Villain System: Stealing the Protagonist's Harem and Luck

Chapter 145: The Face-Slapping Stings; A Harmony of Husband and Wife

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Streaks of divine light converged from all corners of the horizon. In a remarkably short span, the mountain peaks were swarming with cultivators and indigenous beings. The atmosphere was electric, teetering on the edge of chaos. Verbal barbs quickly escalated into bloody skirmishes; brilliant light intertwined in the sky as various magical artifacts streaked across the firmament, dazzling and lethal.

Boom!

Mountains groaned and ancient forests collapsed into clouds of rising dust.

“Who does this Long Teng think he is?” a young prodigy from the outside world jeered, trading insults with the native inhabitants. “He should just wash his neck and wait for Young Master Changge to harvest his head.”

“You ignorant filth! You have no conception of Lord Long Teng’s true power!” a native retorted before charging forward. The two sides clashed in a frenzy, eyes red with bloodlust as limbs and corpses began to litter the landscape.

The assembly was split into two distinct camps. To the east stood the indigenous dwellers of the Immortal Ancient Continent—winged maidens with golden hair, ancient flood dragons, and robust warriors with scales encrusting their arms. They watched the outsiders with cold, predatory disdain. To the west stood the disciples of the supreme orthodoxies and immortal sects, led by figures like Ye Langtian, who was wreathed in golden halos, and the mist-shrouded Wang Wushuang.

Despite the risk of being caught in the crossfire, thousands had gathered to witness the event that would redefine the power balance of the continent. Yet, all eyes eventually drifted toward the peak where a terrifying figure sat enveloped in dense, shifting dragon runes.

Long Teng.

Behind him, his retinue stood in chilling silence—grim, iron-blooded warriors who looked as if they had survived a thousand hells. Long Teng’s aura was that of a peak Void God Realm, radiating the raw, oppressive weight of a juvenile True Dragon.

Ye Langtian and the other young supremes felt the crushing pressure. The gap in cultivation was undeniable; they were not his match. “And yet,” Ye Langtian whispered, shaking his head, “he lacks that certain… unfathomable quality that Brother Changge possesses.”

Nearby, Wang Wushuang’s eyes flared with golden runes as he gauged the dragon’s strength.

In the distance, Gu Xianer arrived like a flickering shadow, moving with incredible haste. She ducked into the dense crowds, hoping to remain unnoticed by Gu Changge. However, she was quickly disappointed. Changge was nowhere to be seen. Given his twisted sense of humor, she wondered if he had simply decided to stand Long Teng up and let the man look like a fool.

Suddenly, her gaze shifted upward.

Nine ancient beasts resembling divine phoenixes galloped through the clouds, pulling a carriage of translucent white jade. It came to a halt in the high sky, shimmering with auspicious light and wreathed in celestial mist. Through the delicate curtains, a graceful, curvaceous silhouette was barely visible.

Gu Xianer recognized it immediately: Yue Mingkong’s carriage.

Unlike Changge, Yue Mingkong had treated her with a sincere kindness that Xianer felt in her soul. She knew Mingkong had tried to assist her against the Sea King Palace but had been intercepted.

High above, even the older generation—those forbidden from interfering—watched from the shadows. Long Teng represented the pinnacle of the Dragon Clan’s hopes; they couldn’t help but look on.

Long Teng’s gaze shifted to the jade carriage, his eyes spinning like miniature galaxies. He stared at the silhouette with a predatory heat.

“Abandon that man surnamed Gu,” Long Teng’s voice boomed like rolling thunder, infused with a terrifying Dao charm. “Follow me instead. What say you?”

The sheer volume of his voice caused the air to vibrate. Lesser cultivators clutched their ears, their internal Qi churning; some fell to their knees, paralyzed by the sound.

The outsiders were incensed. Yue Mingkong was the future Empress of the Unrivaled Celestial Dynasty—her nobility was absolute. To speak to her like a common concubine was the ultimate insult.

“I’ve seen many fools courting death,” a cold, melodious voice drifted from the carriage, sounding devoid of all emotion. “But I have never seen one quite as eager as you.”

To Yue Mingkong, Long Teng was already a dead man. She knew Changge’s response would be swift and final. She also remembered that Long Teng possessed a drop of Seven-Colored True Dragon Blood—the essence found only beneath the hardest scale of a dragon. Gu Changge likely didn’t know about it, but she knew how to refine it.

“I like that spirit!” Long Teng laughed, genuinely amused. He enjoyed women with a domineering streak; it made the eventual conquest all the more satisfying.

“Your words,” Mingkong replied, a sharp frown creasing her brow, “are truly disgusting.”

She didn’t wait for Changge. She struck first.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Silvery-white sword light erupted from the carriage like growing vines, cold and blindingly bright.

The crowd gasped as Mingkong unleashed a powerful Emperor Technique. She had already reached the Void God Realm, and though she was technically lower in cultivation than Long Teng, she showed no fear. She wanted to test the dragon’s depth herself.

The young supremes watching were stunned. Mingkong’s true strength was far greater than the rumors suggested.

“Audacious!” Long Teng’s smile vanished. Being called “disgusting” in front of the entire continent was a blow to his ego he couldn’t ignore. “You have no chance against me! You are nothing but an ant!”

He stood with his hands behind his back, a look of pure contempt on his face. Between his eyebrows, a golden ocean manifested, surging forward like a tidal wave to meet her silver vines.

Boom!

The collision shattered the void. Even True God Realm experts would have hesitated to take that hit.

“Princess Mingkong is formidable, but the cultivation gap is too wide,” one young supreme noted, his eyes fixed on the golden tide.

But then, the crowd’s collective breath hitched.

The golden ocean was being torn apart. Masses of light rain exploded into golden lotuses that shredded the sky. Through the shimmering debris, the phantom of a peerless Empress seemed to stand in the air, radiating a majesty that dwarfed the world.

“I admit I underestimated you,” Long Teng hissed, his face darkening. “But I will not be so lenient a second time.”

He had lost face. He, who could suppress the Ten Great Young Masters of the continent with a single palm, had been checked by a woman.

“With such meager skill,” Mingkong’s voice rang out, cool and dismissive, “where do you find the arrogance to provoke Changge?”

The crowd went silent. They had heard this before—Gu Xianer had said almost the exact same thing to the Seventh Princess. It seemed both women shared an absolute, terrifying confidence in Gu Changge.

“You have truly succeeded in making me angry,” Long Teng growled. His retinue flared their Qi, their blood and energy rolling like dark storm clouds. They looked ready to swarm the carriage and suppress Mingkong by force.

“And you,” a faint, casual voice interrupted from the edge of the horizon, “have succeeded in making me bored, little ant.”

The main character had arrived.

Rumble!

A massive commotion tore through the sky as streaks of divine rainbows swept over the mountains. The sheer scale of the arriving force was enough to make the spectators gasp.

“Not good…”

Long Teng’s instincts screamed. He sensed the space around him warping. Terrifying runes flowed over his skin, hardening into a coat of brilliant dragon armor.

But as the void in front of him buckled, a young man stepped out. He looked effortless, his expression one of mild amusement. As he lifted his foot, the weight of the entire world seemed to materialize into a single point of gravity.

BOOM!

The void shattered. Long Teng had no time to block. A boot slammed into his midsection.

Pfft!

The dragon-heir sprayed blood as his internal organs fractured under the weight of the blow. He was kicked straight out of the sky, crashing into the earth with a sound like a falling star.

Dust and debris geysered into the air as the mountain range fractured into deep fissures.

Gu Changge had landed.

“I told you to wait,” he said with a low, mocking laugh. “And here you are, standing still just like a good little boy.”

He raised his palm. Thousands of runes appeared, dense as raindrops—a sea of blindingly brilliant sword energy. Star-thick beams of light fell from the sky like sinking suns.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

The peaks ahead were reduced to powder in seconds. Long Teng’s followers were sent flying, coughing blood; those too slow to react simply detonated in the void, leaving behind nothing but a red mist.

The spectators were dumbfounded. Long Teng had been humiliated the very second Gu Changge appeared. It was the ultimate face-slap: the grander the show, the more painful the fall.

“So,” Changge said, looking down into the crater where Long Teng was buried. His tone was as casual as if he were asking about the weather. “How do you want to die?”

“Master, what of these?”

Changge’s followers arrived, dragging a group of bound prisoners. Among them was the Dragon Girl, her face a mask of terror, her clothes soaked in blood, and her tongue missing. She had been broken long before she reached the peak.

“A gift for our friend,” Changge said lightly. He then turned his gaze toward the jade carriage. “I’ll deal with this lizard first. Then, I’ll settle my account with you for using me as a shield.”

Yue Mingkong remained calm, acting as if she hadn’t heard the threat. She knew him too well to believe he was truly angry.

In fact, she had misread him. Gu Changge had checked on her simply to ensure she wasn’t hurt. Seeing she was fine, he asked, “Are you alright?”

Mingkong felt a brief, unexpected flutter of emotion at his concern. But, assuming it was just a performance for the crowd, she composed herself. “I am fine, Changge. Do not worry.”

The surrounding cultivators could only watch in awe. This was the legendary Young Taboo and his future Empress.

“Truly,” one whispered, “a harmony of husband and wife.”