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I really, really didn't mean to confess to the Heroines!

Shen Tian is a man of many talents. One not to be messed with, mind you. Whether it be his brilliant talent, or unmatched shamelessness, there were few that could compete with his ingenuity. However, with the sudden appearance of a Diary that gave out random rewards according to the things he writes withing a diary, the man slowly falls under the temptation of addiction! Unfortunately for him, the many people who despised his existence may slowly come to fall upon his charms. However, it was anything but a heaven-sent situation for him. After all, nothing is more scarier than a dogfight between Yanderes... * * * Check out: The Heroines and the Mob This is an original novel, not a translated one.

athanasious · Eastern
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2 Chs

Dear Diary. My Master is Scary

In his life, there was only one person Shen Tian truly hesitated to fight against.

An opponent, that not only he himself was forced to recognise, but also the sect leaders all around the Mortal Plane.

The Sect Leader of the Heavenly Sword Sect.

A demon in the shape of a human.

A cultivator who's cruelty knew no bounds.

As well as...Shen Tian's Master.

She was a woman that many feared. Her cruelty, knowing no bounds despite being a part of the Orthodox Side. Unbefitting of what was expected of someone with her status. Alas, she never did take those traditions to heart. Perhaps that is why she is one of the few that reigned at the apex.

The Apotheosis.

Putting aside the unnecessary compliments about her prowess, the boy focused on the task at hand. Gazing the floating figure of the diary languidly. He stood there for a while, silently. It remained so for a while too, all until he felt a droplet of water land on his hands. Not taking long, for the pour of water to drench his clothes that stuck to his lean figure. His hair, that cascaded down to his shoulders. The coldness, awaking his mind that fell long asleep. Finally rushing in ideas as if it was an encounter at enlightenment, an opportunity.

Thus, with nothing but a brush on paper. The lonesome man, begun to weave his story. His experiences, with wholehearted aspirations.

[The season of flowers. The month of roses. I sit here upon the highest peak, lamenting the fate of going against Heaven's Will.]

[Truly, it was a terrible day for rain. It was a clear sign of misfortune. An omen of what is yet to come. My heart aches for the incoming future, deciding the fate of whether my presence will still grace this humble earth.]

[I was suddenly reminded of that certain day. The month, where that insane old hag assaulted my fragile body with her swift fingers. Shredding my purity into pieces. My clothes, into the sizes of ants!]

[Indeed, it was humiliating. Traumatising, even. My health, decorating due to the sheer embrassment. An unfortunate day, indeed.]

[Alas, luckily for the world, the lonesome Shen Tian wasn't an opponent who would give up that easily. With no one but myself, willing to stand up against her tyranny, I left her home with a heavy heart. Unbothered by this minor loss. As a wise sage once said, she may have won the battle, but she has yet to win the war! Even if I can't beat her currently with a sword, my verbal lashes are second to none.]

[It truly is a pity. If only my demonic master wasn't so strict and uptight, she would be quite the beautiful woman. Even with her stingy personality, she definitely reigns at the top in terms of beauty. Alas, unfortunately she only seeks loneliness and strength. Chasing the way of the Dao.]

[However, I know very well that those are meaningless excuses. What's the point in chasing the Dao, if you are still a seventy year old virgin? Dao this, Dao that, how about you get a Daoist Partner instead. Rather then venting your unjust anger on this poor disciple...]

Finishing his rather depressing monologue toward his diary, the man immediately closed the diary. The book, soon vanishing as if it never appeared in the first place.

Clapping his hands together, Shen Tian lifted himself up. Hands behind his back, as he enjoyed the serenity and peace he felt from shedding his innermost thoughts. Finding himself, quite a bit lighter.

[Aquired Intermediate Painting Talent.]

Alongside the alluring melody that lingered within his ears, granting him a new hobby to pass time, the youth let out a satisfied sigh.

"Truly, this diary really is my life saving grace." With words flowing to acknowledge his fortune, the man walked toward the edge of the cliff. "I've been here for a long time, after all. The Heavenly Sword Sect better have some unruly disciples that I can...discipline. After all, it is the duty of the senior brother to take care of his juniors! Especially their weapons."

With his gaze, piercing through the fading fog and towering woods, the man let a whimsical smirk grace his features. A mischievous light, enchanting his golden eyes that seemed to light up akin to torches.

"I think it's about time to remind everyone that Shen Tian had finished his cultivation."

The youngest genius of the Immortal Era, had reached the Middle Stage of Golden Core after all.

* * *

[Heavenly Sword Sect, Sect Master's Abode.]

Upon a throne of marble, sat a figure enclosed in a sea of mist. Her flowing iridescent ebony hair, resembling a sea of obsidian cascaded to frame her beautiful face. Her plump lips, exhaling periodically to emit a breath of clouds, that affirmed the icy state of the room itself. Face alit, by only the sombre glow of the ethereal moon.

Xue Mai.

The Sect Master of the Heavenly Sword Sect, as well as the demonic hag, that Shen Tian was aggrieved at. That was the identity of the woman, who's every existence represented the nature of the sea. The coldness of ice.

With the seconds that moved similarly to the grains of sand that danced alongside the wind, the woman eventually fluttered her long eyelashes. Signalling, the inevitable wakening.

It didn't take long for the atmosphere to begin jittering. To shake, as the once desolate aura of the woman began to rise. To pulverise, as the pressure surrounding her began to increase at an alarming pace.

With the slow opening of her eyelids, that revealed orbs of sapphire reminiscent of the ocean under the night, her aura began to stabilise. To become steady, as she exhaled one last long breathe of air.

Her blank and expressionless face remained frozen, even when she broke through to the Immortal Emperor stage. Or in her case, Empress. Undoubtedly cementing her position as one of the Top Ten being within the Mortal Plane. The epitome of power.

Yet, even then she felt no joy. No glee, as if it was unremarkable. Simply, a daily occurrence. Worthy of no celebration. It was as if she was a doll. A being, with no desires or emotions. A face, she expressed to the world. A facade, to show no weakness.

That was the price she had to pay, to remain at the peak.

To keep her sect safe. The elders within it. The cultivators, who studied under them. And most of all, to keep him safe. The man, that somehow illicited the urge within her to possess. To guide.

Her disciple.

It was only when she thought of her dear student, that the once icy look that marred her features began to melt. Her steadfast, and single-minded eyes, revealing softness beyond her comprehension. A small smile, tugging at her lips as she felt like she could only be herself when she was solitary. In isolation.

However, that smile that expressed her joy and jubilation at the thought of him - halted. Vanished, as a book slowly took form in front of her. Before her.

Her eyes narrowed at the bizarre sight of a diary. Caution, bubbling within her like water in fire. Wariness, filling her eyes akin to a hunter to their prey. Vigilance, filling her entire being.

"Hmm?"

Her first thought was naturally an enemy attack. After all, who wouldn't be bemused at the sudden appearance of pages, wrapped within a cover that eluded elegance and dignity? Especially since there were many people who were after her life.

The thought of a being, that surpassed the prowess and spiritual awareness of an Immortal Empress did stupefy her quite a bit. Revealing, that their abilities exceeded her own. By a large margin at that. However, even if it was a being that transcended even herself, she would not hesitate to fight. To battle. Call it the pride of a fool, or warrior, it was simply her way of living. An ideal, that Shen Tian took to heart.

Why else would she take that endearing boy as her disciple if it wasn't for a trait that connected the both of them?

Thus she waited. Her aura condensing to create an armour that surrounded her lithe figure. Her hands, reaching for her sword that lay soundlessly beside, as she bided. Patient, for an attack that never arrived.

It was only after a short period of attentiveness that Xue Ming finally began to analyse the tome before her. Eyes glancing at the words written with prudence. The refined and sophisticated style of words enchanting and surprising her slightly, which only served to increase her skepticism.

However, when she finally processed what these writings meant, her brain immediately fried. Bewildered, as the sight of [Shen Tian's Diary], filled her vision to the brim. Puzzled, as to why her disciple's diary would find itself here.

Of course, she didn't immediately believe it. She was no fool, or stranger, to the world of cunningness and treachery. Experiencing it many times before, she concluded it to be an emotional ploy to make her descend her caution and guard. To say the least, it worked very well. That she had to admit.

The old proverb that curiosity killed the cat, remaining true even after eons.

She somehow couldn't resist the slight possibility, that this book may hold the truths to Shen Tian's heart. His most inner thoughts, that revealed all his feelings and thoughts. A foreign sensation filling her stomach, as she thought of the chance of him writing about her. She just simply couldn't discard it after thinking about it reasonably.

Thus, she just reached for it.

Opening the doors, that lead her and many others to the mind of the renowned genius. The said man, may or may not, face the wrath of women who he had unreasonably dissed.

Alas, that's a story for another time.