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

Biyao, who had been observing coldly, immediately came over upon hearing the sound and curiously looked down.

There were also a few lines of writing carved there, the handwriting quite similar to that of the mournful woman on the adjacent stone wall, but even more hasty and weak:

Her heart aches, she can't bear to look back.

Too late to regret it; they're difficult to get along with.

The crisp sound of golden bells, a bloodthirsty mistake.

A lifetime is always...

The writing in the fourth line clearly weakens, and by the third character "总" (zong), it is already illegible. The last stroke is dragged out and ends abruptly, as if the writer has exhausted his strength or reached the extreme of sorrow and despair, and can no longer continue.

A deeper silence fell over the cave. Even the sound of dripping water seemed to fade into the distance.

As they looked at the unfinished sentence and the abruptly ended strokes, they both vaguely sensed that hidden between the lines was a poignant and tragic love story with a heartbreaking ending.

The woman wept as she wrote the letter, heartbroken, while the man, filled with remorse, could only write "Throughout my life..." before leaving it unfinished.

Jiang Xiaochuan stared at the word "General" in a daze.

"Always...always what? Always misled by infatuation? Always devoured by the golden bell?" He pondered silently, his left chest cold, feeling nothing, only that the story was a bit cliché, and a bit...indescribably stifling.

Just then.

"Gurgle..."

A clear, hollow sound from the abdomen suddenly rang out in the silent cave.

The voice came from Biyao.

Biyao blushed and instinctively pressed her hand to her abdomen, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Her provisions and personal belongings had been swept away by the giant waves of the Blackwater Serpent long ago. She hadn't noticed them before because of her emotional ups and downs, being injured and searching for treasure. But now that she was a little more relaxed, hunger surged up.

Jiang Xiaochuan glanced at her; her forced composure and barely concealed embarrassment made him feel a little amused, and also a little... indescribably pitiful.

Even the high and mighty young lady of the Ghost King Sect gets hungry and blushes.

Without saying a word, he walked straight to a relatively flat and dry open space in the cave. With a thought, a pile of things appeared out of thin air in front of him.

A small iron pot, a few porcelain bowls, a stack of chopsticks, and even a simple but sturdy tin stove, along with a few pieces of chopped dry wood.

Biyao stared in disbelief as he magically produced these items, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. After a long while, she clicked her tongue and asked, "What...what are you carrying in your arms?"

Jiang Xiaochuan ignored her, squatted down, skillfully set up the stove, stuffed the wood in, and with a flick of his fingers, a tiny spark popped out, igniting the dry wood.

The orange-red firelight shone, dispelling some of the chill in the cave.

He took out another oil paper package, opened it, and inside was a reddish-brown, solidified paste that emitted a rich and peculiar spicy aroma. This was the "hot pot base" that he had specially asked Xiao Fan to make before he went down the mountain. He asked Xiao Fan to make a few extra portions, sealed them in oil paper, and stored them in his storage space. He had originally planned to have it as a treat on the road, but he never expected to use it here.

He put the base ingredients into the iron pot, then took out a water bag and poured water into the pot.

Then, to Biyao's continued astonishment, he produced, as if by magic, another series of items:

Thin slices of meat, tender fish slices, chopped ribs, cleaned tripe, a handful of bright green wild vegetables, a few crisp lotus root slices, and even two pieces of frozen tofu.

The ingredients weren't particularly plentiful, but at this moment, trapped at the bottom of the Abyss of the Dead, and having just been fighting for treasure and exploring on the brink of death, this row of things laid out was outrageously extravagant.

Flames licked the bottom of the pot, the water inside gradually boiled, the reddish-brown base melted, and a rich white mist, carrying the aroma of spiciness and butter, billowed out.

The fragrance instantly filled the air, forcefully dispelling the musty smell and chill that had filled the cave.

Jiang Xiaochuan picked up a slice of meat with his chopsticks and dipped it in the boiling red broth. The meat slice quickly changed color and curled up.

He scooped it up, put it in a porcelain bowl, and then rinsed two more slices of tripe. He pushed the bowl aside and glanced at Biyao, who was still in a daze.

"Eat," he said, taking out another bowl and putting in a few slices of lotus root and wild vegetables.

Biyao was really hungry. The aroma kept wafting into her nose, making the "greedy worm" in her stomach growl again.

She felt a little embarrassed, but when she saw the glistening, tempting slices of meat in the bowl and the bubbling, mouthwatering red broth in the pot, her restraint quickly crumbled.

Without hesitation, she took the other pair of chopsticks from Jiang Xiaochuan, and imitating him, picked up a piece of meat, dipped it in the pot, blew on it, and put it in her mouth.

Spicy, fragrant, and piping hot, the tender slices of meat, infused with the rich flavor of the broth, instantly fill the mouth, slide down the throat, and warm the stomach all the way.

She gasped slightly from the spiciness, but her eyes lit up. Without stopping, she picked up another piece of tripe, cooked it perfectly, and made it crisp and tender.

Neither of them spoke again. They sat around the small stove, eating silently amidst the bubbling steam and rich aroma from the pot. The only sounds in the cave were the soft clinking of chopsticks against bowls, the subtle sounds of food entering their mouths, and the bubbling of the broth in the pot. The firelight illuminated their faces, casting swaying, huddled shadows on the stone wall behind them.

Biyao ate very seriously, with fine beads of sweat appearing on her forehead and the tip of her nose. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat. She ate quickly, but her manner was not rude. Instead, she had a girlish focus and satisfaction. Occasionally, when she was a little spicy, she would exhale gently, fan her mouth with her hand, squint her eyes, and then couldn't help but pick up another bite with her chopsticks.

Jiang Xiaochuan ate slowly, adding vegetables to the pot every now and then. He didn't eat much, spending most of his time watching the fire or watching Biyao eat.

Seeing her cheeks puffed out and her eyes shining as she ate, the melancholy in my heart caused by the Heavenly Book, the Dripping Blood Cave, and those old stories seemed to be diluted by the warm, smoky atmosphere.

After finishing her meal, Biyao put down her chopsticks and breathed a sigh of relief. She felt warm all over, and the fatigue and tension of the past few days were relieved.

She watched Jiang Xiaochuan silently clear the dishes and put the pots and pans back into that magical storage space one by one, and finally couldn't help but ask that question again:

"How...how did you manage to produce so much stuff?" She paused, then added, "Even the stove and pots are included."

Jiang Xiaochuan didn't answer. He cleaned up the last trace, walked to the pool, and washed his hands in the cold water.

Then he walked back, took out a clean, moon-white silk handkerchief from his bosom, and handed it to Biyao.

Biyao took the silk scarf; it was soft to the touch. She wiped the corners of her mouth and the sweat from the tip of her nose.

The scarf carried a very faint, clean, sun-kissed scent, unlike the icy feeling emanating from him.

She held the silk scarf, not returning it, and looked up at Jiang Xiaochuan.

The firelight had died down, and the cave had returned to its previous dimness, with only scattered points of light on the distant stalactites and cave walls. His face was obscured by the dim light, making his expression indistinct.

"Why did you...?"