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

Far from the Incense Valley, there was a mountain stream with the sound of rushing water, which was quite peaceful.

Jiang Xiaochuan lay on a large blue stone slab, smoothed by the water flow. His upper body was naked, and there were several red marks on his back and shoulders. Some places were broken and bleeding. He looked rather pitiful.

He grimaced, his forehead pressed against the cold stone surface, hissing as he gasped for breath.

There was someone squatting nearby.

She held a small, emerald-green jade bottle in her hand, and with her fingertips, she picked out some cool ointment and gently applied it to the wounds on Jiang Xiaochuan's back. Her movements were very light, but the sensation of the ointment touching the broken skin still sent a shiver down Jiang Xiaochuan's spine.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch... Xiaobai, be gentle!" Jiang Xiaochuan cried out, his voice muffled by the stone.

"I'm sorry," the woman called Xiaobai paused, her voice soft, like the mist of a mountain stream, "I... I didn't control my strength. That was a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding, what a huge misunderstanding." Jiang Xiaochuan gasped for breath, recalling the earth-shattering pounce in the Xuanhuo Altar and the heat wave from the falling rocks, and his back ached even more.

"You've been imprisoned for over three hundred years, yet your strength hasn't diminished at all."

Xiao Bai pursed her lips and didn't reply, but softened her movements a little more, her fingertips brushing against the boy's taut back muscles. The touch was warm, and the Xuanhuo Mirror hung on his chest. Even from a distance, one could feel a warm sensation emanating from it.

She lowered her eyes and carefully applied the ointment.

The body looked thin, but the lines were smooth and the muscles were well-defined, the marks left by years of training. However, several fresh scars were now visible, which ruined the symmetry.

The ointment was applied, clear and bright, with a herbal scent. It slowly seeped in, and Jiang Xiaochuan's gasps gradually subsided, though his body remained slightly tense.

"Alright." She withdrew her hand, plugged the medicine bottle, and placed it next to Jiang Xiaochuan.

Jiang Xiaochuan breathed a sigh of relief, slowly sat up, grabbed his own black outer robe that was folded neatly beside him, and haphazardly draped it over his shoulders.

He didn't rush to put it on. He simply gathered his clothes, sat on the stone slab, bent one leg, casually rested his hand on his knee, and reached for his waist with the other hand. He then pulled out a water pouch from his storage space, uncorked it, and took a swig. It wasn't wine; it was water.

"I said," he swallowed the water, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and turned to look at the woman beside him. The light was dim, but it was enough to see her face clearly.

It was an extremely beautiful face, with soft lips, alluring eyes, a delicate nose, and graceful eyebrows. Every feature was perfectly proportioned, and together they created a breathtaking beauty. However, between those eyebrows, there was a lingering, faint weariness and vicissitude, like dust settling in an ancient well—still clear, but devoid of vitality.

"noob?"

Jiang Xiaochuan called her, his tone a mix of uncertainty and amusement.

"You're really called Xiaobai? A nine-tailed celestial fox, just because you're a white fox, you're called Xiaobai? That's so... casual... so corny!"

Xiaobai, that's the name she gave herself.

Jiang Xiaochuan asked her, and she looked at her snow-white fox body, which was bound by the Xuanhuo Chains and covered in wounds, and said, "Let's call her Xiaobai."

Xiao Bai turned her head and glanced at him. Her charming eyes looked particularly deep in the dim light, like two bottomless pools.

She was silent for a moment before speaking, her voice still soft and calm: "A name is just a title. You've seen my true form as a white fox, so there's nothing wrong with calling me Little White."

She paused, the corners of her mouth curving slightly before quickly returning to normal: "As for you, Jiang Xiaochuan, your name... isn't exactly elegant either."

Jiang Xiaochuan choked, touched his nose, and said somewhat awkwardly, "That was... given to me by my master. He said a humble name would make a child easier to raise."

Xiao Bai remained noncommittal, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment before shifting away to look into the deeper darkness.

"Little Chuan Chuan," she suddenly said, her voice soft, as if talking to herself, "from now on, I'll call you Little Chuan Chuan."

Jiang Xiaochuan's lips twitched: "This form of address... feels weird."

"I'd like to," Xiaobai said, her tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

Jiang Xiaochuan was taken aback and turned back sullenly.

"Fine, you're beautiful, so you're right."

A night breeze blew by, carrying with it ashes and a faint, distant smell of burning. He pulled his coat tighter and suddenly asked, "Where will we go from here?"

Xiaobai didn't answer immediately. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on them. Her pale white dress was piled up at her feet, like a flower that had quietly bloomed in the night, but was now somewhat withered. After a long while, she whispered, "I don't know."

"Why not go find the Six-Tails and the Three-Tails?" Jiang Xiaochuan asked. "They should still be alive. They should be deep in the Hundred Thousand Mountains of Southern Xinjiang. That place... although chaotic, it's easy to hide there."

Xiaobai remained silent for a long time, so long that Jiang Xiaochuan thought she wouldn't answer. Only then did she gently exhale, her breath condensing into a small cloud of white mist in the cool night breeze before quickly dissipating.

"I won't bother them anymore. It's been several years. Maybe... the little foxes have already had a litter by now."

After she finished speaking, she chuckled softly. The chuckle was short and light, and though it fell into the quiet night, it inexplicably made people feel a pang of sadness.

Jiang Xiaochuan looked at her. The lines of her profile appeared soft and fragile in the dim light. Her long eyelashes drooped, casting a small shadow under her eyelids.

He looked away, reached into his pocket, rummaged around, and pulled something out.

It was a jade ring, about the size of a palm, with a warm, smooth surface and a faint dark reddish-brown color.

In the center of the jade ring is a small, mirror-like, crimson-colored thin piece. In the center of the thin piece is carved an ancient-looking flame totem. On both sides of the jade ring are two red silk tassels.

At this moment, the jade ring was in his palm, radiating a gentle and steady warmth. The warmth was not scalding, but like a handful of warm sunshine in winter, seeping into his arm through his cool palm.

Mysterious Fire Mirror.

……

The sky over southern Xinjiang has been overcast for quite some time.

Ever since that night, when a muffled thunderous roar came from the direction of Incense Valley, and the ground shook, the sky has never been bright again.

It wasn't dark clouds, but a murky, reddish-yellow haze, heavy and oppressive overhead, as if the sky had been burned through and patched up with a dirty cloth, still dripping with pus.

Outsiders can't say exactly what happened in Incense Valley.

All that was known was that the commotion was terrifying, with flames shooting into the sky for half the night, and the ominous red could be seen from a hundred miles away. Later, Fenxiang Valley itself said it was an anomaly of the earth's fire, a natural disaster that could not be stopped.

But who would believe that? Could a natural disaster cause such a huge commotion? Besides, Fenxiang Valley has been guarding the Xuanhuo Altar and manipulating flames for hundreds of years. Could they really let their own earth fire blow off their roof?

Rumors spread silently, like the humid miasma of southern Xinjiang.

Some say it's the appearance of a rare treasure that triggered the earth's veins; others say it's the Incense Valley refining some evil concoction and suffered a backlash; even more outrageous, some say the Valley Master Yun Yilan was killed by one of his disciples, and things are currently in chaos.

Fenxiang Valley naturally denied it vehemently. When the disciples from Qingyun Sect and Tianyin Temple came to inquire, they served them fine tea and water, put on a smiling face, and insisted that it was an accident.

But when they turned around and faced the suddenly increasing number of peeking figures on the southern border, they became more ruthless. Open and covert battles raged, and many unfamiliar faces entered the Ten Thousand Mountains and never came out again.

The disciples in the valley poured out in droves, scattering into the vast mountains and forests like scattered beans. Each of them had a tense expression and eyes like hooks, searching for something or someone, no one knew.

This land, which had always been wild and sparsely populated, suddenly became strangely lively. Every now and then, streaks of light, some good and some evil, would flash across the sky, and many travelers with hurried steps and wary eyes appeared on the ground.

In the air, besides the damp, earthy smell, there seemed to be something else, a restless, impending stormy scent.