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

He cooked a pot of wild vegetable and shredded pork porridge, stir-fried two side dishes, and baked a few pancakes. Linglong's eyes lit up when she took the first bite.

"Delicious!" she exclaimed sincerely.

From then on, Linglong stopped cooking herself. She was in charge of buying the ingredients, and Jiang Xiaochuan was in charge of cooking. The two of them ate together, and after they finished eating, Jiang Xiaochuan would wash the dishes while Linglong sat next to him and watched.

She watched it very intently, as if washing dishes was some kind of profound skill.

"What are you looking at?" Jiang Xiaochuan asked.

"I'm learning," Linglong said seriously, "I'll wash it myself from now on."

"You can't learn it."

How do you know I can't learn it?

"Because you can't even tell how many sides a bowl has."

Linglong was so angry that she kicked him.

……

When Linglong failed in her study of the new witchcraft, she became particularly irritable.

Jiang Xiaochuan had seen her smash three bowls, two teapots, and a vase. She had also overturned her dressing table, shattering all the bottles and jars on the floor and scattering cosmetics everywhere, making people cough.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her chest heaving violently, her eyes red, whether from anger or wanting to cry, it was hard to tell.

Jiang Xiaochuan squatted down and picked up the fragments one by one.

"Don't pick them up," Linglong said. "Let someone else do it."

"Others are people too, doesn't it hurt when they get pricked?" Jiang Xiaochuan didn't even look up.

Linglong fell silent.

After picking up the shards, he went to get a broom to sweep the floor. Halfway through, Linglong suddenly said, "I'm sorry."

The sound was very soft, like a mosquito's buzz.

Jiang Xiaochuan grunted in agreement and continued scanning.

"I'm sorry!" Linglong raised her voice, sounding a bit embarrassed and angry.

"I heard it," Jiang Xiaochuan said, emptying the trash into a dustpan.

"fine."

Linglong looked at him and suddenly felt that this person was very strange.

He never gets angry, never complains, and never argues with her. When she throws a tantrum, he cleans up the mess; when she swears, he listens; when she apologizes, he says it's okay.

It seems nothing can shake him.

It seems like he doesn't care about anything.

"Jiang Xiaochuan," she asked, "have you ever lost your temper?"

Jiang Xiaochuan thought for a moment.

"have."

"When?"

"That was a long time ago," he said. "Back then, I liked someone, but she didn't like me, so I threw a tantrum, just like you are now."

Linglong paused for a moment, then asked, "And then?"

"After that, I was too ashamed to lose my temper anymore," Jiang Xiaochuan smiled, "because after smashing things, I had to clean up the mess myself."

Linglong stared at him for a while, then suddenly smiled.

His smile was a little bitter, a little astringent.

……

During the Mid-Autumn Festival of Jiang Xiaochuan's first year in this era, Linglong took him to the mountaintop to see the moon.

The Wu tribe doesn't celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival, but Linglong knows that people outside do. She somehow obtained a pot of wine, two cups, and some dried fruit and candied fruit, and spread them out on a large rock on the mountaintop.

The moon was round and large, hanging in the sky, shining like a silver plate. The mountain wind was strong, making it hard to open one's eyes, but Linglong didn't care. She wore a thick cloak, pulled up the hood, and only her face was visible.

Jiang Xiaochuan took a sip of the wine; it was fruit wine, sweet, and not very strong.

"How did you celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival before?" Linglong asked.

"With friends," Jiang Xiaochuan said, "we drink, eat mooncakes, and admire the moon. Sometimes we even get into fights."

"fight?"

"A competition," Jiang Xiaochuan explained, "We have a rule where we can spar with fellow disciples during festivals. The loser treats everyone to a meal."

Linglong imagined the scene and found it quite interesting.

“You have friends,” she said, a hint of envy in her voice. “That’s wonderful. I’ve never had a single friend growing up.”

Jiang Xiaochuan paused in his drinking motion.

"What about the elders' children? Don't they want to play with you?"

"They're afraid of me," Linglong said. "My talents are too high. I was able to communicate with spirits at three and control beasts at five. They think I'm a monster. Besides, I'm a priestess. Who would dare to be friends with a priestess?"

As she spoke, she looked down and fiddled with the cup in her hand. The moonlight shone on her fingers, revealing her beautiful hands—slender, long, and with distinct knuckles.

Jiang Xiaochuan wanted to say something, but swallowed it back.

"You mean you can be my friend?" Linglong looked up, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Don't say it. I won't believe you if you do."

Jiang Xiaochuan remained silent for a while.

"Have some candied fruit," he pushed the plate towards me, "the osmanthus flavor, you should like it."

Linglong picked up a candied fruit, put it in her mouth, and chewed it.

"Sweet," she said.

On the winter solstice of the third year, it snowed heavily.

It rarely snows in southern Xinjiang, and it's even rarer in the Shiwan Mountains, where it happens only once every ten years. But on the winter solstice of that year, heavy snow fell from the sky, covering the entire mountain in white overnight.

Linglong woke up early and opened the door, only to be stunned by the sight of the world covered in white. She stood there for a long time.

"It's snowing," she said, her voice filled with a childlike surprise.

Jiang Xiaochuan, wrapped in a blanket, came out of the house, glanced at it, and said dismissively, "It's just snowing, haven't you ever seen it before?"

"I've never seen one this big before," Linglong said, reaching out to catch a snowflake and watching it melt in her palm.

"I experienced this once when I was a child. It only lasted for half a day, and it was just a thin layer that melted before I could even step on it."

As she spoke, she suddenly ran out, her footsteps leaving a trail in the snow. After a few steps, she looked back at him and smiled like a child.

"Jiang Xiaochuan, come here!"

Jiang Xiaochuan looked at her and felt a little unfamiliar.

The Linglong he knew was always calm, restrained, and burdened with worries. The person in front of him, running and playing in the snow, didn't look like a witch, but rather like a little girl from some family.

He walked over and stood next to her.

Linglong squatted down and started building a snowman.

She wasn't very skilled at building snowballs; it took her a while to roll the ball big enough, and when she finally put it on, it was crooked and uneven. She used two pebbles for the eyes and a twig for the nose.

"Does it look like you?" she asked.

Jiang Xiaochuan glanced at the snowman, which was so ugly it made you want to cry, and said expressionlessly, "It doesn't look like it."

"Yes," Linglong said earnestly.

"Just like you, always with a straight face and never saying a word, you're just not likable."

Jiang Xiaochuan didn't refute, squatted down, and piled up another one.

He built it quickly, and in no time he had created a decent-looking snowman with a round body, a round head, and neatly arranged eyes, nose, and mouth.

"This looks like you," he said.

Linglong looked at the snowman, then at him, and suddenly blushed.

"I'm not that round!" she retorted playfully.

Jiang Xiaochuan smiled, a rare occurrence for him.

That was the first time Linglong saw him smile.

……

Linglong has changed.

It's not a radical change, but a gradual one, like the melting of ice and snow in spring.

She started to whine to Jiang Xiaochuan, complaining that the herbs he dried were too messy, that the tea he brewed was too bitter, and that he didn't talk to her enough.

"Jiang Xiaochuan, will you chat with me?" she would say, her voice soft, like a child's.

Jiang Xiaochuan put down what he was doing and sat down with her to listen to her.

She talked about the foolish things the elders had done, about the flowers blooming at the altar, about her failure today but no worries, she could try again tomorrow, and about her desire for candied hawthorns but the witch clan didn't have any.