Chapter 4: Entering the Manor (Part 1)
She had naturally heard of the infamous Earth-tier demon known as Phantom Sound. These thirty-six Earth-tier demons were now recurring villains in mortal tales, each portrayed as more notorious than the last—she could recite their names by heart.
Since the celestial and demon war ended five hundred years ago, the four Heavenly-tier Demon Lords had vanished from the mortal realm, either slain or sealed away. Now, the Earth-tier demons were the strongest remaining fiends among humans. Some were former subordinates of the four great Demon Lords, others once elites of the demon world. Even the most skilled sect leaders, without the divine power of Penglai, found it difficult to defeat them in battle.
There was another peculiar trait: low-tier demons like the Xuan and Huang types were terrifying due to their grotesque forms, easily recognized and avoided. But Earth-tier demons were far more cunning—they could transform into human shape and hide among mortals.
Yet, a demon was still a demon. They fed on human flesh and souls. No matter how well they disguised themselves, when hunger struck, their hidden fangs would inevitably be revealed.
*
Ling Sicheng lowered his head and bent down to pick up the chopsticks that Jiang Xiaoman had dropped. With a flick of his spiritual energy, the dirt on them vanished. He handed the chopsticks back to her calmly and said, “Half a year ago, my elder brother pursued Phantom Sound, cornered it, and inflicted serious injuries. But at the last moment, he fell into a river and was saved by a water demon. For months afterward, my brother and I searched everywhere but found no trace of Phantom Sound.”
He paused, then added, “Later, we learned that a water demon appeared in Yangzhou, devouring dozens of people in just half a month… don’t you find that strange?”
Jiang Xiaoman took the chopsticks and pondered his words carefully.
Indeed, most water demons moved slowly and were not very aggressive, preferring to lurk in deep waters and rarely revealing themselves. Such frequent attacks on humans were unprecedented.
That was why tracking the water demon was no easy task. Upon hearing of its presence in Yangzhou, she had come here without hesitation.
Jiang Xiaoman scratched her head. “So you think this water demon is the one that saved Phantom Sound?”
Ling Sicheng did not answer directly but pulled out a paper from a stack.
“This is from Prefect Lin. It’s the list of victims from the recent water demon attacks.”
She took it, curious, and read:
[...
Zhang Zhong, guest of Mei Xue Manor, drowned near Willow River on September 24
Jian Erlang, short-term worker at Mei Xue Manor, drowned near Willow River on September 26
Xing’er, maid at Mei Xue Manor, drowned near Mei River on October 1
...]
Drowned themselves?
She looked again, making sure she hadn’t misread.
“These three who drowned themselves are considered victims too?”
“Yes. Witnesses say these people jumped into the water and struggled desperately to save themselves. But after a short struggle, the water demon appeared and dragged them under. Whether they jumped willingly or were lured into the water remains uncertain.”
Jiang Xiaoman clicked her tongue in pity—how tragic.
Yangzhou city was where the Willow and Plum Rivers met, and most victims were attacked along the riverbanks, which was understandable. But these three came from Mei Xue Manor, over a hundred miles from the city, surrounded by mountains with no water source nearby. Yet they had apparently walked barefoot all the way to the city outskirts and then voluntarily plunged into the river—how suspicious.
What a coincidence that all three were from the same manor. She absolutely refused to believe it had nothing to do with Phantom Sound, the Earth-tier demon known for its illusionary sound magic.
“The Prefect is careless. Didn’t he send anyone to investigate the manor?” she muttered.
Then she thought better of it—if they had sent ordinary mortals, it would have been a death sentence.
“Mei Xue Manor has been closed for several days due to water demon chaos. The good news is no one enters or leaves; the bad news is outsiders can’t get in either,” Ling Sicheng said as he folded the papers and slipped them into his robes. “Fortunately, on the eighth day of every lunar month, Madam Cen invites a famed imperial doctor to the manor for treatment. I arranged with Prefect Lin to intercept that doctor. You and I will disguise ourselves as the doctor and assistant to enter the manor and exterminate the demon.”
Jiang Xiaoman took a deep breath; today was the eighth day of the tenth lunar month.
She picked up the last few strands of noodles, trembling as she ate them, swallowing hastily after barely chewing.
Before this, the strongest demon she had ever faced was a low-tier one caught on her home training ground. She had never fought an Earth-tier demon in the wild before. How had she gotten so muddled into this matter?
Her lips quivered. “Even if you’re right that Phantom Sound is in Mei Xue Manor, just the two of us going in isn’t a suicide mission? I say, if ‘Wild Shadow Blade’ is so powerful, why isn’t he coming with us?”
The “Wild Shadow Blade” was Ling Beifeng, eldest son of the Ling family.
Among the immortal sects, many knew the Five Immortal Ancestors of Penglai, but few did not know of Wild Shadow Blade. His exploits—“Snowland chasing the Wind Eagle, wasteland extinguishing the Fire of Separation”—were a favorite topic among her senior brothers after meals and during leisure time. As her eldest brother said, even the sect leaders could not match his feat of slaying both the Wind Eagle and the Fire of Separation, two Earth-tier demons.
He must be one step away from transcending to immortality. If Penglai ever opened its gates and allowed him to be the first immortal in centuries, Jiang Xiaoman wouldn’t be surprised.
If they had a powerhouse like him, why bother disguising and playing roles?
Maybe they should call for reinforcements? Or wait until more senior brothers and sisters found her and they could combine their strength. That would be better than fighting alone.
When she mentioned Ling Beifeng, Ling Sicheng’s expression flickered briefly but quickly passed.
He finally remembered the bowl of noodles about to congeal, picked up his chopsticks, gently stirred, and forced down a bite.
The young man explained while eating, “Phantom Sound is cunning, not a reckless demon like others. It’s at its last breath now and will be more alert. It recognizes my brother’s face; it probably fled before we even got close.” At the end, his tone hinted at some dissatisfaction. “Besides, I’m pretty capable too.”
“Can I not go then?” Jiang Xiaoman blinked.
Ling Sicheng put down his chopsticks, tossed a coin on the table, and leisurely stood.
*
“Suit yourself, go back to the inn alone.”
“Hey, wait!” Jiang Xiaoman reconsidered, grabbing his sleeve. “Can you at least give me the water demon pill? If you die, I’ll still have to go to the manor to retrieve your body, won’t I?”
*
In the end, she went.
Ling Sicheng’s last glance at her was colder than the winter north wind. If she didn’t go, he was sure they wouldn’t get anyone back. Besides, she didn’t want to watch the demon pill fly away again.
The best hope was that Phantom Sound had already fled upon hearing their approach, and they’d wasted their trip.
Mei Xue Manor sat atop a quiet, unnamed hill west of Yangzhou’s main city. Along the way, cypress trees surrounded them, streams babbled, and the scenery was refreshing, so they did not feel tired.
On the journey, Ling Sicheng updated Jiang Xiaoman on the manor’s situation. Cen Sanbian had passed away six years earlier, and now the manor’s affairs were mostly managed by his eldest daughter and her husband. However, the key decisions remained with his widow, Madam Cui, the matriarch of the Cen family.
Cen Sanbian had two daughters and no sons. The eldest, Cen Qiuniang, had taken a son-in-law; the younger daughter remained unmarried.
The eldest daughter was a renowned female musician in the city, skilled at playing the qin like her father. She usually taught the children of noble families, but with the manor’s closure, she had to suspend her lessons.
Among the three victims, one was a maid named Xing’er who served the eldest daughter; another was a new laborer named Jian; the third was a qin player, Zhang Zhong, from Liangzhou’s Tang County, who had come a month earlier to exchange musical skills.
“Madam Cen has passed away,” Jiang Xiaoman sighed.
Years ago, when she was a child, her elders would return from demon hunts in Yangzhou and praise the music of Mr. Cen at Mei Xue Manor. They said he was lost in worldly pleasures, uninterested in cultivating immortality, and her father had sighed thrice in regret.
Such is the impermanence of life.
...
After three hours’ travel, the sun dipped westward, the mountains bathed in golden light.
They arrived outside the manor.
The gate was imposing, with heavy wooden doors firmly shut. On either side stood red pillars carved with jade railings, exuding refined elegance. A plaque above the gate bore the four characters: “Mei Xue Manor,” written in an elegant and dignified script.
Jiang Xiaoman was still examining the plaque when Ling Sicheng whispered.
“There’s a barrier.”
She spread her arms and waved them in front, “Where? I don’t see one.”
The white-clad youth looked at her, hesitating to speak several times.
“An anti-breath barrier,” he finally said slowly.
“Oh!” Jiang Xiaoman understood, then gathered her spiritual energy and gently probed. When her hand touched the silken barrier, she was surprised.
No wonder she hadn’t noticed it. Compared to the common anti-object barriers, the invisible anti-breath barrier was rarely used these days and far more intricate. She had only read about such barriers in books and was seeing one for the first time now.
It was a fine, dense layer, like a spider’s web surrounding the gate, an invisible shield that perfectly isolated the air inside and outside the manor.
“Who set it? Someone from an immortal sect?”
Ling Sicheng replied coolly, “Whatever it is, it’s not from the Ling family.”
She felt a little embarrassed; she was not skilled in barrier arts, so she couldn’t tell if it was from the Jiang family either. But it was common now for wealthy families to hire immortal cultivators to set barriers for protection.
Ling Sicheng prepared to approach but seemed uneasy and turned back to ask:
“Do you remember everything I told you on the way?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, said no more, and knocked on the door.
Knock, knock, knock—
While waiting, Jiang Xiaoman anxiously whispered, “What if Phantom Sound isn’t inside?”
Ling Sicheng calmly replied, “Then we treat Madam as normal and leave after.”
Jiang Xiaoman silently wished for luck.
Knock, knock, knock—
He knocked three more times.
Jiang Xiaoman said nothing, nervously rubbing her hands.
...
Creak—
The door opened.
A person dressed in servant’s clothes peeked out, though their attire was more elaborate than a typical footman; no doubt the manor’s steward. Behind stood a man with leopard eyes, black beard, and a bear’s bulk, his hand tightly gripping a knife hilt—probably the manor’s famed stablemaster.
Ling Sicheng smiled politely and bowed. “My surname is Ling, an imperial doctor from the capital, sent by the Prefect to treat the old madam. This is the Prefect’s recommendation letter.”
The steward looked suspicious at first but brightened after reading the letter. “So you’re the renowned ‘Divine Healer’ Ling. Long have I heard your name. Please, come in.”
He cheerfully ushered them inside. The stablemaster relaxed and stepped aside.
The steward beamed. “It’s a long journey. Doctor Ling, you must be exhausted.”
Ling Sicheng replied calmly, “Not at all. Your manor is located in a place of great feng shui, so the journey was smooth.”
Jiang Xiaoman silently followed but was still scrutinized by the steward.
He sized her up. “And this is?”
Ling Sicheng quickly said, “She’s my medicine assistant, named Xiaoman, and she’s mute.”
Medicine assistant?
Weren’t they supposed to be traveling musicians?
“No!” The girl’s voice rang clear and bright like a silver bell.
The two words fell like a sudden hush. Ling Sicheng glanced back, seeing Jiang Xiaoman glaring at him in fury.
The steward frowned. “I thought you said she was mute?”
Ling Sicheng awkwardly smiled. “She used to be mute, but under my secret treatments, she can now say simple words like ‘yes’ and ‘no.’”
The steward nodded in understanding. “I see! No wonder you’re the ‘Divine Healer.’”
Jiang Xiaoman’s eyes rolled so hard it was nearly audible.
Keep making it up.
Divine Healer my foot—stealing someone else’s title shamelessly! And she was even carrying her sword—has anyone ever seen a medicine assistant carry a sword?
*
In truth, the moment they stepped inside, both knew they had come to the right place.
A choking stench of demonic energy hit them immediately, almost suffocating.
Luckily, the barrier prevented any of this thick aura from leaking outside. Phantom Sound must be either recklessly brazen or so badly wounded it no longer cared that its demonic energy spread freely.
Ling Sicheng gave Jiang Xiaoman a subtle look, and she nodded in response.
As they passed through the front courtyard, Jiang Xiaoman took advantage of the steward’s distraction to slip away quietly and hide in a corner like a passing breeze—silent and unseen.
Once the steward led Ling Sicheng away, she emerged leisurely.
She glanced around, then gently removed a pendant from her neck and murmured an incantation. The red mark on the pendant glowed faintly, and a small spirit bird leapt out, fluttering gracefully.
With demonic energy swirling everywhere, human senses could not discern its source. But for a sharp-nosed spirit companion, it was no trouble.
The little bird perched on her shoulder, bowing its head to skillfully track the demon’s aura, occasionally flapping its wings to guide her direction.
Following the spirit bird’s lead, Jiang Xiaoman moved deeper into the vast manor.
Beyond the front yard lay another large courtyard, surrounded by high walls, with servants holding lanterns guarding the gate.
The main entrance was likely impassable. Although she could fly over with immortal arts, her Chengguang acupoint was obstructed, preventing her from gathering spiritual energy for long. Fortunately, the walls weren’t too high…
Just as Jiang Xiaoman was about to act, the bird suddenly lifted its head.
“Yue’er?” she wondered, then immediately sensed something wrong.
In an instant, the demonic aura inside the manor vanished completely.
Jiang Xiaoman’s senses went on high alert—what happened? Had she been detected?
Her heart jumped to her throat, all her hairs standing on end, fearing something might appear at any moment.
But the surroundings were eerily quiet, even the occasional chirping of insects could be heard.
Yet, just then, the once-thick demonic aura had utterly disappeared.
Jiang Xiaoman thought again—could it be Ling Sicheng’s doing?
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pat on her back—