NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!

Chapter 23: Teahouse

As Hei Long approached the teahouse, he took a moment to compose himself.

The building was modest, traditional, with paper walls and curved tiles.

Its wood had been worn smooth by time, and the aroma of steeping leaves drifted out into the open air like a subtle lure.

Hei Long could already feel this heroine’s presence.

Still and unmoving—like the surface of a frozen lake.

"..." Hei Long smiled faintly, eyes glinting:

"Let’s see how cold you really are, Ji Yao..."

And with that, Hei Long stepped inside.

A hush seemed to follow him.

Curious eyes turned his way.

Hei Long paid them no mind.

His steps were steady, unhurried, as if he belonged wherever he chose to go.

Soon, he reached a long table crowded with inner disciples—both men and women—each vying, almost pathetically, for the attention of the Saintess.

Their laughter was forced, their words shallow, and Ji Yao’s expression—cold and distant—made it painfully clear that none had managed to interest her.

Without so much as a glance at the crowded table—

Hei Long took the seat at the table right beside it.

He leaned back slightly, draping one arm casually over the back of the chair, his posture relaxed.

’Time to begin,’ Hei Long thought, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Moments later, a female server approached quietly, her posture respectful:

"Sir, what type of tea would you like?"

Hei Long rubbed his chin, then gave her a gentle smile—the kind that made people listen a little closer and lean in a little further:

"Could I please get the Golden Dragon’s Tea?"

Silence.

The female server froze, her eyes widening just slightly.

Her composure cracked for only a second, but it was enough to catch the attention of nearby onlookers.

It wasn’t a request she heard every day.

"P-please give me a moment," the female server replied quickly, bowing her head before hurrying off.

Even Ji Yao, the Saintess herself, who had been ignoring every word tossed her way, reacted.

Her eyes flicked toward Hei Long.

Subtly—but unmistakably.

Ji Yao’s ears had twitched at the mention of that tea.

The Golden Dragon’s Tea.

It wasn’t just rare—it was dangerous.

Most young cultivators didn’t even know it existed, let alone dared to drink it.

The tea’s properties were intense, flooding one’s Qi channels with scorching, volatile energy.

If a cultivator’s body and spirit weren’t in perfect harmony, drinking it would be like swallowing molten fire.

But those who could handle it... were few.

Fewer still could order it with a smile and mean it.

Ji Yao’s gaze lingered a second longer on Hei Long, her expression still unreadable.

But for the first time since she entered the teahouse, she wasn’t looking through someone—she was looking at them.

And Hei Long knew it.

’It seems I’ve grabbed her attention.’

Hei Long allowed himself a faint smile.

Just as he was settling back into his chair, the tea server returned—though this time, she was no longer alone.

Walking beside her was an elderly man, his presence commanding enough to silence the soft murmurs around the teahouse.

His long white hair flowed past his shoulders, and his beard was well-kept, reaching the middle of his chest.

Dressed in simple but dignified robes of deep green and gold trim.

His hands were clasped neatly behind his back as he came to a stop in front of Hei Long, his gaze sharp beneath his bushy brows.

A moment passed as he sized the young cultivator up.

"I’ve been informed," the elder began, his voice steady and deep, "that you have requested a cup of Golden Dragon’s Tea."

There was no friendliness in his tone—nor hostility.

Only curiosity tempered by caution.

Hei Long met the old man’s eyes without the slightest sign of hesitation.

"That is correct," he replied, offering a polite dip of his head:

"If it’s available, I would be honored to try it."

The elder raised a single white eyebrow, a trace of disbelief passing across his aged face:

"Are you aware of the nature of this tea, boy?"

He glanced over his shoulder briefly, as if ensuring the entire teahouse was still listening—because of course, they were.

This wasn’t an ordinary moment.

"The Golden Dragon’s Tea," the elder continued:

"Was brewed in the early years of the Old Era. Infused with condensed solar essence, it’s not just rare—it is violent. The heat within a single cup is enough to rupture the meridians of the unworthy. I’ve watched geniuses cry blood after a single sip. So tell me... do you understand what could happen if you were to drink it?"

By now, the other inner disciples were quiet.

Many eyes were now resting on Hei Long.

"..."

But Hei Long only lifted his hand, calm and unbothered.

"I assure you," he said, his tone smooth as flowing silk:

"This tea will not harm me."

There was no arrogance in Hei Long’s voice, no bravado—just certainty.

A still, confident strength that made the old man narrow his eyes slightly.

He was trying to see through Hei Long, to find some trace of bluff or ignorance.

He found neither.

"Hmph." The elder exhaled through his nose, his voice now contemplative:

"Very well. If you’re so confident, I will personally prepare the brew. But heed this warning—should you lose control of your Qi, you may not be able to stop the internal damage once it begins. There will be no refund for foolishness."

"That’s fine," Hei Long said with a faint smile, waving his hand dismissively:

"I trust your skill, Senior."

The old man gave a thoughtful hum and finally turned to leave, followed by the female server.

As they did, the whispering resumed, louder now, as the crowd digested what had just happened:

"Is he crazy?"

"Who even is this guy...?"

"I bet he just read about it somewhere and wants to act tough."

"I’ve seen many elders beg for that tea and get rejected."

"...Wait, look at the Saintess."

Ji Yao was still watching—unblinking, silent, as though she were examining a rare beast placed unexpectedly before her.

’She’s curious now,’ Hei Long thought.

Exactly what he wanted.