21 Revealing the Truth (3)

Midnight at Mei Xue Manor.

There was no moon tonight. On the narrow path leading to the back hills, two women walked slowly through the pitch-black darkness. Usually, one could see servants patrolling with lanterns, but tonight was strange—there was not a glimmer of light, nor a single patrolling shadow to be seen. It was eerily silent. Tree shadows swayed gently in the breeze, accompanied by the occasional chirp of insects.

Cen Lan clutched her zither, heading toward Cuiwei Garden to begin her nightly performance, with her maid, Taohong, following closely behind.

"Young Miss, it's so quiet tonight."

"It's fine, we're almost there..."

Perhaps it was the difficult path or the biting autumn wind, but the corners of Cen Lan’s lips trembled. She pressed them tightly together, struggling to keep from shivering too violently.

They reached the entrance of Cuiwei Garden, and Taohong moved to push open the bamboo gate.

Just then, a figure darted quickly across the path.

Cen Lan stopped in her tracks, peering around in panic.

"Who... is there?"

Before the words had faded, a tall figure lunged forward, forcefully dragging the woman holding the zither to the side. A blade pressed firmly against her delicate neck.

"Guard Ma? ...What are you doing!?"

Cen Lan’s face turned deathly pale with shock, and she dared not move.

Taohong, having just pushed open the garden gate, whipped around at the sound, her eyes fixed sharply and vigilantly on the intruder. Behind her, the bamboo shadows cast mottled patterns across her face.

The tall man held the blade to Cen Lan, forcing her step by step into the courtyard. He lowered his voice, "Tell your maid to behave!"

Cen Lan hurriedly said, "Taohong, don't come over..."

Taohong stared, silent, watching as Guard Ma dragged her mistress, stiff and slow, inch by inch into the garden. As Guard Ma retreated, Taohong followed cautiously, her eyes darting around in panic.

The man gasped for air behind her, his hot breath hitting the nape of Cen Lan’s neck. "Second Miss, don't blame me. My sister died so miserably, yet you knew and did nothing to save her, instead playing your zither every night to disturb her grave’s peace... Today, I will kill you, and then I will burn this place to the ground!"

As he spoke, he raised his blade, ready to strike—

Cen Lan squeezed her eyes shut. But it was not the blade in Guard Ma’s hand that she truly feared.

...

In an instant.

In the blink of an eye, the maid in front of Guard Ma vanished.

He looked around in a panic, only to find that Taohong had flashed to his side in a heartbeat. Before he could react, the maid raised her hand. A dark light from her fingertips struck Cen Lan’s neck, causing her to collapse into unconsciousness instantly.

Guard Ma let out a cry and released Cen Lan. The blade slipped from his hand, clattering against the stone floor.

Cen Lan slumped to the ground, while Guard Ma’s legs gave way. He sat down, kicking his feet back in terror.

The maid’s pupils suddenly shifted from pitch black to blood red.

In an instant, she no longer looked human. Her hair erupted and lengthened like sharp needles, her arms became covered in pitch-black scales, twisted horns spiraled from her head, and jagged fangs sprouted in her mouth.

She let out a low growl like a night owl, raised her claws, and lunged with lightning speed toward the terrified man—

*Clang!*

As the demon’s feet touched the stone, the seals on the ground suddenly flared with light. A whirlwind whipped up, roaring and sharp as blades, trapping the horrific monster firmly within its grasp.

The creature struggled and clawed, but the whirlwind held fast like iron chains, tightening with every rotation.

Guard Ma gasped for air. He was terrified, but a sense of relief washed over him. He had been skeptical at first, but seeing the monster reveal its true form, he finally believed—the young master from the immortal sect hadn't been lying; he really had the skills.

*

Earlier that day, in the tightly closed accounting room.

"You say... Taohong is a demon!?" Cen Lan exclaimed, finding it hard to believe.

The youth in white had just finished his story, and the room was shrouded in shock. Everyone else stood frozen, struggling to process their emotions.

Ling Sichen calmly replied, "Yes," and strolled leisurely from the door to the desk. He had paced back and forth several times while recounting the tale.

"The Second Miss is gifted with an abundance of spiritual energy, a rarity in the mortal world. Combined with the Jiang family's immortal zither, the music you play amplifies that energy tenfold. To humans, it sounds ethereal and soothing, but to a demon, it is a tonic that absorbs and heals. Am I correct, Miss Jiang?"

Jiang Xiaoman nodded.

There was no demonic energy in the world, so demons relied on absorbing spiritual energy to heal their wounds. The Jiang family’s immortal zithers were divided into healing and offensive types; the offensive ones were imbued with spells to break demons, while the healing ones amplified the user’s own energy. Cen Lan’s energy was gentle and mild, and her aunt’s zither was a healing artifact. Naturally, the combination was potent. She hadn't expected Ling Sichen to have researched her family's artifacts so thoroughly.

"The 'Trickster Sound' sought out households with mortals possessing high spiritual energy, absorbing it to heal its wounds. But the injuries were too severe, and the results were minimal. It drifted from place to place until it encountered the Second Miss—your music was a thousand times more effective than those others. It stayed by your side for no other reason than to be as close to the music as possible."

Jiang Xiaoman realized with a heavy heart: the demon had been addicted to the music. To ensure it wasn't disturbed while recovering, it had killed those who tried to steal the instrument.

Tears welled in Cen Lan’s eyes. She was too shocked to speak. After a long silence, she slowly sank to her knees, shaking and sobbing, her voice choked. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Jiang Xiaoman pulled her into an embrace, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, offering what comfort she could.

The woman trembled in her arms. It was only natural; to realize that the maid who had been by her side every moment was actually a demon in disguise would terrify anyone.

And that sorrowful "I'm sorry"—who could say if it was for the death of her maid Xing'er, or for the spiritual energy within her own body? Whether one’s spiritual energy was abundant or lacking was inherent at birth; whose fault could that be?

Ling Sichen comforted her, "You have not cultivated, so you do not know how to regulate or control your spiritual energy. Being exploited by a demon is not your fault."

The atmosphere in the room was heavy and silent.

Guard Ma lowered his gaze, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

Steward Zeng, having learned of the young man’s identity, spoke with an unprecedented level of respect, "But, Immortal, since you had arrived, why didn't you kill it immediately?"

Jiang Xiaoman thought: *That’s easy for you to say.*

Mortals imagined immortal cultivators to be omnipotent, as if slaying demons were their duty, not realizing that these disciples risked their lives and often met their ends at the hands of demons.

Ling Sichen replied, "I only deduced Taohong’s true form a short while ago. Furthermore, this demon is far more powerful than the water demon we faced; I did not have full confidence in a direct confrontation. Therefore, I have a plan, but I need the two of you to help." He turned to Steward Zeng. "Steward Zeng, please dismiss all patrolling servants tonight, especially those on the path to the back hills."

Steward Zeng nodded obediently, albeit looking a bit dazed.

Ling Sichen turned to Guard Ma. "Guard Ma, what is your stance? Though I must warn you, what I need you to do may be dangerous."

Guard Ma smiled. "What are you saying? I was already planning to turn myself in. If I can kill this evil monster and avenge my sister, my lowly life is a small price to pay! Tell me what you need."

Ling Sichen nodded in satisfaction, sat in a chair, and scanned the room before detailing his plan, word by word.

Guard Ma listened carefully, his expression unmoved. When the young immortal finished, he merely twitched the corner of his mouth, as if in deep thought.

Ling Sichen waited for his reply.

After a moment, Guard Ma let out a long sigh and spoke of other things. "Steward Zeng, do you remember that winter I caught a cold? The Master drove the carriage eighty miles himself to the clinic in the suburbs just to save me."

Steward Zeng nodded silently, his expression clouded with sadness as he remembered the late Master of the Cen family.

"Though I am a guard by title, the manor has always been peaceful, and the Master treated us like family. I haven't really done much of anything all these years," Guard Ma said with a scoff, showing his yellowing teeth. "I’m just a lowly worker, eating the manor’s food, and I owe the Master my life. I have no way to repay that in this lifetime, so giving this life for the Second Miss is a small matter. What you ask is nothing compared to that."

Cen Lan reached out, gripping Guard Ma’s calloused, rough hand tightly.

Ling Sichen smiled with relief, knowing the trap was set. "Miss Jiang and I will be hiding in the shadows. But you must be careful; if it suspects anything, both you and the Second Miss will be in danger."

Guard Ma nodded firmly, his resolve unshakeable.

*

With the trap sprung, the swordsman in white and the girl in green emerged from the tall grass.

While the demon was trapped and unable to move, the swordsman raised several more talismans. As he chanted, the talismans transformed into blades of golden light, carrying intense spiritual power as they struck at the demon.

The golden blades flew through the eye of the wind formation, but just as they were about to pierce the demon’s body, it let out a ferocious roar, forming a barrier of air around itself that blocked the light.

"Let me handle this!" Jiang Xiaoman gripped her immortal flute and began to play a melody of armor-shattering.

As an artifact, the flute was not as versatile as a zither, as offensive as a sheng, as hypnotic as a lute, or as healing as an ocarina. But its strength lay in its simplicity—it was easy to learn and very steady.

This armor-shattering melody was the most basic of basics. Jiang Xiaoman might not be great at other musical arts, but she had played this piece for her father so often that she could perform it effortlessly, even in her sleep.

As the flute melody swirled, the airflow around the demon gradually dissipated. Ling Sichen seized the moment and struck again—

With the sound of tearing flesh, the golden blades mercilessly pierced the back of the demon trapped within the formation. Blood splattered instantly, and the monster let out a heart-wrenching, soul-piercing wail of agony.