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

Since then, Biyao and her group have traveled to the southwest, taking on seven minor demonic sects in succession. Some resisted stubbornly, but she cut them down, while others surrendered and were incorporated into the Ghost King Sect. She was ruthless and decisive, leaving rivers of blood in her wake.

Strangely, she was only ruthless towards those of the demonic path. If she encountered righteous disciples or kidnapped civilians, she would stop and even help them.

Later, the news gradually spread.

It is said that the Ghost King Sect has produced a "mad young master" who is ruthless and kills without hesitation, but he turns a blind eye to righteous disciples.

It is also said that she often stares blankly in a certain direction, with a dazed look in her eyes, as if she is waiting for someone. Some people also say that she is ruthless when she kills, but infatuated when she doesn't kill, and that she is a strange person.

Thus, the name "Foolish Young Master" spread.

Some people also call her "Blood Prince" because she kills without mercy and draws blood.

Inside the Ghost King Sect, the Ghost King listened to these rumors in silence.

Standing beside him, Youji whispered, "Miss has lost weight again these past few months."

The Ghost King grunted in response, looking out the window at the continuous mountain range shrouded in mist, making it difficult to see clearly.

"She's pushing herself," the Ghost King said, his voice deep, "pushing herself to become stronger, pushing herself to be ruthless, pushing herself... to forget that person."

Youji remained silent.

"But I can't forget," the Ghost King continued, a hint of weariness in his voice. "The more you force me, the more I remember. I'm ruthless when I kill because I'm suffering inside; I'm infatuated when I don't kill because that person in my heart is always lingering in my mind."

He turned to look at You Ji: "Tell me, if I kill that brat, what will she do?"

Youji was startled and looked up: "Sect Master, no! Miss, she..."

"I know," the Ghost King interrupted her, giving a bitter smile, "she will hate me for the rest of her life, and perhaps, she will even follow him in death."

He walked to the table, placed his hand on it, and his knuckles turned white.

"But I won't kill her. Watching her torture herself like this, I feel..." He paused, not finishing his sentence.

Youji lowered her eyes and whispered, "Sect Master, perhaps... perhaps that person also has feelings for Miss."

The Ghost King remained silent.

After a long while, he slowly exhaled, his voice soft and tinged with a deep, uneasy feeling:

"So what if he has her? So what if he doesn't? The righteous and the demonic paths are not separated by mountains or seas, but by an insurmountable chasm. If he chooses her, he will betray Qingyun and be condemned by the whole world. If she chooses him, she will abandon the Ghost King Sect and cut herself off from the demonic path."

"This world has no place for them."

Outside the window, clouds and mist surged, obscuring the mountains and the sky.

……

The mountain is very deep, so deep that you can't see the sky when you look up.

The tree canopies overlapped one after another, the tall ones pressing down on the short ones, and the short ones supporting the tall ones, densely weaving a green canopy that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Sunlight filtered through the layers of leaves, casting countless sparse, scattered rays of light.

The trees were tall, their trunks shooting straight upwards, too thick for two or three people to encircle. Vines hung down from the canopy, some as thick as a child's arm, others as thin as a finger. Some were dead, hanging stiffly in mid-air, while others were still alive, wet and slippery, adorned with a few wilted leaves, swaying gently in the wind.

They hung haphazardly in the woods, like green fishing nets that were torn and patched again, completely obscuring the road ahead.

The ground was covered with a thick layer of fallen leaves, accumulated over countless years. The air was filled with the damp smell of decaying leaves, mixed with the earthy odor and a very faint, indescribable sweetness, as if something was slowly fermenting and rotting underground.

Jiang Xiaochuan walked ahead.

He held a twig he had casually folded in his hand, neither too thick nor too thin, just enough to clear away the vines blocking his way.

Xiao Bai followed behind, three steps away from him.

She was dressed in white, which made her stand out in the dark green forest.

The two had been traveling through these Hundred Thousand Mountains for a year. In addition to ferocious beasts, there were also alien races in these mountains.

The alien races looked strange. Some looked like fish, with their gills flaring up and down, their bodies slippery and covered in scales. Some looked like bears, with broad shoulders and thick waists, capable of snapping a tree as thick as a bowl with a single slap. Some looked like tigers, with fangs sticking out of their lips, yellowish and covered in foul-smelling saliva.

They pounce on people as soon as they see them, their eyes red like two burning embers that can't be extinguished, emitting muffled, sticky roars, and drooling from the corners of their mouths dripping onto fallen leaves, creating wisps of white smoke.

Jiang Xiaochuan showed no mercy. He killed one if one came, and killed two if two came.

Sometimes the Ink Snow Sword is used.

A flash of blue light appeared, extremely cold and thin, like a piece of moonlight suddenly drawn into a thread, drawing an arc in the air.

As the arc passed, a head silently flew up, spun halfway in mid-air, face up, its blood-red eyes still holding the ferocity of its attack, its mouth still open, saliva dripping from its fangs, before crashing heavily onto the fallen leaves, bouncing once, rolling twice, and being caught by a clump of bushes, lying there crookedly, its eyes slowly turning grayish-white.

Blood gushed from the severed neck, shooting high like a burst of red fireworks, sprinkling onto the leaves and dripping down. The body was still standing, swaying twice before collapsing to the ground with a thud, kicking up a shower of leaves.

Sometimes they used the God-Slaying Spear.

The spear shot out like a dragon, its tip piercing through the chest and emerging from the back, bringing with it a cloud of blood and bits of flesh.

Without sheathing his gun, he held the still convulsing body, flicked his wrist, and flung it away. The body flew out and crashed into a tree trunk with a "crack." The tree broke, and so did the man, who slid limply down, leaving a dark red trail of blood on the bark.

Sometimes he doesn't use any weapons, just his fists.

A punch landed on his chest, the sound of bones cracking muffled. Another punch landed on his face, his nose bridge collapsing cleanly, like a ripe fruit being crushed underfoot. His eyeballs popped out, red and white splattering everywhere—on his fist, on his clothes, on his face.

He fought very fiercely.

He wasn't bloodthirsty; his eyes were cold, his face was calm, and his breathing was steady.

But every punch he threw was filled with a fierce force, as if he had a fire burning inside him that had been burning for a very long time, causing pain to his internal organs, yet he had nowhere to vent it.

Xiao Bai watched from the side.

She leaned against a tree trunk, her arms crossed over her chest, her white clothes spotless amidst the carnage.

She watched him kill, watched him fight, watched him covered in blood, without blinking. Her eyes were calm, showing neither excitement, fear, nor disgust.

She was a nine-tailed celestial fox who had lived for thousands of years and had witnessed far more and far more brutal killings than this. But when her gaze fell upon him, something was added beneath her calm demeanor.

Soft and gentle, like water plants at the bottom of a spring, floating quietly.

After he finished fighting and killing everyone, she straightened up from the tree trunk, walked over, took out a handkerchief from her sleeve, and raised her hand to wipe his face.

The handkerchief was white and made of cotton. It was cut from leftover scraps of fabric from sewing clothes, and it was completely plain with no embroidery on it.

She wiped very lightly, from her forehead to her brow bone, from her brow bone to her nose bridge, and from her nose bridge to her chin, as if she were polishing a precious piece of porcelain.

"Are you tired?" she asked, her voice soft, like she was being coaxed or pleading.

Jiang Xiaochuan shook his head, took the handkerchief, and wiped himself.

He wiped harder than she did, and the skin where he wiped turned red. The white handkerchief was quickly stained red, starting from the edges and gradually seeping in until only a small patch in the middle remained white.

He didn't mind. After wiping, he casually stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket and said, "It's dirty. I'll wash it and return it to you later."

Xiao Bai smiled.

"It's just a handkerchief, why would I return it?" she said.

Jiang Xiaochuan didn't reply, he just kept walking forward. Xiaobai followed, quickened her pace, and walked alongside him.

"Where are we going today?" she asked, tilting her head to look at him.

"Go ahead," Jiang Xiaochuan said. "I heard there's a swamp ahead with a giant toad that spews poison. Let's go check it out."

"What's so interesting about toads?"

Xiao Bai pouted, her lips drooping down with a hint of disdain and a touch of coquetry, the kind of coquettishness that says, "You'd rather look at a toad than at me."

"The meat is coarse and fishy; it doesn't taste good whether grilled or stewed."

"Not for eating," Jiang Xiaochuan said, "but to see how poisonous it is."

Xiao Bai glanced at him and then fell silent.

She understood; he didn't really want to see how poisonous the toad was.

He was looking for the Demon-Suppressing Cave. That year, he went to great lengths to venture into the deep mountains and forests, entering every cave and exploring every opening he could find. He said it was to hone his skills, but in reality, he was searching.

He didn't say it aloud, but his feet told him to find the legendary ancient cave that was said to suppress the beast god. Every time he heard that there was a cave in a certain direction, his pace would quicken, so fast that he himself wouldn't even realize it.

She didn't know why he insisted on going to that place. She asked him, but he wouldn't say, only shook his head, so she stopped asking.

If he doesn't tell her, she won't ask; if he doesn't give her, she won't take it.

Some things aren't chased, they're waited for. The day he's willing to tell her, he'll naturally speak up.

Until that day comes, she only needs to do one thing: follow him.

He killed beasts, and she watched from the sidelines; when he was tired, she handed him water; when he was injured, she bandaged him.

She looks like a timid young wife.

Thinking of this, Xiaobai's lips curved into a smile again.

She liked those three words: "little wife".

Although he never called her by those three words, never mentioned them, and never gave her any title that even remotely resembled them.

But she didn't care; she sealed herself off in her heart.

Her young husband walked ahead, and she followed behind. She could see him just three steps away, and reach him with her outstretched arm.

She was his little wife. She repeated the words to herself, the three words rolling on her tongue, sweet as if she were sucking on a piece of honey freshly plucked from a honeycomb.

"What are you laughing at?" Jiang Xiaochuan's voice suddenly came from the front.

He stopped walking at some point, turned halfway to the side, and tilted his head to look at her.

The few drops of blood on his face that he hadn't wiped off had dried and congealed into small, dark red dots, like a few grains of rusty iron filings.

His expression remained unchanged, calm and unchanging, but there was a question in his eyes, and a hint of curiosity that he himself probably didn't even realize.

It might not be curiosity, it could be something else entirely.

Xiao Bai's smile didn't fade; instead, it deepened. She snapped out of her reverie and her eyes darted around.

"It's nothing," she said.

Then she quickened her pace, taking two steps, turning three steps into zero, leaning her body towards him, and naturally reaching her hand out from her sleeve to hook her arm around his.

The entire movement was fluid and natural, as if he had done it a thousand or ten thousand times.

Her hand was clasped on his forearm, her fingertips lightly resting on the muscles on his inner side, not too tight, but not too loose, just enough so he couldn't pull away.

"My little husband," she called him, her voice soft and sweet, the last syllable of which had an upward curve, like a small hook.

I'm hungry.

Jiang Xiaochuan's body stiffened.

He turned his head to look at her hand, which was wrapped in his arm. Her hand was as white as a freshly peeled lotus root, and her nails were a light pink, clean and without any nail polish. He looked at it for a moment and then remained silent.

"I just ate," he said, his tone dry.

"I'm hungry again," Xiaobai said matter-of-factly, though she wasn't entirely sure. "Walking makes me tired, so I get hungry quickly."

Jiang Xiaochuan glanced at her, but there was no helplessness or impatience in his eyes. He simply looked at her for a moment, then looked away and reached into his pocket with his other hand, pulling out an oil paper package.

The paper package was warm from his body heat, and the edges were crumpled from being pressed. He handed it to her casually, as if handing her a twig that he had casually folded.

Xiao Bai took it and, without any hesitation, tore it open right in front of everyone.

The layers of oil paper were peeled off one by one, revealing a small pile of dark stuff.

The dried meat is cut into irregular small pieces, with a dry, cracked surface, a dark, almost black color, and slightly whitish edges.

She picked up a piece of jerky; it was so hard it hurt her hand. She tilted her head and glanced at it with a hint of suspicion, but still put it in her mouth.

Chewed it once, then once more.

As she chewed, her expression changed. First, she frowned because the thing was salty and bitter, and hard enough to hurt her teeth.

Then, his brows slowly relaxed, because after chewing it thoroughly, he could actually taste a bit of the original flavor of the meat from those coarse fibers.

She squinted and smiled—a genuine smile that spread from the corners of her mouth all the way to the depths of her eyes.

"It's delicious," she said.

She picked up another piece, but this time she didn't put it in her own mouth. Instead, she held up her hand and brought the dark, jerky to his lips, so close that the edge of the jerky almost touched his lower lip.

"Try it," she said. "I'll feed you."

Jiang Xiaochuan tilted his neck to the other side, turning his face away half an inch: "I won't eat."

"Just a taste," Xiaobai insisted.

He turned his face away, and she kept offering him the meat jerky, which steadily followed his mouth. If he turned to the left, she would follow him to the left; if he turned to the right, she would follow him to the right.

Her eyes sparkled, filled with mischievous joy. "I'll feed you~ Open your mouth, ah~"

Jiang Xiaochuan dodged several times, but finally couldn't escape anymore.

He glanced at her, his eyes conveying a look that seemed to surrender, or perhaps to say, "You win."

Then he opened his mouth, took a bite, chewed twice, frowned, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed.

"It's too salty," he said with certainty, as if he were making a judgment.

Little White stuffed the remaining half into its mouth and chewed it with relish.

It was the one he had bitten; the edges were still slightly damp.

She chewed, her cheeks puffing out, her eyes narrowed to slits, as if she were eating some rare delicacy.

"Not salty," she said, "just right."

Jiang Xiaochuan didn't argue with her, he just kept walking forward.

Xiao Bai linked arms with him, chewing on jerky while humming a little tune.

The tune was learned from the Miao village; it was soft, but the lyrics were vulgar, each line bolder and more explicit than the last.

She hummed happily, shaking her head and swaying her arms gently along with his, as if the two of them were dancing some kind of dance that only she knew about.

Jiang Xiaochuan listened, his ears burning.

The heat started from her earlobe and slowly rose upwards, spreading over her earlobe, her cheekbone, until her entire ear turned a faint red. He didn't interrupt, didn't comment, and didn't turn to look at her.

Her steps were only half a beat slower than before, just in time to match the tune she was humming.

Deep in the dense forest, the two figures walked one after the other.

No, they're not one in front of the other, they're side by side.

She held his arm, and he let her hold his arm. Vines hung down from above, which he parted with a branch and then closed up behind her, like green curtains falling one after another, gradually covering the path they had walked.