16 Past Memories (3)

Only then did Jiang Xiaoman notice that they had stopped at the southwestern corner of the right courtyard. It was a tranquil clearing, where a few lush trees stood silently. This was the opposite direction from the guest residence.

However, more than wondering why Ling Sicheng had brought her here, she was more curious about what he meant by “Cen Lan didn’t tell the whole truth.”

She blinked, staring at the white-clad youth beside her, waiting for him to continue.

Ling Sicheng was in no hurry. His tone was calm: “On the night Xing’er got into trouble, Cen Lan was indeed in the side chamber, but that night, Xing’er also went to her room. Xing’er is not her maid; a midnight visit must have a hidden reason. As for why she didn’t mention this, I suppose she knows what Xing’er did and doesn’t want me to dig deeper.”

Jiang Xiaoman pursed her lips. So that’s all it was—just some trivial matter.

“Maybe she simply forgot to mention it. Don’t read too much into it. By the way, how do you know whether she actually went?” she asked.

Ling Sicheng replied indifferently, “Yesterday, when I went to deliver a letter, I inquired around. The left courtyard is always patrolled by servants, and for a bit of silver, someone naturally would speak. That night, Xing’er carried a box of fruit into the room, looking around nervously and behaving oddly. Even the servant noticed this unusual behavior; how could Cen Lan easily forget?”

Jiang Xiaoman’s eyes widened. “Are you suspecting Xing’er is the thief who stole things earlier? …Wait, what about delivering the letter?”

Ling Sicheng smiled mysteriously, didn’t answer directly, but looked up at the sky, seeming lost in thought.

“The three victims were killed by the same murderous demon. Earth-level demons aren’t as easily driven by appetite as Xuanhuang-level ones; they are cold and cunning. I don’t think the killings were impulsive. Finding a hiding place is no easy task for them, and they are very cautious about revealing their location. But what do these three have in common…”

Jiang Xiaoman didn’t understand and received no answer. She quickly fired three questions: “So yesterday at dusk, you really went to deliver a letter? What letter? To whom?”

Ling Sicheng ignored her questions and closed his eyes, as if listening quietly.

“Shh, it’s coming back.”

“What?” Jiang Xiaoman was confused and about to ask when the wind suddenly picked up, and the leaves trembled.

“Caw—”

A black crow flew in from nowhere, flapping its wings and stirring a small whirlwind.

The crow obediently landed on Ling Sicheng’s raised arm.

“Wow, what’s that!” Jiang Xiaoman exclaimed, hurriedly waving away the black feathers fluttering around her.

Curious, she leaned closer. “Is this… a spirit bird?”

“This is a black dove,” Ling Sicheng corrected her with a glance. “So surprised—did you really think only the Jiang family has spirit pets?”

Jiang Xiaoman shot him a meaningful look.

Spirit pets were indeed not exclusive to the Jiang family, but there was a saying: All spirit pets in the world come from the Jiang family. Had she never heard it?

In ancient times, the five great immortal sects had clear divisions of labor. Just as the immortal weapons were forged by the Ling family, elixirs refined by the Wen family, and all talismans crafted by the Yuqing Sect, only the Jiang family mastered the art of taming and commanding spirit pets through sound illusion techniques. Except for the Xuanyang Sect… Those brutes seemed good only at fighting and nothing special otherwise, even now.

Of course, the Ling family had learned from the Jiang family, then improved the sound illusion technique into their own “Qi Refinement Tracking,” choosing suitable bird species. They had been raising black doves for over a thousand years, so calling this their spirit pet wasn’t inaccurate. Jiang Xiaoman didn’t want to argue.

She looked closely and saw a small rolled letter tied to the delicate leg of the black bird.

It was a messenger bird.

As rumored, the Ling family’s black birds could only deliver messages, nothing else—just basic flying back and forth and tracking.

Jiang Xiaoman snorted with laughter.

—What kind of spirit pet is this? Just like ordinary carrier pigeons, only faster. Not even comparable to her family’s Yue’er.

Seeing her smug expression, Ling Sicheng didn’t bother arguing. He quietly removed the letter and called the dove back into the ornament at his waist.

He had chosen the southwestern corner of the right courtyard precisely because the protective barrier there was thinnest. The dove carried a small amount of its owner’s spiritual energy, and after searching, only this spot allowed it to fly out.

Unfolding the letter, two sheets of yellow paper, Ling Sicheng’s eyes scanned the dense writing with intense concentration.

Jiang Xiaoman watched silently, suppressing her curiosity.

Unexpectedly, after reading it once, the youth let out a snort.

“Who would have thought this Zhang Zhong actually apprenticed under your Jiang family.”

“Ah? Let me see,” Jiang Xiaoman snatched the paper away.

Her eyes quickly skimmed the lines, reading:

[The matter entrusted by Second Young Master has been investigated. None of the five immortal sects have records of a Zhang Zhong from Tang County, Liang Prefecture within fifty years. However, eighteen years ago, the Jiang family of Tuzhou once had a young disciple from Tang County, Liang Prefecture named Jian Zhong, who was expelled the following year due to misconduct. Later, he was adopted as an adopted son by a Zhang family of the same county, hence changing his surname.]

Ling Sicheng added, “When I investigated his guest room, I found the bed and desk spotless, with faint residual spiritual energy. I thought he might have been an immortal sect disciple previously. After some inquiry, it turned out he really was from your family.”

His guess was reasonable. There was a saying in the mortal world: Those who don’t join immortal sects never develop cleanliness obsession. The reason being that young disciples in their first year at the sect don’t learn how to condense spiritual energy or cast spells, but only how to use spiritual energy to clean their rooms and themselves. This habit then lasts a lifetime, famously called: Immortal cultivation begins with nurturing one’s nature.

But Jiang Xiaoman was still confused.

Huh?

What’s going on with Meixue Manor that everyone seems connected to the Jiang family?

Ling Sicheng raised his eyebrows slightly. “Do you remember this person?”

“I was only one year old eighteen years ago…” Jiang Xiaoman didn’t know what to say. “Besides, hundreds are expelled by Father every year. Those who only stay a round-trip can’t be considered part of the Jiang family.”

Those expelled within a year were usually either too dull, tone-deaf, or had committed improper acts—basically “unteachable children.” Even if they barely passed the initiation test, a year was enough to reveal their true nature.

Zhang Zhong was one such person, the worst kind of “misconduct,” and Jiang Xiaoman refused to acknowledge such a character as family.

Ling Sicheng smiled; he was only teasing. His mind was already clear, and he sighed again, “So that’s how it is.”

Jiang Xiaoman frowned.

“How so?”

“Jian is not a common surname. Think about who else in this manor has the surname Jian.”

Jiang Xiaoman counted on her fingers everyone she knew in the manor—from the old madam to the maids.

“…No one?”

Ling Sicheng rubbed his forehead.

“Don’t count only the living.”

“What do you mean—” Jiang Xiaoman paused, then slapped her head. “Oh! That deceased laborer Jian Erlang!”

Ling Sicheng looked pleased, offering her a confirming smile.

“See, two people, one after another met their end, both surnamed Jian. What do you think that means?”

“Maybe… they knew each other? Were family?”

“Smart. Jian Erlang came to the manor not long ago and tried to bring Jian Dalang over as well. As for why, Jian Dalang had once apprenticed under the Jiang family in his youth. Now, think again—what else in this manor belongs to the Jiang family?”

“Me?” Jiang Xiaoman answered immediately.

“…” Ling Sicheng was silent for a moment, then exhaled. “Besides you?”

“I get it! It’s that zither!”

“Exactly. Doesn’t that tie everything together?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Tie what together? Please speak plainly!”

*

Jiang Xiaoman couldn’t figure it out.

She didn’t understand why Second Young Master Ling, who looked so decent, always spoke in riddles.

He said, “I already know who the sinister voice is,” yet when asked who it was, he said, “Before confirming, there’s one more thing to verify.”

Fine, then just verify it.

Jiang Xiaoman didn’t care. Since he was confident, the answer would probably come tomorrow.

*

Originally, Old Madam Cen’s treatment should have ended by now, but after the incident with the son-in-law, the old lady seemed to have worsened rather than improved. How it would all end, no one knew.

Of course, all these troubles were left to “Divine Doctor Ling” and not a mere medicine servant like her to worry about.

She slipped into the warm quilt, half-closing her eyes as she watched the person in the neighboring bed remove his white outer robe, leaving only his black clothes tightly wrapped around him. She saw him casually pull out a wrist guard from his bag and fasten it carefully.

It looked like he was going out tonight to confirm something…

She asked, “So late, and you’re still going out?”

Ling Sicheng finished fastening the wrist guard and tied up his hair. “You go to sleep first. I’ll be back soon.”

Jiang Xiaoman clenched the blanket, silent for a moment. A gnawing unease made her speak again: “Tomorrow, does that mean… going to exterminate demons?”

Ling Sicheng glanced at her sideways. “If you’re afraid, you can stay in the guesthouse.”

“I’m not afraid,” Jiang Xiaoman muttered, turning away, then turning back. “Alright, I’m afraid. Aren’t you scared?”

Ling Sicheng gave no clear answer, speaking calmly, “What you should ask is, are they afraid?”

“Them?”

“The mortals in this entire manor, who live unknowingly alongside murderous demons every day—shouldn’t they be the most afraid?” His tone was calm but resolute. “Someone has to put an end to this.”

Jiang Xiaoman pressed her lips together, unable to reply.

That familiar look and words stirred her heartstrings, evoking a memory.

[At that time, she was barely a young girl. It was her second mission ever, but the first one alongside her eldest senior brother.

The demon was a Xuan-level monster appearing in a village.

Fortunately, they successfully exterminated it without casualties.

On the way back, the village elder invited them to the village to celebrate. They sat resting on his ox cart as he slowly drove through the green fields.

“That was close. Luckily, Brother Mo was here. We barely escaped death!” said senior brother Wang Zheng, panting heavily.

Eldest senior brother Mo Lian teased, “Your flute playing has regressed again. What was that just now?”

Everyone laughed.

“Senior Brother…” the thirteen-year-old Jiang Xiaoman, who had been silent, suddenly whispered softly.

Mo Lian skillfully pulled out paper and pen from his bosom.

She took them and quickly wrote: “Senior Brother, could you please not take such dangerous missions anymore? I’m scared.”

Though she had watched from a distance alongside mortals, seeing Mo Lian narrowly avoid the demon’s claws and fangs left her shaken.

She returned the paper and pen to Mo Lian, drawing the attention of several senior brothers who gathered to read it, then looked at Mo Lian together.

Mo Lian folded the paper and gently patted her head without answering, pointing outside the ox cart. The cart moved along the muddy rural path, surrounded by green farmland.

“See these mortals farming? The scene is so peaceful and harmonious. What we must do is ensure this peace lasts forever.”

“But Xiaoman, you don’t have to worry about that. We senior brothers will protect you!” Wang Zheng chimed in.

“Exactly! Exactly!”

Laughter followed.]

…

Jiang Xiaoman murmured, “I’m not afraid. I want to go too.”

Ling Sicheng said nothing further, hoisted his sword, and prepared to leave. As he turned, Jiang Xiaoman saw him smile faintly.

She said, “I’ll wait for you to come back. It’s late, so be careful.”

He replied, “Mm.”