NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!
Chapter 103: A Thousand Weddings, One Broken Brain

Chapter 103: A Thousand Weddings, One Broken Brain

Lan Yinyin sat cross-legged in the Spirit Realm garden she and Hei Long had claimed as their temporary sanctuary.

The mist glowed faintly lavender, and spirit butterflies danced around her shoulders as her long, flowing hair shimmered with icy luster.

Hei Long, as usual, was calmly refining a new cultivation art on a hovering jade platform nearby. His aura was steady—stoic as ever—but his gaze occasionally flicked toward her, clearly aware something mischievous was brewing.

Because when Lan Yinyin smiled like that—like a fox who just found an unguarded chicken coop—it only meant one thing:

Trouble. For someone else.

Specifically... for Lin Fan.

"Darling," she said sweetly, her voice echoing through the mist. "How do you feel about getting married a few more times?"

Hei Long raised a brow. "We already are."

"Yes, but... what if we were married in the Fire Realm, the Sword Cloud Temple, the Beast King Shrine, the Four-Eyed Panda Plains, and... oh yes, the Mortal World too? Just small symbolic ceremonies."

He paused. "You mean... all at once?"

She grinned and clapped her hands. "No, no! Sequentially. Over and over. I’ve already started casting the layered illusions."

Hei Long blinked once. "You’re doing this just to break Lin Fan, aren’t you?"

Lan Yinyin didn’t even pretend to deny it. "Of course. He sent us a Cease and Divorce letter. In crayon."

Elsewhere, in a haunted outhouse near the edge of Ocean City...

Lin Fan screamed into the sink again.

"I JUST SAW THEM GET MARRIED IN A TREE."

He slammed his hands onto the porcelain, shaking.

"AND THEN IN A FLOATING LOTUS BED. AND THEN IN A TEMPLE MADE OF CAKE."

The old man’s spirit in his head groaned. "Stop watching the illusion feeds! You’re feeding into her plan! You’re embarrassing our lineage!"

"I CAN’T HELP IT!" Lin Fan wailed, rubbing his temples furiously. "I thought it was just a nightmare but I’ve seen six weddings today. Six! With different outfits! THEY EVEN HAD MATCHING SWORDS."

"You’re hallucinating. Meditate. Focus on your foundation. Remember the Fire Pulse Cycle I taught—"

"THEY HAD A FIRE PULSE MARRIAGE JUST NOW!"

In a nearby tree, one of Lan Yinyin’s illusion butterflies fluttered past, giggling in her voice.

"Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Hei Long... again~"

Lin Fan twitched. His hair was frizzing from pure stress.

He tore open his bag and yanked out his half-finished scroll labeled "Operation Divorce Beam." But it was barely functional. He had yet to properly bind the Forbidden Alchemical Core—because it kept exploding.

"Fine," he hissed, eyes wild. "If she wants a wedding marathon, then I’ll host a Funeral Olympics!"

Meanwhile, in the Spirit Realm—Wedding #7

Lan Yinyin, dressed in a phoenix-feather veil, walked calmly down a jade staircase suspended in clouds.

Hei Long stood below, in formal black robes, watching impassively as another projection of Lin Fan appeared in the mist and once again screamed, "STOP GETTING MARRIED!"

This time, the projection exploded into confetti.

Hei Long exhaled deeply. "You’re really committed to this."

Yinyin pouted playfully. "You don’t understand. I’ve had dozens of suitors and rivals, but none this persistently dumb. This is historical. We must break him."

Hei Long nodded in solemn agreement. "Fine. But after the twentieth illusion, we go back to cultivating."

She leaned against him with a sly grin. "Seventeenth wedding will be underwater. I ordered spiritual seahorses."

Elsewhere, back in the mortal realm...

Lin Fan sat in a trench surrounded by jade diagrams, cracked scrolls, and what looked like a toaster fused with dragon horns.

He wore a helmet made of turtle shells.

"The time has come," he muttered. "She wants to break me with romance?"

He cackled maniacally, holding up a tiny vial of bubbling purple fluid.

"Let’s see how she likes Operation Memory Wipe."

From inside his bag, the old man’s voice whispered weakly, "Please don’t destroy the cosmos again..."

. . . .

In the heart of the Spirit Realm, where time flowed like syrup and the trees sometimes whispered gossip if you listened close enough, Lan Yinyin reclined atop a floating lotus bed—wearing a translucent veil and sipping plum wine out of a carved amethyst cup.

Hei Long, across from her, sat in silent cultivation. Or at least he tried to.

Because beside him floated a stack of shimmering letters.

All addressed to:

Lady Lan Yinyin, Supreme Bride of Hei Long, Queen of Petty Triumphs and Strategic Romance.

He eyed them warily.

"More letters from your... illusions?" he asked, voice as dry as a sun-baked lizard.

Lan Yinyin giggled, plucking the top envelope. "Mhm~ My alternate selves have impeccable taste. And excellent handwriting."

She cracked it open.

Dearest Me,

Congratulations on a successful wedding #12! The dress made of starlight strands? Inspired. You really outdid yourself this time.

Just wanted to say, Hei Long looked especially dashing in that obsidian robe with silver trim. Definitely worth seducing again tonight—you know, just to keep him on his toes.

Don’t forget to try the ’Spirit Cauldron’ technique if you haven’t yet. It really makes the honeymoon pop.

Yours with admiration and flirtation,You.

Lan Yinyin folded it neatly and hummed. "She’s right. That robe was something."

Hei Long opened one eye slowly. "Please tell me your letters aren’t giving... technique suggestions."

"They’re more like... enthusiastic support groups." She winked. "For myself. By myself."

More letters fluttered down like cherry blossoms.

She plucked another.

To the Ever-Lovely Me,

Can you believe we managed wedding #17 without Lin Fan fainting until the second vow? Progress!

Now, don’t get complacent. A good wife is an overwhelming one. Consider scheduling surprise affection attacks: lap-sitting, sudden kisses, possibly public declarations of love atop flying whales.

P.S. Enclose photo of Hei Long shirtless for future encouragement.

Lan Yinyin actually blushed.

Hei Long noticed. "What did that one say?"

She cleared her throat. "Nothing useful. Just, uh, whale stuff."

He raised a brow. "Should I be worried about aerial sea creatures?"

"No more than usual."

Suddenly, a soft whooshing echoed through the spirit breeze.

Another letter arrived—but this one was thicker. Bound in dream-thread and sealed with a kiss-shaped stamp.

Yinyin gasped. "This one’s from Wedding Me #25! That hasn’t even happened yet!"

She ripped it open excitedly.

To the me who still has self-control (you poor thing),

First of all—yes. Go for it. You know what I mean. Don’t hesitate. He likes it when you’re bold.

Second: Lin Fan tried to crash Wedding #24 with a llama disguised as Hei Long. Do not trust the llama.

Third: If you’re still hesitating about merging your qi cycles—STOP. I did it. I ascended mid-makeout. Totally worth it.

With overwhelming affection and foresight,You (but spicier).

Lan Yinyin was glowing.

Hei Long, meanwhile, had stood up.

"I’m going to train at the obsidian waterfall now."

She grabbed his sleeve. "What if we... trained together?"

A pause.

Then, for the first time in recent memory, Hei Long actually looked nervous.

"...Yinyin. If you keep getting seduction advice from yourself, I fear you’ll ascend through sheer flirtation."

She beamed. "That’s the plan!"

Elsewhere...

Lin Fan twitched violently in a cold sweat.

Somewhere in the depths of his alchemy cave, a letter blew in through a rip in space.

He stared at it.

To Whom It May Concern: Please stop trying to break up the best version of myself that’s ever existed. Sincerely, Lan Yinyin #19.

He screamed and bit the letter in half.

The old man’s voice muttered in the background, "This is what happens when your enemies start writing each other love notes."

. . . .

Lin Fan had finally found it.

After weeks of maddening research, stolen scrolls, haunting dreams of Lan Yinyin in bridal veils, and heated arguments with his master (who had now stopped acknowledging him in public), Lin Fan stood triumphantly over a glowing ritual circle.

"This is it..." he whispered, eyes wild with hope and caffeine-induced paranoia. "The Anti-Soul-Bonding Ritual. The one thing that can sever that cursed connection between Hei Long and Lan Yinyin."

The old man’s voice echoed from the walls of the alchemy cave, dry as parchment."Are you sure it’s not a foot fungus treatment? You’ve made that mistake before."

"No, old man! This one’s real! I cross-referenced it with eight forbidden grimoires, two banned love confession manuals, and a bootleg romance drama!"

He unfurled the last scroll with trembling fingers.

There, in ancient ink and slightly passive-aggressive footnotes, were the required materials.

Ingredients for the Anti-Soul-Bonding Ritual:

A shattered engagement ring (check).

A vow of loneliness spoken under a blood moon (done it three times).

Essence of Bitter Tea (he had a whole vat).

The tail feather of a Cosmic Chicken—last known location: The Lawbound Coop, guarded by the Twelve Sect Lawyers of Eternal Marriage.

Lin Fan’s face paled. "T-the what?!"

A spark of lightning cracked behind him as he imagined it:

A coop. Floating in space. Guarded by twelve robed figures in spiritual court uniforms, each holding pens mightier than swords—literal Legal Qi Sabers.

He gulped.

"I can handle a chicken," he muttered.

"You can’t even handle rejection," the old man muttered back.

Two Days Later...

Lin Fan stood at the edge of the Celestial Contract Courtyard, dressed in a stolen lawyer’s robe and holding a forged marriage annulment briefcase.

The walls pulsed with legal runes. Stacks of contracts hovered in the air, watching him like hawks. The ground was polished so aggressively he kept slipping on his sandals.

Ahead, within a coop of golden bars and heavenly charm arrays, was The Cosmic Chicken.

It glowed with starlight. It looked smug.

"Buk... BukLAW."

A lawyer stepped forward, his qi robe embroidered with balance scales and tiny prenups. "State your claim."

Lin Fan straightened his wig (it was on backward). "Uh... Article 97B. Subsection D of the Pre-Spousal Interruption Act."

The lawyer blinked. "That’s not real."

"...It is in the Fan Clan’s oral tradition."

"Objection—he’s a fraud!" another lawyer yelled.

"Motion to dismiss!"

"Counter-motion: Let him embarrass himself. I need a laugh."

Lin Fan panicked. "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait!"

He slapped the briefcase on the marble floor. Out spilled loose leaf scrolls, a wilted bouquet, and a glowing plush of Lan Yinyin he definitely didn’t mean to bring.

The lawyers stared.

"...That’s clearly enchanted," one muttered. "Why does it moan Hei Long’s name every ten seconds?"

The plush: "Heeeiii~ Long~💞"

Lin Fan kicked it under a bench.

"I just need one tail feather!"

The Cosmic Chicken flapped its wings and glared with divine contempt.

"Buk. Cluck you."

Five Hours Later...

Lin Fan sat in Sect Detention with three glowing restraining order bracelets on his wrists.

The old man appeared, sipping from a spiritual slushie.

"Was it worth it?"

Lin Fan looked down, defeated. "...I got a down feather. Is that enough?"

"No."

"But it’s cosmic!"

"It’s lint."

"...Maybe I can disguise it with illusion powder?"

"You used that all last week... making vision clones of Yinyin breaking up with Hei Long."

Lin Fan screamed into a cushion.

The old man gently patted his back. "Look on the bright side. You now owe twelve sects spiritual court fees. That’s a new record."

Meanwhile...

Back in the Spirit Realm, Lan Yinyin received a magical chicken feather in her mailbox with a note:

I WILL FREE YOU FROM THIS FATE.–Lin Fan

She turned it over, saw the faint purple signature of the Celestial Coop, and burst out laughing.

Hei Long walked in holding a tray of tea.

"What’s so funny?"

She handed him the note.

He stared.

Then dropped it into the teapot without a word.