Transmigrating into the world of Jade Dynasty, I was targeted by the female lead in a reverse romanc

A sharp shout rang out from outside the hall: "Who goes there!"

The voice was young, filled with surprise and anger; it belonged to a disciple guarding the temple.

Then came several muffled thuds, like heavy objects hitting something, followed by the sound of clothes tearing through the air and landing suddenly. It was very light and quick, and there were more than one person involved.

"Clang—!"

The two heavy doors of Yuqing Hall were suddenly kicked open, and several disciples dressed in Qingyun robes tumbled in, falling onto the smooth, mirror-like gold brick floor. Without uttering a sound, they fainted immediately.

The light at the doorway was blocked.

Four figures stood there against the bright sunlight outside the hall. They were neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin. Just by standing there, the air in the hall seemed to freeze instantly, pressing down heavily. The sandalwood scent seemed to be dissipated, leaving only a thick, fishy, ​​and chilling atmosphere.

On the left is a woman in white, slender and aloof, like a jade mountain. On the right is a middle-aged man in a dark green robe, tall and upright, with a refined face but unfathomable eyes. In the middle are two men: one wears a brightly colored robe, his face is deeply wrinkled like it's been carved by a knife, and his eyes are cloudy yet carry the coldness of a venomous snake; the other wears a dark gold Taoist robe, his face is withered, and his eyes are sharp as an eagle.

The four leaders of the Demonic Cult.

Yu Yangzi, Poison God, Three Wonderful Fairy, Ghost King Wanrenwang.

Their gazes swept across the hall, landing on Dao Xuan, then passing over Jiang Xiaochuan, and finally settling on Bi Yao sitting on the chair.

Biyao also turned her head and saw the four people at the door. When she saw the Ghost King, all the color drained from her face. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

The Ghost King's eyes changed instantly, filled with worry, anger, frustration, and a fleeting, forcibly suppressed panic. His fingers, gripping the folding fan, tightened almost imperceptibly.

The Poison God spoke first, his voice hoarse and dry, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, but he forced a smile on his face and cupped his hands to Dao Xuan: "Old friend Dao Xuan, it's been a hundred years since we last met, you're even better than before, your charm remains the same, congratulations."

Dao Xuan slowly opened his eyes, looked at the Poison God, a faint surprise flashing across his eyes before he regained his composure: "Poison God? You're still alive."

"Hahaha!" The Poison God threw his head back and laughed loudly, the laughter echoing in the empty hall, carrying a sense of exhilaration and sinister intent.

"It is indeed this old codger! A hundred years ago, Qingyun Mountain was defeated by your Qingyun Sword, but I survived by sheer luck and have been clinging to life ever since. To see you again today, my old friend, in your full spirit and with your improved cultivation, even surpassing your former self, truly brings me immense joy, immense joy!"

He said "gratified" but his eyes were like poisoned hooks, scraping at Dao Xuan.

As he spoke, footsteps clattered outside the palace gates, and figures flickered. Dozens more people filed in, silently dispersing and standing behind the four sect leaders. There were men and women, old and young, dressed in various styles, but each had sharp eyes, a deep and imposing aura, and carried the smell of blood and the murderous aura cultivated through long battles. The space inside the palace seemed to be instantly filled, and the light dimmed a bit.

You Ji stood at the front of the Ghost King Sect members, still dressed in black with her face veiled in black gauze. As soon as she entered, her gaze was like a nail, fixed on Jiang Xiaochuan.

Her gaze was deep and cold, like a dark river slowly flowing beneath the ice, churning with extremely complex emotions that eventually solidified into a bottomless darkness. She looked at Jiang Xiaochuan, then quickly glanced at Biyao beside her, whose face was pale and who was trembling slightly. Her hand, hanging at her side, curled slightly at the fingertips.

Qinglong stood beside her, his face solemn, his gaze shifting between Daoxuan and Jiang Xiaochuan. On the other side of the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect, Bai Duzi grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth, and glared venomously at the Qingyun members in the hall.

In the distance outside the hall, shouts of battle, the clash of weapons, explosions, and screams could be faintly heard, all mixed together like a pot of boiling, bloody porridge, growing louder and closer. Fighting had broken out all over Qingyun Mountain.

Tian Buyi, Su Ru, Shui Yue, Zeng Shuchang, Tian Yun, Shang Zhengliang... Most of the head elders of each lineage are currently defending their respective peaks or on their way here.

The Demonic Sect had timed it perfectly, taking advantage of the Qingyun group being scattered to rush straight to the Jade Purity Palace, intending to capture Dao Xuan first and then defeat them one by one.

Dao Xuan's face remained expressionless, but he gently raised his hand resting on his knee, his fingertips pointing subtly in Jiang Xiaochuan's direction. His lips didn't move, but Jiang Xiaochuan understood his meaning: Go quickly.

Jiang Xiaochuan didn't move. He stood there, looking at the dark crowd at the entrance, at the four sect leaders, at Biyao's pale face, and at Youji's unfathomable gaze. His mind raced with thoughts, like fallen leaves in a strong wind, chaotic and impossible to grasp.

His gaze fell on Biyao.

Biyao was also looking at him, her eyes wide open, empty and blank, as if she hadn't yet reacted to this sudden change. Only her slightly trembling shoulders and tightly pursed, bloodless lips betrayed her fear.

A thought, cold and clear, like an iceberg emerging from the darkness, crashed into his mind.

He suddenly moved.

He took a step forward, reached out, and pulled Biyao up from the chair, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her tightly in front of him.

Biyao let out a soft "Ah," and before she knew it, she fell into his arms. The sweet, floral scent of her youthful body instantly washed over him, mingling with her slight trembling and cool body temperature.

Jiang Xiaochuan made a grabbing motion in the air with his other hand, and the dark red God-Slaying Spear appeared silently in his hand.

With a flick of the spear tip, the cold blade gently pressed against Biyao's fair and delicate neck.

The movements were quick, steady, and without the slightest hesitation.

The hall fell silent instantly, and even the shouts of battle outside seemed to fade into the distance.

All eyes were focused on Jiang Xiaochuan and Biyao in his arms, and on the dark red, cold tip of the spear pressed against the girl's throat.

Youji froze, her eyes behind the black veil widened suddenly, she took half a step forward, then stopped abruptly, her fingers clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

The Ghost King's face darkened completely, his elegant mask shattered, and his eyes surged with shock, anger, worry, and a hint of surprise that even he himself did not notice.

The veins on the back of his hand, which was holding the folding fan, were slightly bulging.

Jiang Xiaochuan didn't look at Biyao; he didn't dare to.

He could feel the stiffness and coldness of the body in his arms, the sudden pause in her breath, the subtle, desperate trembling. He forced himself to lift his head, meeting the Ghost King's gaze. His throat was a little dry, but he kept his voice steady, even adding a touch of his usual mocking tone:

"Senior Ghost King," he began, enunciating each word clearly, "you...wouldn't want your young lady to get hurt, would you?"