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

"It's none of your business." Linglong's voice remained calm, even carrying an almost soothing tone. "It's my choice, my karma, and has nothing to do with you."

How could it be unrelated?

Jiang Xiaochuan thought, if he hadn't mistakenly entered that era, if he hadn't said those things to Linglong... But he knew that saying anything now would be futile, time could not be turned back, and the regret had already been made.

"Tsk tsk, I'm telling you, Chuan Chuan, what's the use of just saying sorry at a time like this?"

Hong Li's voice chimed in again, carrying a hint of mockery, as if she were enjoying the spectacle.

"Sister Linglong is suffering inside. As her 'father,' shouldn't you show some support? Give her a hug!"

Jiang Xiaochuan said helplessly, "Sister Hongli, stop it, Linglong, she..."

She was just a remnant soul, residing in his consciousness. How could he possibly embrace her?

"What's so difficult about that?" Hong Li chuckled lightly. The next moment, Jiang Xiaochuan felt a slight coolness between his brows, as if a warm breath was emanating from it.

Immediately afterwards, light and shadow flickered before his eyes, and a phantom yet incredibly clear figure slowly coalesced in front of him.

It was Linglong. She was dressed in ancient witch's attire, her long hair flowing freely. Her face was still the same as he remembered: beautiful, pale, with deep and calm eyes, carrying the serenity of someone who had experienced many hardships. However, her figure was slightly transparent, like mist condensed under the moonlight, not real.

Hong Li's voice was a little tired, but still had a smile on it: "Look, I've temporarily formed a form for her, and I'm using my soul power to support it. It should last for about an hour. Kid, hurry up and comfort your Linglong sister. She's been waiting for you for thousands of years, and she's almost broken from waiting."

After speaking, Hong Li's aura subsided, as if she had expended a considerable amount of energy.

Jiang Xiaochuan looked at Linglong, who was so close to him, and was momentarily at a loss.

She stood there quietly, looking at him with a complex gaze, a mixture of longing, relief, a deep-seated yearning that had not been completely erased even after a thousand years, and a hint of almost liberated tranquility.

His throat bobbed, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but found that any words seemed pale at this moment. He took a step forward, reached out, and somewhat clumsily and gently embraced the slightly illusory figure.

The feeling of my arm passing through it was somewhat strange. It wasn't completely empty; I could feel a slightly cool, almost imperceptible touch, like holding a clump of solid mist.

Linglong's body seemed to stiffen for a moment, then slowly relaxed, and she raised her arms to give him a light hug, her chin resting gently on the top of his head.

"Hongli..." Jiang Xiaochuan buried his face in her shoulder and neck, muttering, "How come even the one you conjured... is taller than me..."

Linglong's figure was actually quite a bit taller than his.

Linglong seemed to chuckle softly, a laugh tinged with a familiar, long-lost mischievousness.

The slight embarrassment and sadness in Jiang Xiaochuan's heart were somewhat diluted by this soft laugh.

He held her tightly. Although the touch was surreal, he could feel her presence and the heavy, stubborn emotion that had transcended a thousand years.

He whispered, "Linglong, I'm sorry... and thank you." I'm sorry for your thousand-year wait, and thank you for your final act of letting go.

Linglong didn't answer, but gently patted his back, just like many years ago, in that secluded little house, she would sometimes pat his back like that when she was in a good mood, to indicate that she "got it" or "don't bother me".

This subtle movement suddenly brought tears to Jiang Xiaochuan's eyes.

Just then, Linglong suddenly tilted her head slightly, and her cool, ethereal lips gently pressed against his lips.

It was very light, very quick, and it separated as soon as it touched my lips, like a snowflake falling on my lips and melting instantly, leaving only a slightly cool, damp feeling.

Jiang Xiaochuan was stunned.

Linglong had already taken a half step back, her illusory figure trembling slightly. She lowered her eyelashes, her voice still calm, yet seemingly carrying a barely perceptible tremor: "I'm sorry, I... couldn't help myself for a moment."

Jiang Xiaochuan looked at her lowered eyes, and it seemed that all the loneliness of a thousand years was condensed in this illusory silhouette.

He shook his head inwardly, wanting to say something but not knowing what to say. In the end, he simply stepped forward again, gently squeezed her equally ethereal hand, and whispered, "I'll take you... to see Xueqi."

Linglong looked up at him and nodded.

Lu Xueqi was meditating in the courtyard when Jiang Xiaochuan walked out with the ethereal Linglong. She opened her eyes and calmly looked at Linglong. There was no surprise or hostility. She just looked at her quietly, as if she were looking at a familiar stranger she had not seen for a long time.

"Xueqi, this is Linglong," Jiang Xiaochuan introduced, his voice somewhat hoarse.

Lu Xueqi stood up and nodded slightly to Linglong: "Miss Linglong." Her manners were impeccable, yet she carried her usual aloofness and indifference.

Linglong also looked at her. This woman, whom Jiang Xiaochuan had "seen" and "heard" for a long time in the depths of his consciousness, was more beautiful than he had imagined, and her temperament was more aloof and cold. But she could see the determination and persistence in her eyes.

"Miss Lu," Linglong's voice was soft and gentle, "I'd like to speak with you alone for a few minutes, is that alright?"

Jiang Xiaochuan looked at Lu Xueqi, who exchanged a glance with Linglong for a moment before nodding and saying, "Okay."

She turned to Jiang Xiaochuan and said, "Xiaochuan, go check on the soup simmering on the stove."

"Okay."

Jiang Xiaochuan knew they had something to say. Although he was a little worried, he still turned around and went to the kitchen as instructed. However, he was restless and kept glancing into the yard.

In the courtyard, bamboo shadows swayed, and two women stood facing each other. One was as pure and aloof as snow, and the other as ethereal as smoke, yet both possessed breathtaking beauty.

"What do you want to say?" Lu Xueqi spoke first, her tone indifferent.

Linglong looked at her, her ethereal eyes flashing with a complex mix of emotions before settling into a deep tranquility.

She said, "There's a lot, about him, about me, about...this thousand years."

She began to speak, her voice soft and slow, telling the story of the stranger who had wandered into her life, the five years of companionship and the feelings that had quietly grown, the pain of his departure without saying goodbye and the thousand years of lonely waiting, the obsession of creating the beast god and the resoluteness of the sacrificial seal, the long watch of a wisp of remnant soul in the stone statue, and also the bits and pieces of him and her that he finally "saw" deep in his consciousness.

Lu Xueqi listened quietly without interrupting until Linglong finished speaking, at which point she asked, "Do you regret it?"

Linglong smiled, a smile both ethereal and beautiful, carrying a serene acceptance of everything:

"What is there to regret? Regret meeting him, or regret waiting for him for a thousand years?"

She shook her head and said:

"I don't regret it. There's no need to regret liking him. It's my business if I like him, and it's his business if he likes me or not. I like him, so I'll wait for him, wait for him to turn around, wait for him to see me. Even if I don't wait, I won't regret it, because every day I wait for him is filled with joy."