NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!
Chapter 24: Understanding Tea

Chapter 24: Understanding Tea

It wasn’t long before the elder returned.

In his hands, he held a small porcelain cup.

Yet what sat within it was anything but ordinary.

The liquid shimmered like molten gold, its surface swirling slowly, thick with spiritual energy.

It radiated a gentle but undeniable heat, like a sun compressed into liquid form.

Even from a distance, many of the disciples could feel their Qi reacting, their cores tightening instinctively in defense.

The whispers around the teahouse had died long before the elder stepped through, but now, as he walked forward with steps, a silence fell so heavy that even the wind dared not disturb it.

Every eye followed that cup.

Some inner disciples leaned in without realizing, their bodies tense.

A few outer disciples stopped breathing entirely.

Even the servers had frozen in place, holding trays mid-step, watching the moment unfold.

The elder finally reached Hei Long’s table and, without a word, gently placed the cup down before him.

A faint steam curled from the rim, laced with strands of golden Qi.

The aroma that emerged was unlike anything most in the room had ever smelled—rich and ancient, as if the tea carried the memory of dragons.

Hei Long looked down at it, his expression calm.

The elder gave a respectful half-bow and stepped back, folding his arms across his chest.

His expression was impossible to read—neither skeptical nor encouraging, but watchful, deeply watchful, as though he were silently evaluating not just Hei Long’s body, but his soul.

"Enjoy, sir," the elder said simply.

No one else spoke.

Not a single chopstick clattered, not a breath was wasted.

The entire teahouse had become a sanctum of anticipation.

Even the leaves outside had gone still, the heat in the air coiling around the cup like a dragon protecting its treasure.

And then Hei Long moved.

With a deliberate grace, he lifted the cup with both hands.

The warmth of the porcelain seeped into his fingers, a warning—this is not for the weak.

But Hei Long didn’t flinch.

He brought the cup closer to his lips.

As he did, the tension in the room grew unbearable.

Some disciples squinted.

Others looked away entirely, unable to watch what they believed would be a man incinerate himself from the inside out.

A few tightly clenched their fists, expecting screaming, collapse, blood.

Even Ji Yao’s gaze narrowed even more, her expression sharpening as she leaned forward, the air around her going still.

Her usual indifference had slipped, if only a little.

And then, Hei Long drank.

The golden liquid slid across his tongue, impossibly smooth, carrying with it a weight and heat that struck deep into his body.

The first swallow hit like a lightning bolt to his core.

His Qi resisted—clashing violently with the foreign heat, struggling to contain it.

For a brief moment, it felt like his organs were being branded from within, like tiny suns were blooming behind his ribcage.

A single droplet of sweat slid down Hei Long’s temple.

But then, as quickly as the resistance came, it passed.

His cultivation base surged forward, rising to meet the challenge.

His inner Qi didn’t just contain the heat—it embraced it.

The pain turned to warmth.

The warmth turned to bliss.

Hei Long’s meridians opened slightly wider.

His spiritual sea rippled with newfound energy.

It was as though the tea had not just been accepted—it had been welcomed.

Hei Long calmly set the now-empty cup down on the table, not a single tremor in his hand.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, his breath glowing faintly gold for the briefest of moments before fading.

Then Hei Long turned his head toward the elder, meeting his eyes.

"Thank you for the drink, Senior," he said, voice even, clear.

The elder didn’t respond right away.

His eyes were wide, not with shock—but with something much rarer.

Respect.

It was the look of a man who had seen a thousand fools try and die—and now, had just witnessed something completely different.

"...It’s been many years since a young man like you sat in this teahouse and drank that tea without needing a healer afterward," the elder finally said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful:

"You’ve earned the right to drink here any time you wish."

A quiet murmur spread through the teahouse, disbelief rippling through the crowd.

Someone whispered, "He really did it..."

Another disciple muttered, "He didn’t even cough..."

Even Ji Yao’s fingers—elegant and still—curled slightly over the rim of her cup, betraying a trace of thoughtfulness.

Her eyes lingered on Hei Long longer than they had anyone in years.

Hei Long didn’t acknowledge any of it.

He simply gave a slight nod and folded his hands together on the table, letting the aftertaste of the tea settle deep in his core.

For Hei Long—

It tasted better because Lin Fan wouldn’t be getting this moment.

Now the Saintess had fully noticed him, not the protagonist.

And that changed everything.

"Judging by your reaction, you understand the importance of tea—and perhaps, a bit more?" the elder said as he slowly approached.

He lowered himself onto a chair, settling into a cross-legged position.

Hei Long’s eyes didn’t leave the cup before him. He gently rotated it in his hand, as if appreciating the shape, the warmth, the stillness:

"Why, of course. Tea is not just a drink... it is cultivation in liquid form."

The elder raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt.

"In our world," Hei Long continued:

"tea is a reflection of Dao. Every step of its preparation—from the harvesting of the leaves, to the boiling of water, to the precise temperature and steeping time—demands patience, intention, and harmony. That is the foundation of cultivation, is it not?"

Hei Long gently exhaled through his nose, as though savoring a memory rather than just the scent:

"There is qi in tea, Senior. Not merely spiritual energy, but the qi of the earth, the mountains, the wind, and the rain. When one drinks tea brewed with understanding, they do not just hydrate the body—they nourish the soul."

Hei Long raised the cup, pausing just before his lips:

"To drink tea without awareness is to waste a good brew. But to drink tea with a clear heart and tranquil mind... ah, then it becomes a dialogue between Heaven and man."

The elder’s eyes widened, his mouth gaping open. "..."

"Besides," Hei Long added, his lips curling into a more playful smile:

"Tea reveals character. The impatient scald their tongues. The prideful overbrew. Only those with a calm mind and an enduring heart can extract its true essence."

The elder slowly nodded. "You speak as if tea is a mirror."

"Is it not?" Hei Long said, finally sipping:

"The taste tells you exactly who you are in that moment. Bitter when your heart is clouded. Sweet when your mind is still. Fragrant when your spirit aligns with the Dao."

After a long pause—

The elder let out a quiet chuckle:

"You may just be the first young person to truly understand tea..."