NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!
Chapter 101: The Bold Proposal

Chapter 101: The Bold Proposal

The moon hung high over Ocean City as Hei Long stepped into the secluded grove behind the arena—a place untouched by sect politics and tournament chaos.

Dressed in ceremonial black with silver thread running like rivers down his sleeves, he carried nothing but a small ring carved from spirit jade, cold and ancient.

No fireworks. No fanfare.

Just him and the promise he was finally ready to make.

Lan Yinyin was already waiting.

Back straight, eyes sharp, dressed like a divine empress accidentally wandered into a romance drama. She looked at him with that same impossible expression: curious, guarded, dangerous.

"You came," she said, as if she’d already prepared for ten different outcomes.

"I always planned to," Hei Long replied simply. "I just needed to finish crushing the last remnants of hesitation."

"So what is this? Confession number five? A duel in disguise?"

"No. This time, I’m not running, stalling, or pretending."

He stepped closer.

"You once asked if I feared you. I do. But not in the way you think."

She tilted her head.

"Go on."

"I fear that if I lose you... nothing else will ever be enough."

A pause.

Lan Yinyin blinked—once, then again—as if fighting back the urge to look too moved. Then she laughed, once.

"And here I thought you were going to stammer your way through it."

"I stammer for no one," Hei Long said smoothly, dropping to one knee. "Lan Yinyin. I would face a thousand sword cultivators, tame ten spirit beasts, and walk barefoot across volcanic earth—if it meant I could stand by your side."

He presented the ring.

"Will you marry me?"

She stared at the ring.

Then at him.

Then she snatched the ring, held it up to the moonlight—

—and grinned.

"About damn time."

They sealed it not with a kiss, but with a soul pact: a gleaming burst of qi intertwining around their wrists, marking their shared fate in ink only the heavens could read.

Meanwhile, somewhere nearby...

Lin Fan crushed his teacup.

"HE PROPOSED?!"

The wall of the tea house rattled. His left eye twitched so hard it knocked his headband loose.

"No. No. NO. I was supposed to win her heart after she realized he was a walking disaster!"

Behind him, the Prince was already sketching out a new plan on the back of a dumpling menu.

"This is fine. It’s just phase... phase nineteen. Operation Final Petty Thunderstrike. We can still ruin their wedding."

"I don’t even want her anymore!" Lin Fan shouted.

The prince side-eyed him.

"You’re holding a sword engraved with her name."

"It’s a souvenir!"

. . . .

In the royal quarters of Ocean City’s eastern wing, a crisis was unfolding.

Lin Fan was pacing a hole into the floor.

"I don’t care," he repeated. "I’m fine. I hope they’re happy. I’m emotionally mature now."

Behind him, Prince Wuheng had gathered a dozen sect representatives, all frowning over a chalkboard labeled:

Operation Final Petty Thunderstrike – Subphase: Stop the Wedding

The prince, still sipping lotus wine like a bored war general, glanced up.

"Lin Fan, you’re dripping tears on the tactical map again."

"That’s condensation," Lin Fan snapped. "It’s hot in here."

The "condensation" was soaking through the part of the map labeled: "Hei Long’s Route to the Altar."

Wuheng sighed.

"We need a distraction. Something so dramatic, so absurd, it delays the wedding by at least three weeks."

"What if I fake my death?" Lin Fan suggested.

"That’s the third time you’ve said that today. No."

"What if Hei Long fakes my death?!"

"...I’m writing that one down."

Meanwhile, Hei Long...

Hei Long was not planning a lavish wedding.

Instead, he sat under a tree with Lan Yinyin, going through a stack of temple marriage forms while she sharpened a dagger with alarming intensity.

"Do we really need a witness?" he asked.

"My brother insists," she muttered. "Something about ’honor’ and ’not letting me disappear with a known scoundrel.’"

"He says that like it’s a bad thing."

They both smirked.

Hei Long pulled a small scroll from his sleeve and unfurled it: a location deep in the Spirit Realm, a hidden lake blessed by old gods.

"If we go here, it’s quiet. No nobles. No sects. Just us."

Lan Yinyin paused mid-sharpening.

"I’d say that’s boring... if it didn’t sound perfect."

They bumped fists like degenerates, as if finalizing a black market trade.

Back to Lin Fan, spiraling further into unhinged brilliance...

"What if I become a wedding crasher legend? Like some rogue cultivator who rides in on a flaming hawk—"

"You don’t have a hawk."

"...Then I’ll summon one!"

"You failed spirit beast taming three times. The last one kicked you."

Lin Fan slapped a piece of paper on the table.

"Then it’s time. Time for my final transformation."

"Into what?!"

"Into a wedding planner. I get close, earn their trust, and when the moment is right—BAM! I swap the rings. Or the bride."

The room went silent.

Wuheng facepalmed so hard he left a red mark.

"Lin Fan... please go lie down before I report you to the sect elders for emotional damage."

It was the middle of the night when Hei Long vanished from Ocean City with Lan Yinyin in tow.

No fanfare. No sect guards. No flamboyant invitations or flaming phoenixes announcing the wedding of the century.

Just silence.

And one stolen teleportation scroll that Hei Long definitely didn’t borrow permanently from Prince Wuheng’s private stash.

Deep within the Spirit Realm...

The skies shimmered with hues that didn’t exist in the mortal world—crimson spirals, emerald stars, and a glowing moon that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Lan Yinyin stepped down from a floating lotus, her robes shifting into a flowing white gown the moment she touched the ground. It was made of woven spirit silk, threaded with light. She didn’t know how Hei Long had gotten it.

She didn’t ask.

"If you try to back out," she warned softly, "I’ll throw you into the Lake of Eternal Solitude."

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t backflip into it just to get away from wedding planning."

"Coward."

"Bridezilla."

They shared a grin, then looked at the scene ahead.

A cliffside altar overlooked a valley of glowing petals that drifted upward instead of falling. Spirit birds circled in slow arcs. The lake beneath them reflected everything... except their own images.

Hei Long frowned at the mirrorless water.

"Creepy. Romantic. Mostly creepy."

"Perfect for us," Lan Yinyin replied.

They stood beneath a lone tree—the Spirit Willow—whose translucent leaves sang in the wind.

Meanwhile... in the mortal realm...

Lin Fan burst into Prince Wuheng’s quarters like a man possessed.

"They’re gone. SHE’S GONE. They eloped!"

Wuheng didn’t look up from his tea.

"Yes. You told me that thirty seconds ago. Loudly."

"They could be anywhere! The Frozen Mountains! The Blood Marshes! The Harem Islands—wait no, those are fake—but still!"

"You could... let it go?"

Lin Fan pulled out a conspiracy board with red strings connecting blurry photos of Hei Long smiling.

"Let it go? LET IT—this man has never smiled in his life! And yet—look at this!"

He jabbed a photo of Hei Long... carrying wedding robes.

"That’s not even from this plane!" Prince Wuheng exclaimed. "Wait, how did you get this?!"

"I bribed a crow demon."

"That’s not a sentence a healthy man says."

Back in the Spirit Realm...

The ceremony began.

There was no priest. No chants. No witnesses.

Just Hei Long and Lan Yinyin, standing before each other under a rain of glowing petals, the willow’s song humming softly in the air.

Hei Long raised a small dagger.

"A drop of blood. One vow."

He pricked his palm and let it fall into a spirit lantern. It burst into silver fire.

"I vow to be your shield when the world turns against you."

Lan Yinyin nodded, and repeated the act.

"I vow to burn the world down if you fall."

"...So romantic," Hei Long muttered. "Terrifying, but romantic."

"You’re lucky I’m not into poetry."

"You’d write death threats in haiku."

They clasped hands, and the willow glowed, its leaves curling into a wreath of spirit-light that lowered onto their joined palms.

The realm shimmered—and so did their bond.

The wedding was done.

No applause. No fireworks. Just two people, standing together in a world apart.

Back in the mortal realm...

Prince Wuheng sipped his wine, staring into the middle distance.

"They’re officially married now."

Lin Fan screamed in the background as thunder cracked.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"