The first thing Bai Ye noticed after fully regaining control of his body was the pressure.
It wasn't physical pain. It was heavier than that—an invisible force pressing down on his skin, his bones, even his thoughts. The air itself felt thick, saturated with an oppressive energy that made breathing slightly uncomfortable.
Demonic qi.
> So this really is a cultivation world, Bai Ye thought calmly.
He sat upright on the black jade platform, flexing his fingers slowly. The body he now inhabited was unfamiliar, but not weak. There was latent strength coiled beneath the skin, like a beast half-asleep. His muscles responded smoothly, and his senses felt sharper than any human body he had known before.
But strength alone meant nothing here.
Memories continued to surface, merging seamlessly with his own consciousness.
This body—this Bai Ye—had a reputation.
And it was…terrible.
Arrogant.
Lazy.
Lustful.
Quick to anger, quicker to run.
A classic third-rate villain.
The type destined to offend the wrong genius, provoke the wrong elder, and die quietly without anyone remembering his name.
Bai Ye almost laughed.
> Perfect.
A knock sounded at the door.
Not respectful. Not hesitant. Sharp and impatient.
"Young Master," a rough voice called from outside. "The Patriarch summons you to the main hall. Immediately."
No honorifics beyond the bare minimum. No warmth.
Bai Ye's eyes flickered with amusement.
> So that's how low my standing is.
"Understood," he replied lazily, letting a trace of irritation slip into his tone—just enough to match expectations.
Moments later, he stepped out of the chamber.
The Bai Clan estate spread before him, carved directly into a jagged mountainside. Black stone corridors twisted like veins through the rock, illuminated by crimson lanterns that burned with eerie demonic flames. Cultivators passed by occasionally—some in dark robes, others bare-armed and scarred from body refinement techniques.
Every single one of them carried killing intent.
Some subtle. Some blatant.
Most ignored Bai Ye.
A few sneered openly.
"Young Master Bai," one inner disciple muttered as Bai Ye passed, not even bothering to bow. "Try not to embarrass the clan again today."
Laughter followed.
Bai Ye didn't react. He kept walking, posture relaxed, steps unhurried.
> Good, he thought. The lower their expectations, the safer I am.
The main hall of the Bai Clan loomed ahead—a massive structure supported by demonic beast bones and engraved with ancient runes. Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.
At the highest seat sat a middle-aged man with sharp features and cold eyes.
Bai Zhentian.
Patriarch of the Bai Clan.
His father—in this life.
He radiated authority effortlessly, demonic qi rolling off him in controlled waves. To the left and right stood several elders, each one stronger than the last. At the edges of the hall lingered younger clan members, their gazes filled with curiosity, disdain, or barely concealed hostility.
Bai Ye stepped forward and bowed shallowly.
"Father," he said.
Bai Zhentian's eyes swept over him, expression unreadable.
"You survived," the patriarch said.
The words were simple. The implication was not.
"Yes," Bai Ye replied with a faint smirk. "Disappointed?"
A ripple of shock moved through the hall.
An elder frowned. Another narrowed his eyes.
Bai Zhentian studied his son for a long moment before snorting softly.
"Still as insolent as ever," he said. "You collapsed during yesterday's body tempering trial. Some believed you had died."
> So that's my excuse, Bai Ye realized.
"I merely overestimated my limits," Bai Ye said carelessly. "It won't happen again."
That earned him a few looks of disbelief.
"See that it doesn't," Bai Zhentian said coldly. "The Heavenly Demon Cult will hold the Inner Disciples Selection in three months. Our Bai Clan cannot afford further disgrace."
The words struck like a blade.
Inner Disciples Selection.
That was no ordinary event.
Only the most promising disciples from subordinate clans were allowed to participate. Success meant access to better resources, techniques, and protection. Failure meant stagnation—or worse.
Several young clan members glanced at Bai Ye with mockery.
Everyone here knew the truth.
Bai Ye, as he was, stood no chance.
"I understand," Bai Ye replied simply.
Bai Zhentian's gaze sharpened slightly, as if searching for something beneath the surface.
"Good," he said at last. "You are dismissed."
Bai Ye bowed again and turned to leave.
As he exited the hall, a familiar cold voice echoed in his mind.
> [System notification: Host has successfully maintained villain persona.]
[Hidden Mission triggered: 'Survive as the Disgraced Young Master.']
Bai Ye's steps faltered for just a fraction of a second.
> Hidden mission already?
He kept his expression neutral.
> [Mission Objective: Remain alive within the Bai Clan for three months without revealing true potential.]
[Reward: System Store access (Basic Tier) + Demonic Merit Points.]
[Failure Penalty: Fate hostility increase.]
A slow smile spread across Bai Ye's face once he was alone.
> So that's how you want to play it.
Back in his courtyard, Bai Ye dismissed the servants and sat cross-legged on the stone floor. The moment he focused inward, the system interface unfolded before him like a dark mirror.
The System Store appeared—dim, restricted, but real.
Rows of items shimmered faintly, most locked behind conditions he couldn't yet meet. Still, a few basic entries were visible.
Low-grade demonic body tempering pills.
Incomplete Yang circulation manuals.
Minor charisma enhancement talismans.
Nothing overwhelming.
Nothing free.
> Balanced, Bai Ye noted approvingly.
He closed the store and shifted his focus inward.
The Yang-aligned physique stirred immediately, heat blooming in his meridians. At the same time, the Yin–Yang bloodline responded, subtle and stabilizing, preventing the energy from running wild.
For the first time since transmigrating, Bai Ye cultivated seriously.
Minutes passed. Then hours.
When he finally opened his eyes, the world felt…clearer.
Not stronger.
But ready.
A sudden commotion erupted outside.
Shouting.
Footsteps.
A familiar sneering voice.
"Bai Ye!" someone barked. "Get out here!"
Bai Ye rose slowly.
He recognized that voice from the memories.
Bai Jun.
A cousin.
An inner disciple candidate.
One of the many who enjoyed trampling him.
Bai Ye stepped into the courtyard just as Bai Jun strode in, flanked by two followers.
"What is it?" Bai Ye asked lazily.
Bai Jun sneered. "You really have no shame. Collapsing during training, embarrassing the clan, and still pretending to cultivate?"
He leaned closer, voice dropping.
"Three months from now, during the Inner Disciples Selection, I'll personally make sure you're crippled."
The threat was casual. Routine.
The followers laughed.
Bai Ye tilted his head slightly, studying Bai Jun like an insect.
Then he smiled.
Not arrogantly.
Not fearfully.
Just…calmly.
"Feel free to try," Bai Ye said. "But if I survive, remember this moment."
Bai Jun froze for a split second—something in Bai Ye's eyes unsettling him.
Then he scoffed.
"Big words for trash."
He turned and left.
Bai Ye watched them go, expression unreadable.
Inside his mind, the system chimed softly.
> [Authority Skill resonance detected.]
[Charisma attribute reacting.]
Bai Ye exhaled slowly.
> Three months, he thought. That's plenty of time.
The third-rate villain had awakened.
And he had no intention of dying quietly.
---
Author's Note (A/N):
This chapter establishes Bai Ye's position in the world—not as a rising genius, but as a disgraced young master surrounded by hostility. His survival depends on restraint, deception, and understanding the rules of the Heavenly Demon Cult before trying to break them.
The Bai Clan is not a safe starting point. Even his father views him as expendable. This pressure is intentional. Growth in this story will not come from instant breakthroughs, but from navigating danger while appearing weak.
The System's role is also clarified here. It does not reward impulsive strength—it rewards control, timing, and long-term survival. The hidden mission sets the pace for the next arc, where reputation, politics, and internal conflict matter just as much as cultivation.
The Inner Disciples Selection will be a turning point.
From here on, the mayhem begins to take shape.
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