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

Tears welled up again, blurring her vision. She bit her lip, nodded forcefully, then shook her head, her voice choked and broken: "Jiang Xiaochuan, you..."

"Stop talking nonsense! Let's go!"

As Biyao looked at his profile, the tangled mess in her mind was suddenly torn apart by a sharp, reckless impulse.

She suddenly raised her hand, and the Heartbreak Flower shone brightly with white light. Thousands of illusory petals descended upon Jiang Xiaochuan, who was standing right in front of her!

"Jiang Xiaochuan! You bastard!"

She screamed through her tears, but the Heartbreak Flower's attack was incredibly fierce, carrying all her grievances, anger, confusion, and despair.

Jiang Xiaochuan was completely unprepared for her sudden attack. Caught off guard and due to the close proximity, he only had time to turn to the side and take the blow with his shoulder.

"Bang!"

The white shadow crashed into his shoulder and exploded. He groaned and staggered back two steps. His clothes tore at his shoulder, revealing a patch of red and swollen skin underneath. He looked up in astonishment at Biyao.

Biyao landed a successful blow, but didn't continue. She just stood there, her hand holding the Heartbreak Flower trembling, tears streaming down her face. She glared at him, her voice hoarse: "Why didn't you fight back? Weren't you supposed to be tough? Weren't you pretty ruthless when you knocked me unconscious? What are you pretending to be now? You bastard! Liar! I hate you! I hate you so much!"

Seeing Jiang Xiaochuan stagger backward after being hit by her, his shoulder red and swollen, Biyao finally vented some of the anger that had been pent up in her heart for a long time.

But after venting, there is a deeper emptiness and confusion.

Did she really want to kill him?

She asked herself, and the answer was no. All she knew was that when she saw him in front of her, when she saw him return the magic weapon to her, when she saw him tell her to leave quickly, the wound in her heart that he had personally pierced seemed... not to hurt so much anymore.

But she hated him, hated that he lied to her, hated that he used her, hated that he made her bleed.

Her hand holding the flower of sorrow trembled, tears streamed down her face, and she uttered the harshest curses, yet her gaze never left his face.

What if he had dodged it? What if he had fought back?

Will she be able to give up then?

But he didn't; he just stood there and took the hit.

"That bastard," she cursed inwardly, unable to even bring herself to hate him.

She cursed and cried at the same time, like a child who had suffered a great injustice and finally found an outlet for her anger.

When Lu Xueqi saw that Biyao had actually injured Jiang Xiaochuan, the killing intent in her eyes instantly surged to its peak!

She ignored Jiang Xiaochuan's disapproving gaze, suddenly rising high and taking seven steps through the air! She raised the Tianya sword high into the sky, its blade humming and trembling, drawing upon the thunderclouds of the heavens!

Her face was solemn, she was chanting incantations, and her body was surrounded by azure lightning, echoing the muffled thunder coming from the sky!

Divine Sword Thunder Control Technique!

The Ghost King had been watching this area closely. When he saw Lu Xueqi using the Qingyun Sect's Mountain-Suppressing Technique at this time and place, with her target Biyao, his expression changed drastically!

He could no longer care about fighting Dao Xuan. With a fierce shout, he shot out like lightning and instantly blocked Bi Yao's path!

At the same time, he made a hand seal, and an ancient bronze cauldron flew out from his sleeve. It grew as soon as it saw the wind and instantly became the size of a house. The cauldron was covered with ferocious ancient beast patterns and exuded a primordial and fierce aura. It was the Fulong Cauldron!

The Fulong Cauldron had just grown large and was hanging above the heads of the Ghost King and Biyao. In the thunderclouds above, a terrifying bolt of lightning, as thick as a bucket and blindingly white, crashed down with a deafening roar, drawn by the tip of the Tianya Sword!

"BOOM—!!!"

A deafening explosion! Blazing white lightning struck the Dragon-Subduing Cauldron with tremendous force!

The cauldron trembled violently, emitting a dull, painful hum. Its surface shimmered wildly, and the ancient beast patterns seemed to come alive, twisting and struggling.

The Ghost King groaned, his face turning deathly pale, and a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. But he gritted his teeth and held on, his hand seals unchanged, desperately supporting the Rising Dragon Cauldron.

What a wonderful Lu Xueqi!

What a magnificent Tianya!

Upon entering Shangqing, he used the Divine Sword Thunder Control Technique to injure the Ghost King who was wielding the Dragon Subduing Cauldron!

The aftershocks of the thunder scattered, blasting several charred craters into the surrounding ground. Several demonic sect disciples who were nearby were reduced to ashes before they could even scream.

Jiang Xiaochuan was thrown back a few steps by the shockwave. He looked at Lu Xueqi, who stood in the air with her sword in hand, her clothes fluttering, like a thunder god, and then at the Ghost King below, whose mouth was bleeding, yet who was desperately protecting Biyao. He was shocked.

……

I don't know how long the fight lasted.

The sky darkened, the earth shrouded in darkness. The Jade Purity Palace had long since lost its roof, leaving only a few charred pillars standing stubbornly. Corpses were scattered everywhere on the ground—the remains of Qingyun disciples and demonic cultivators—mixed together, their blood flowing like rivers, congealing into dark red scabs. The air was thick with an overwhelming stench of blood, burnt flesh, and the pungent smell of lingering magic.

There aren't many people left standing.

On Qingyun's side, Dao Xuan's robe was torn and his aura was slightly disordered, but his eyes were still sharp. Tian Buyi, Shuiyue, Cangsong and other chief elders were all injured and pale, but their hands holding their swords were very steady.

The young disciples—Tian Ling'er, Zhang Xiaofan, Lin Jingyu, Qi Hao, Zeng Shushu…—were all injured, supporting each other, their eyes filled with the exhaustion of surviving a disaster and lingering killing intent.

On the Demonic Sect's side, the losses were even more severe. Of the dozens of experts who came with great force, fewer than twenty are still standing.

Of the four sect leaders, Ghost King was injured, Poison God and Jade Yangzi were weak, and only Fairy Sanmiao was slightly better, but her face was also gloomy.

Yu Yangzi surveyed the battlefield, looking at the corpses of his fellow disciples scattered on the ground, and then at the Qingyun group, whose top combat strength remained despite the significant casualties, and who now had Lu Xueqi, a cultivator at the Shangqing Realm. His eyes shifted, and he knew that he could not defeat Qingyun today. If the fight continued, even if he could defeat Qingyun, the elites of the Demonic Sect would likely be wiped out.

He gritted his teeth and forced out a reluctant roar from his throat: "Retreat!"

The members of the Demonic Sect had long harbored the intention to retreat. Upon hearing the order, they felt as if they had been granted a pardon. They helped up their seriously injured comrades, transformed into streaks of light, and fled hastily down the mountain. They had come with great momentum, but left in a sorry state.

Before fleeing, the Poison God turned back and glared fiercely at Cangsong. The resentment and killing intent in his eyes were almost tangible.

The Ghost King gave Jiang Xiaochuan a deep look, his gaze complex. He then glanced at Biyao, who was being supported by Youji and was still crying blankly. He sighed, turned around, and disappeared in a black light. Before leaving, the Fairy of Three Wonders lingered on Jiang Xiaochuan for a moment, her eyes strange, before she also drifted away.

The sounds of fighting finally gradually subsided.

Only the sound of the wind remained, howling through the ruins, stirring up the ashes and blood on the ground.

Jiang Xiaochuan's tense nerves suddenly relaxed.

A tremendous sense of exhaustion and weakness surged up like a tide, instantly overwhelming him. His vision blurred, his ears rang, and the sharp pains that radiated throughout his body made him groan involuntarily. His legs buckled, and he was about to collapse.

A pair of arms reached out in time and caught his sliding body steadily.

It was Lu Xueqi. She was also covered in blood, and her moon-white Taoist robe was almost unrecognizable. Her face was pale and tired from the fierce battle, but her eyes were surprisingly bright, fixed on his face, filled with undisguised worry and lingering fear.

She carefully held him in her arms, letting him lean on her shoulder. His body was heavy, damp and cold with blood and sweat, but she held him firmly, her arms tight, as if afraid that if she let go, he would disappear.

Jiang Xiaochuan's consciousness was somewhat hazy. He felt the familiar, cool scent of cedar mixed with the smell of blood lingering around his nose.

He struggled to open his eyes, meeting Lu Xueqi's worried gaze so close to his. He forced a smile, wanting to say something, but only managed a muffled whisper.

Looking at his pale face, his tightly closed and slightly trembling eyelashes, and the bloodstains still wet at the corner of his mouth, Lu Xueqi felt as if her heart was being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, the pain making her gasp for breath.

She raised her other hand, wanting to touch his face, but her fingertips hovered in mid-air, trembling slightly. In the end, she only very lightly, very lightly, placed her hand on his sweaty forehead, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to his face.

Tian Ling'er stood not far away, also injured, with tears on her face.

She looked at Jiang Xiaochuan, who was being held tightly in Lu Xueqi's arms, and at the undisguised, intense affection and heartache in Lu Xueqi's eyes. Her lips moved, and she wanted to go over, but her feet felt like they were made of lead and she couldn't lift them.

The joy that had risen in her heart from surviving the ordeal was instantly overwhelmed by a deeper, cold bitterness. She turned her face away, bit her lip hard, and forced back the tears welling up in her eyes.

Zhang Xiaofan held the Yuanlei Sword, standing beside Tian Ling'er, his gaze also falling on the two embracing. His face was expressionless, only his fingers gripping the sword hilt tightened, loosened, and tightened again.

Finally, he lowered his head, silently turned around, and began to help his senior brother Song Daren collect the remains of his fellow disciple.

Ruins, bloodshed, the setting sun like blood.

Lu Xueqi held the unconscious Jiang Xiaochuan, sitting motionless beside the charred broken pillar.

The wind blew her disheveled hair and brushed against her blood-stained yet still exquisitely beautiful face.

She looked down at the peaceful sleeping face of the person in her arms, at his slightly furrowed brows, his eyes as deep as a cold pool, where something was slowly settling and solidifying.

In the distance, the surviving Qingyun disciples began to silently clean up the battlefield, treat the wounded, and collect the remains of their fellow disciples. No one spoke; only suppressed sobs and heavy footsteps could be heard.

Oh, it’s getting dark.