15 Memories of the Past (2)

“Are you sure?”

After being pulled aside, Ling Sicheng asked softly.

Jiang Xiaoman nodded firmly, certain beyond doubt.

The moment she saw those familiar patterns and carvings, she understood immediately.

This was no ordinary celestial zither.

It was the resonance zither once belonging to Jiang Rong.

Though her eldest aunt was now widely known in the immortal sect as a pipa player, it was said that over a decade ago, the zither was her resonance instrument.

The Jiang family of Tuzhou were all skilled in multiple instruments but could only have one resonance instrument. The so-called "resonance" path, akin to the Ling family’s sword and qi refinement or the Wen family's gu insect silk weaving, required a long cultivation process, continuously infusing spiritual power into the immortal artifact until it connected and unified with one’s own being, thus greatly amplifying the potency of one’s techniques.

This merging into one entity was called “resonance.”

Once you had a resonant instrument, whether it was illusion sound arts or controlling powerful spirit beasts, all would be effortless.

But for Jiang Xiaoman, this was far beyond reach. The years needed for resonance, for someone of average talent like her, would be at least several decades. How could she, unlike her eldest aunt, casually replace a long-accompanied resonance instrument and start anew?

Of course, since it had been replaced, this celestial zither was now merely an ordinary immortal artifact.

As for how the zither came into Elder Cen’s possession and then passed to Cen Lan, perhaps it was a tale of forgotten romance or a friendship buried by time, but none of that mattered now.

What mattered was the link between this celestial zither, the three deceased, and the lurking demonic presence.

Ling Sicheng lightly probed the zither’s surface with his spiritual power, then asked, “Second Miss, have you always played this zither?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you played it?”

“After Father passed away, the zither was left to me.”

By calculation, the zither had weathered over ten years, not counting the longer time with her eldest aunt. But Jiang Xiaoman was unsurprised. Her family’s celestial zithers were made from rare pearl wood from Penglai, imbued with natural spiritual energy, growing only one tree every thousand years, and scarce in number. Even disciples of their sect could not all choose a zither as a resonance instrument. Each was a masterpiece, impervious to decay or distortion even after a hundred years.

Ling Sicheng pondered for a moment, then asked, “On the night Xing’er jumped into the river, did you also play the zither at night?”

Cen Lan thought for a moment, then shook her head. “It poured rain heavily that night, so I rested early in the side chamber. I only learned the next morning that Xing’er had met with an accident…”

Seeing the sorrow on her face, Ling Sicheng did not press further.

He gently brushed the zither and wrapped it back in silk cloth, then said, “It’s best not to go tonight.”

Cen Lan looked slightly puzzled but nodded without asking more.

At that moment, hurried footsteps approached from behind. The three turned to see a young maid in red, cheeks flushed, running over.

Tao Hong glanced first at the zither on the table, then at the three, catching her breath, she urgently said, “Miss, quickly! The matriarch and the others are quarreling in the main hall!”

*

—“You sorcerer! Don’t you see the huge character 'Demon'?”

Before they reached the hall, they already heard the loud shouts of steward Ma.

Tao Hong quickened her pace with the others, arriving to find the main hall in chaos.

Ma had grabbed Master Baihuā by the collar with one hand and was raising a fist to strike. Jiang Xiaoman dashed forward in a single step, tightly gripping Ma’s arm just as it swung.

Ma was likely surprised that this young medicine maid had such strength.

The matriarch sat in the main seat, eyelids drooping, appearing frail. Steward Zeng and another maid attended to her closely.

Steward Zeng quickly waved over, “The divine healer has arrived just in time. The matriarch’s condition is unstable; please take a look.”

Ling Sicheng bypassed Ma, who was held by Jiang Xiaoman, and knelt beside the matriarch to check her pulse.

He reassured, “The matriarch is not seriously ill. It seems she was just overly agitated, causing a blood surge to the heart. A short rest will suffice.” Then he glanced around and asked, “Why did this fight break out?”

Steward Zeng explained, “With such a grave incident in the estate, we wanted to report it to the authorities, but the matriarch feared they couldn’t handle it. So she gathered everyone to discuss. She wanted Master Baihuā to exorcise the demon from the village, but the master insisted it was human-caused. Then steward Ma accused him of fabricating rumors and wanted to teach him a lesson.”

Ling Sicheng nodded but remained neutral, quietly infusing a small amount of spiritual energy into the matriarch. Soon, her eyes fluttered open, she coughed hoarsely, and gradually regained consciousness.

Seeing the matriarch awake, Ma finally restrained himself. Jiang Xiaoman released his arm.

Yet Ma grumbled stubbornly, “If you’re too afraid to exorcise the demon, we can find someone else. But you? You accuse the villagers instead. I say you’re the culprit! You’re an outsider, brought in by the son-in-law, versed in some crooked sorcery. Surely you’re harboring a grudge and taking revenge!”

Master Baihuā remained calm and replied respectfully, “I only drive away evil spirits, I do not kill people. If you doubt me, you can inquire about my reputation in the city.”

Ma’s anger flared at the calm reply, and he shouted again, “You sorcerer!” and tried to rush forward. Jiang Xiaoman was about to stop him when Cen Lan stepped in first.

“Uncle Ma, please calm down. I know you have always united everyone in the estate, but this matter is suspicious and requires careful deliberation.”

Ling Sicheng added, “Second Miss is right. Cen Yuan may not have died from a demon’s killing or some strange technique.”

At this, Ma seemed more alert. He dared not contradict the young lady but challenged the outsider, “You’re just a doctor. What do you know about sorcery?”

Ling Sicheng sneered, “Indeed, I do not know sorcery, but I have treated many who escaped demon attacks and have seen many demonic creatures. How many have you seen?”

Ma was silenced by this question.

The matriarch’s eyes brightened at this, and she asked eagerly, “Divine healer, what do you think?”

Ling Sicheng stood and calmly faced Ma, meeting his eyes steadily, speaking evenly:

“People call demons ‘demon’ out of fear and hatred. Those who devour and slaughter humans are demons. However, from what I know, demons themselves do not call themselves demons. So the notion of writing the character ‘demon’ is unfounded.”

Ma was left speechless, uncomfortable under Ling Sicheng’s gaze, and turned his head away, refusing to respond further.

Jiang Xiaoman suddenly recalled that in the immortal sect, there was indeed such a saying. Immortals and demons were born enemies and never sat down to talk on equal terms, so their thoughts remained unknown and the saying unverifiable.

For example, the thirty-six regional demons, supposedly named after demon generals inscribed on a stone tablet seized from the Northern Demon Lord five hundred years ago during a great war. But directly inscribing the character “demon” seemed like a preconceived prejudice.

The matriarch’s voice trembled slightly, “So, Divine Healer, do you also think Cen Yuan’s death was caused by humans?”

Ling Sicheng neither confirmed nor denied, his tone calm.

“If it was human, then it can be controlled. There’s always a reason—money, love. It’s unlikely to involve innocent others. The matriarch can rest assured for now. As for reporting to the authorities, I don’t think it’s urgent. It’s better to stabilize the estate first. Also…” He smiled meaningfully, “The culprit might confess soon enough.”

The matriarch nodded sadly but still looked puzzled.

Ling Sicheng smiled silently, quietly observing the expressions around him—some surprised, some doubtful, some sorrowful, some smiling like him, and some expressionless.

Suddenly, a servant rushed into the hall, reporting that several maids and servants had fled the estate amid the chaos.

—It was expected that after a demonic killing, the servants would panic and escape.

Yet the matriarch’s face darkened instantly. She ordered Ma to quickly gather men to guard the gates and forbid anyone from leaving.

No sooner had she given the order than her anger surged wildly. The pain from her son-in-law’s death and her daughter’s illness overwhelmed her. Suddenly, the patches of scales on her neck burst with thick pus. She felt a stabbing pain in her chest, opened her mouth, and spat out blood.

*

By the time the matriarch’s condition stabilized, dusk was falling.

Everyone had dispersed. Ma was assigned to guard the gate, and the others, following Steward Zeng’s instructions, retired to their rooms to rest, planning to discuss further tomorrow.

Ling Sicheng had been busy all afternoon—first treating the matriarch’s energy, then suppressing the scale infection, and finally preparing a dose of White Dew Pill, using up all the medicines he brought.

Jiang Xiaoman was no less exhausted. She had carefully prepared the medicines according to the prescription, repeatedly reviewing the order of administration, and confirmed every detail with Ling Sicheng before proceeding. She truly felt she had become a half-trained medicine maid on this trip.

After finally stepping out of the room, the two breathed a long sigh of relief.

On the way back to their guest room, Ling Sicheng did not take the main road but led Jiang Xiaoman down a small path.

This path led to the southeast corner of the right courtyard, surrounded by dense foliage, secluded and quiet. Seeing no one around, Jiang Xiaoman finally asked the question she had held back for so long:

“This is not good. I heard many have already fled the estate. Do you think the strange sounds could be—”

“Isn’t that what you’re hoping for?” Ling Sicheng teased, turning his head.

Jiang Xiaoman stammered, “I…I didn’t mean to…”

Her words sounded odd. Though she was somewhat afraid, it was as if she was hoping a great demon would roam freely to continue the chaos.

Ling Sicheng snorted softly, “Don’t worry, it’s still here.”

“How do you know?”

“A mortal has only died. As long as no immortal is involved, it poses no threat to it.”

“That’s true. If it’s unrelated, then there’s no need to flee.” Jiang Xiaoman recalled what Cen Lan had said earlier, “But I never expected Cen Yuan to be such a beastly scoundrel. Seeing it this way, his death wasn’t undeserved.”

Ling Sicheng didn’t respond to her comment but asked, “Do you know the difference between a demonic killing and a murder?”

“...One is a demon killing a person; the other is a person killing a person?” Jiang Xiaoman blinked.

“Then which do you hope it is?”

“A demonic killing?” She blurted out, then hurriedly waved her hand, “No, a human killing.”

She was surprised herself; her first instinct was to say demonic killing, though disasters caused by demons were usually most feared.

But since the tragedy had already happened, if it was human, she couldn’t imagine who the culprit could be.

Perhaps subconsciously, she didn’t want anyone to be the murderer.

Ling Sicheng smiled faintly, as if expecting her reaction.

“When disaster strikes, people instinctively blame uncontrollable forces—natural disasters, diseases, ghosts, demons—while overlooking that humans, too, kill humans.”

Jiang Xiaoman frowned, half understanding.

Ling Sicheng continued, “If it’s a demonic killing, the demon doesn’t care whether the victim is good or evil. But if it’s human, there are causes, ethics, and morality involved. If the culprit dares not face the consequences or explain their reasons, and instead tries to pin the blame on demons, who lack human ethics, I’d say they are just a coward.”

Jiang Xiaoman’s frown deepened; his words were too profound—what did he mean?

She didn’t quite grasp the last sentence, so scratched her head and echoed the earlier part:

“Yes, this demon even killed a good girl like Xing’er.”

Ling Sicheng stopped walking.

“Don’t jump to conclusions yet. Not everything Cen Lan said is necessarily true.”

Jiang Xiaoman didn’t like hearing this. Her tone carried a hint of displeasure, “What do you mean? Are you still doubting Lan?”

Ling Sicheng said, “At least one thing she didn’t tell the truth.”