I Really Am A Villain

Xu Zimo nodded slightly, signaling to Feng Buxiu that he could leave.

He slowly opened the wooden box before him. Dust filled the air, and with a creaking sound, the long-sealed box finally opened, releasing a faint, ancient scent.

Inside was a very thick book.

Its cover was as hard as steel, black as night. Three large golden characters were written on the front, The Ode of Gods and Ghosts.

Xu Zimo opened the book and began reading intently.

The top floor of the library was extremely quiet. Few ever came here, and thick layers of dust covered everything.

Beside him, a window let in faint rays of dark red twilight.

Time passed, and soon night had fully fallen over the Seven Gods Collegium. Only then did Xu Zimo exhale slowly and close the book, frowning slightly.

The contents were just as Feng Buxiu had described, nothing but a miscellaneous collection.

Its scope was vast, touching on nearly every corner of the Ghost-God Heaven, yet the events it described were trivial.

It felt as though the author had intentionally hidden something; time and again, just as a subject reached its most crucial point, the text would abruptly stop.

“What exactly is this?” Xu Zimo muttered to himself.

He stared down at the book, thinking for a moment, until suddenly his brows knit together.

His gaze fixed on the steel-like cover.

Gripping it firmly, he snapped it apart with force, the hard surface splitting cleanly in two.

Inside the cover was a sheet of golden paper.

Before he could touch it, the gold paper erupted in brilliant light.

A blinding radiance filled the entire library, bathing every corner in gold.

“Seven.”

A low whisper echoed, a single word, as if it came from the chaos before creation itself, reverberating through the ancient ages, crossing billions of miles to reach Xu Zimo’s ears.

Then, upon the golden sheet, a shadowy figure appeared.

The image was fragmented, almost pixelated, its form unclear, yet faintly human.

“It’s been a long time,” the phantom said with a faint smile.

“You’re… Old Yang?” Xu Zimo asked in surprise.

“‘Old Yang’ was only a name,” the phantom replied. “More accurately, I am called Seven.”

“Seven?” Xu Zimo frowned.

He suddenly remembered the old man he had met in the Unfinished Palace, one who had called himself Three.

“So, are you all part of some kind of organization?” Xu Zimo said with a half-smile.

“You could say that,” the figure of Seven replied calmly. “All beings are one.”

“You appeared because you need something from me?” Xu Zimo asked.

“Shouldn’t it be you who needs something from me?” the phantom countered with a smile.

“I heard from Chancellor Feng that you know about the Ancient Gods,” Xu Zimo said.

“The Ancient Gods… yes, I know of one, the Wood God Jumang.”

The elder’s phantom smiled faintly. “You’re seeking his inheritance, aren’t you?”

“Can you tell me where it is?” Xu Zimo asked.

“It’s no great secret. In the Forbidden Lands of the Ghost-God Heaven, there lies the Sunflower City. It was once Wood God Jumang’s homeland, a city formed not from stone, but from towering trees, built from giant spirit-woods and phoenix-trees. But even if you reach Sunflower City,” the old man continued, “you won’t find his inheritance. That city is a maze, built upon the twenty-four divisions of the heavens. There is no true core formation, its structure changes endlessly with every passing second.”

“Surely you must have a way,” Xu Zimo said.

“In this world, nothing is absolute,” Seven replied. “But long ago, there was one person who entered and left Sunflower City freely.”

“Who?”

“The White Emperor,” the phantom said slowly.

Xu Zimo froze for a moment. The White Emperor? That was the very being he had agreed to represent the Seven Gods Collegium in challenging for White Emperor Mountain.

“The White Emperor possesses a compass called Traceless Compass,” the phantom continued. “That compass can perceive the balance of yin and yang across all ages, discern the changes of the heavens, reverse time, and even flow backward into the ancient past. With its guidance, you can reach the city.”

“Why are you helping me?” Xu Zimo asked after a brief silence.

He had been prepared to negotiate, to exchange favors if necessary, but the phantom, who owed him nothing, had revealed everything freely.

“I’m not helping you,” Seven said. “I’m helping myself.”

“I don’t quite understand,” Xu Zimo said. “Please, enlighten me.”

“Walk your path forward,” the phantom said with a smile. “One day, you’ll part the mist and see your true heart.”

As his words faded, the golden light dimmed, and the phantom gradually dissolved into the air.

The remnants of the book caught fire on their own, burning to ash within moments.

The entire library fell silent once again, leaving only Xu Zimo standing alone.

He descended from the top floor. At the entrance, a young woman was already waiting for him.

“You must be Young Master Xu,” she said with a smile. “Chancellor Feng asked me to wait for you and take you to your quarters.”

Xu Zimo nodded slightly.

Following behind her, they arrived at a quiet courtyard.

The scenery was elegant and tranquil. At its center stood a blazing red tree, its leaves transformed into floating embers that drifted gently through the air. The architecture resembled water towns, serene and graceful.

“How does Young Master find it here?” the woman asked.

“It’s fine,” Xu Zimo said with a nod. Then he asked, “And the swordsman who came with me?”

He was referring, of course, to Sword God Xie Changliu.

“He’s not far from you,” the woman replied with a light smile.

Xu Zimo nodded again and gestured for her to leave.

Once the woman stepped out of Xu Zimo’s courtyard, her pleasant expression vanished.

Several white-robed youths emerged from the shadows nearby.

“Well, Senior Sister Zuo, how did it go?” one of them asked.

“He’s the one the Chancellor said would represent our academy in the coming contest?”

The woman nodded slightly. “Judging by how the Chancellor treats him, it seems all but decided.”

“That’s unfair!” one of the young men said angrily. “We’ve trained for years, and now some outsider shows up and takes our place?!”

“Complaining won’t change anything,” another muttered. “Maybe we should ask the Chancellor ourselves.”

“Yeah, Senior Brother Hongyu went with the Chancellor, didn’t he? Why hasn’t he returned?”

The group began arguing in low voices.

The woman, Senior Sister Zuo, seemed to grow impatient.

“Forget trying to change the Chancellor’s mind,” she said coldly. “Better we teach him a lesson. Then the Chancellor will have to reconsider his choice.”

The others hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Flames surged.

Boundless fire swept across Xu Zimo’s sea of consciousness. Sweat streamed down his forehead as the inferno seemed ready to melt him entirely.

Suddenly, his tightly shut eyes snapped open.