’re always so tense. It’s just money."

"Bastard! You damn bastard! You unfilial son! You have no discipline, no respect for the path! If it were Hao’er—!" the father hissed.

"Dear!" The mother stared at him sternly, "That is enough.

The father stared at his wife, then to his son, his hands trembling as the comparison to his lost eldest son always sat like a piece of glass in his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to spit it out.

"Hao’er?" The boy snorted, his expression turning ugly. "Father, are you seriously still thinking about my crippled, ’mythical’ brother? Let it go. Even if that tree healed him, so what? He lost his physique. He lost his talent. He’d just be a mortal—a common peasant. Worse than even the lowliest trash in our outer sect. Why do you even keep mentioning a ghost?"

The hall fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

The father and mother went silent, their eyes twisting with a complex cocktail of guilt, remorse, and self-justification as they looked away from each other, their hands clenched until their knuckles turned white.

’It was all for Hao’er’s sake,’ they thought, a mantra they had repeated so many times it had become their only armor. ’We want him to live an ordinary life, far from the blood and the schemes of the Shen Clan. It is better this way.’

Just then, the sound of rhythmic, slow clapping echoed throughout the throne hall.

*Clap... clap... clap...*

"Who’s there!?" The father and mother surged to their feet in an instant, their Nascent Soul auras flaring with defensive instinct. "This is the inner sanctum of the Fire Wind Sect!! Show yourselves!"

Just then, in the center of the hall, the very space itself began to twist and ripple like a heat haze on the horizon.

The air curdled with a sudden, overwhelming majesty that made the couple’s Nascent Soul pressure feel like a gentle breeze against a hurricane.

Slowly, two figures manifested from the spatial distortion.

Leading them was a young man with hair of pure, radiant gold and eyes like molten suns—eyes that held a terrifying, amused arrogance.

He continued to clap his hands with a slow, mocking rhythm.

Behind him stood a silent, lethal shadow: a woman in a black, skintight, sleeveless bodysuit, her red eyes scanning the room with the clinical indifference of an executioner.

The parents of Shen Hao froze. Their breath hitched in their throats, and their hearts felt as though they had been gripped by a giant’s hand.

In the Upper Realm, there was a specific sight that heralded the end of eras. Whenever a member of the Shen Clan’s main line appeared, there was always a Shadow Guard standing a half-step behind them.

It was the iconic image of absolute authority.

It was the same sight they had seen twenty years ago, and Chu Xueyu had stood exactly like that when she had ended their lives as Saints.

Just seeing this pair was enough to trigger a wave of visceral, bone-deep PTSD that paralyzed their very souls.

Shen Haoran stopped clapping, lowering his hands slowly as he tilted his head as a thin, beautiful, and utterly heartless smile touched his lips as he surveyed the "crippled" relatives he had traveled so far to find.

"Greetings, Aunt. Greetings, Uncle," Haoran said, his voice smooth as silk and cold as a tomb. "I trust the lower realm has been... kind to you?"

The two of them trembled, fear gripping their hearts as they stared at him with eyes widened, pupils dilated.

"Huh? Who are you calling aunt and uncle?" The son sneered and faced him, "Don’t think that any trash can just call them that! Let me tell you, my parents are both Nascent Soul realm experts!"

His eyes then landed on Qing’er, and his face brightened up as he smiled lecherously, "Well, if you offered that girl—"

*Stab!*

"Ah—AAAAAHHH!" The boy screamed as he dropped to the floor, holding two knives stabbed towards his eyes. "AAAAHH! IT HURTS! MOM! MOM! HELP ME! I CAN’T SEE!"

"Son!" The parents both stood up and was about to help him, but at that moment, they felt a powerful momentum pressing down at them, forcing them to sit back down.

They groaned, trying to resist the force, but they couldn’t move, no matter how much they force themselves to.

Haoran walked towards the crying boy, "I’m an incredibly selfish, self-centered guy. I only like to take things from others, but I absolutely hate it if others try to take what’s mine."

"MOM! DAD! HELP ME! HELP ME!" The boy cried, not even hearing what Haoran had just said.

"Noisy," Haoran frowned, and immediately kicked the jaw of the boy, breaking it.

The boy twitched, and a rancid stench immediately permeated the room.

Haoran saw that the boy not only passed out from pain, but also peed from fear.

He shook his head and kicked the boy to the side, before walking towards the parents who were forced to remain seated.

"That thing is what you use to replace your child? Man, at least have some standards." He chuckled, observing them, "I heard what happened. And I got to say, I’m impressed."

Once again, he clapped his hands three times, before continuing. "You know, my mother, ruthless as she is, but never did it come across her mind to abandon and forget her own child. In that regard, the two of you are better than her. I guess this is something to brag about right? Some trash actually beat the Ruthless Empress when it comes to ruthlessness."

The two stared at him, looking ashamed and guilty as every words he uttered felt like knife stabbing through their heart.

But...

They really couldn’t refute any of it! After all, everything he said was the truth!

In the end, due to sheer guilt and embarrassment, the two of them actually spat out mouthful of blood!