Chapter 9: Shrouded in Mist (Part 2)

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"I was merely speaking casually; there’s no need for alarm, sir," Mr. Baihua said with a smile.

He walked a few steps further, paused, and then added, "However, recently, there have been disturbances caused by water demons on the outskirts of Yangzhou City. The manor hasn’t been peaceful either, has it?"

Manager Zeng slapped his chest. "Indeed, three people in the manor were devoured by that creature. Everyone has been living in constant fear. Only in the past couple of days have we heard that the monster was finally killed, so we could finally sleep soundly."

"Three people died in the manor, yet you don’t seem particularly grief-stricken," Mr. Baihua remarked.

Manager Zeng fell silent for a moment upon hearing this.

"Jian Erlang had been here less than half a year. He was unscrupulous and always trying to benefit himself. He did very little work but took the most pay. Everyone had already held grudges against him. The qin player, as Madam said, was mediocre and only knew how to flatter the old lady, freeloading for nearly a month. Both of them lived without virtue, so their demise at the hands of the monster was perhaps fate’s judgment. Only Xing’er... ah, she was a pitiful soul."

"Do you believe they were killed by a demon?" Mr. Baihua asked.

Realizing he might have said too much, Manager Zeng quickly sealed his lips.

Mr. Baihua, fanning himself slowly, did not press further.

After some internal struggle, Manager Zeng continued, "Since you ask, I won’t hide it. Though it was publicly said that the three died by accident in the river, the matter is far stranger."

"How so?"

"I only found out after inquiring outside the manor. They wandered several hundred miles in a trance-like state late at night all the way to the city, and just before dawn, they suddenly jumped into the river. It’s said they looked possessed..." His voice trembled slightly, revealing his unease. He added, "And after Xing’er’s accident, ghostly shadows have been seen in her room. Now, no one dares approach it except for Horse Guard Ma."

Mr. Baihua said nothing, appearing deep in thought.

After a moment, he stopped and turned to ask, "During those nights of their deaths, did you hear any singing?"

Manager Zeng was startled, confused. "Singing?"

"A short, spontaneous melody."

"No, no singing," Manager Zeng denied briskly.

"No matter, it was just a casual question," Mr. Baihua chuckled lightly and resumed walking. "Let’s go see where Miss Xing’er lives."

A short melody? Jiang Xiaoman frowned.

In noble families, refined pastimes such as qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting were esteemed as elegant; singing was considered vulgar entertainment, fit only for street performers.

The Meixue Mountain Manor was renowned for its sophistication—how could it tolerate singers?

Lost in thought, Jiang Xiaoman noticed Mr. Baihua glance sideways toward her hiding spot.

Startled, she shrank back.

Fortunately, it was a false alarm. Mr. Baihua only paused briefly before continuing inside with Manager Zeng.

*

The afternoon wind blew fiercely, shaking the branches and leaves of several poplars in the courtyard. Though the poplars were not tall, they surrounded a small patch of lush green grass—just enough to conceal Jiang Xiaoman.

The left courtyard was vast. Entering through a small gate and walking a hundred steps along a weed-ridden bluestone path, one would reach the courtyard encircled by two side wings. Each wing had its own character: the east wing was grand, and the west wing was quaint.

Mr. Baihua stood quietly before the west wing, seemingly scrutinizing the carved decorations on the porch pillars.

He was interrupted by Manager Zeng: "The second young lady stays in the west wing. Madam’s quarters are in the east wing. Please come this way, sir."

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So, Manager Zeng led Mr. Baihua to the east wing.

"Why does Miss Xing’er not live in the back courtyard?"

"Xing’er is special. She’s Madam’s personal maid. To attend to Madam’s daily needs conveniently, she has always lived in a side room of the wing."

Just as Manager Zeng was about to send someone to fetch Horse Guard Ma, a woman appeared at the door. Her gait was light and graceful, her figure elegant, bearing a slight weariness in her expression—none other than Cen Qiu.

Cen Qiu paused momentarily, her face flickering with anxiety before settling into her usual smile. "Sir, are you here to perform a ritual to dispel evil in the side room? I just got the keys from Old Ma. I’ll take you there."

As she spoke, Jiang Xiaoman recognized her as the woman previously speaking with Cen Yuan outside the alchemy room. She wondered why a married couple’s conversation required such furtive secrecy at a corner of the courtyard.

Mr. Baihua folded his fan and bowed.

Manager Zeng looked concerned. "If Madam is indisposed, shall I go instead?"

Cen Qiu smiled gently but nervously rubbed the hem of her skirt. "No, no inconvenience at all. Xing’er is my responsibility; I’m not afraid..."

With that, she went back inside to fetch the keys, then led Mr. Baihua toward the side room. She fumbled slightly with the lock, trying several times before it finally opened.

Embarrassed, she smiled awkwardly. Mr. Baihua didn’t seem to mind and stepped in first.

*

Soon after, the two exited, exchanged a few words, and bowed politely. Jiang Xiaoman’s hiding spot was far away, their voices too soft for her to hear.

Once Mr. Baihua left with Manager Zeng and Cen Qiu returned inside, Jiang Xiaoman tiptoed to the side room.

She knew little of Xing’er, only that like Tao Hong, she was a personal maid with a status slightly above ordinary servants. It was said that when she was bought into the manor, Cen Qiu was still a maiden, and they grew up together as close as sisters.

Regarding the haunted room—Jiang Xiaoman, as a cultivator, firmly believed that the world contained only demons, not ghosts. Both sacred texts and ancestral teachings stated: unlike demons, humans die and that’s the end. If one refuses death, the only path is to cultivate immortality.

Tales of ghosts were mere mortal attachments to fleeting lives, and she refused to believe in them. Even if supernatural phenomena occurred, it was demons playing tricks.

She glanced at the locked door and carefully poked a hole in the paper window, pressing her eye to peer inside.

The room was simple: a bed, a table, three wooden cabinets, and two chairs neatly arranged—a typical servant’s quarters.

Yet Jiang Xiaoman noticed subtle anomalies: the cabinets had been moved. A thick layer of dust on the floor bore a long trace where a cabinet had been shifted. Though faint, it escaped no scrutiny.

She had honed her sharp eyes from years of quietly observing her fellow disciples at home when tired of reading.

Mr. Baihua and Cen Qiu had been inside less than the duration of an incense stick—there was neither time nor reason to move the cabinets. Who else could have entered this locked room?

A chill crept into Jiang Xiaoman’s heart.

It was said that great demons could transform their qi, making ordinary wards ineffective. That was why Penglai had used the strongest spirit-binding barriers to seal the demon realm gate. Thus, bypassing this door lock would be child’s play.

Could it be a bewitching sound?

...

"Cough cough."

Startled, Jiang Xiaoman whirled around. The man before her fanned himself, lips curled with a sly smile. It was none other than Mr. Baihua, wearing half a mask.

Beside him stood a burly figure, wielding a sword hilt, his face grim and angry—Horse Guard Ma.

"Young lady, you’ve followed me here. Do you have something to say?" Mr. Baihua asked, fox-like.

Jiang Xiaoman’s heart sank. Whether it was her poor stealth or his keen senses, she was discovered and even intercepted by the guard.

Trouble indeed!

Mr. Baihua glanced sideways at his companion and remarked, "Horse Guard Ma, it seems your manor harbors many secrets."

Horse Guard Ma’s face darkened further. Bowing, he said, "Sir, you startled me. I will take her to see Madam immediately."

Jiang Xiaoman stood dumbfounded as the muscular guard stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and dragged her away without a word.

Unable to resist due to her assumed weak-female role, she had no choice but to comply. Glancing back, she saw Mr. Baihua waving cheerfully in farewell.

This man was both mysterious and infuriating!

*

Dragged by Horse Guard Ma, Jiang Xiaoman felt three parts helplessness and seven parts luck.

Helpless because, despite her modest spiritual power, she could easily break free from a mortal. Yet, playing the weak woman, she dared not resist.

Lucky because Ling Sicheng’s medicine pills were still simmering in the crystal cauldron. Her cover as a medicine servant was solid. If she met Madam, she could feign getting lost on the way to the privy.

Just as she was about to exit the courtyard, she caught sight of two familiar figures.

An idea sparked. She suddenly stopped struggling and protested loudly, "Ah! Ah!"

"Behave!" Horse Guard Ma growled, impatient.

Cen Lan had just entered the left courtyard, closely followed by her maid Tao Hong. They were about to return to their rooms but were drawn by the commotion.

Following the sound, Cen Lan saw Jiang Xiaoman at the gate, pitifully flailing while being “escorted” by Horse Guard Ma.

"Stop!" she shouted, rushing over. "Uncle Ma, what is the meaning of this?"

"Second Miss," Horse Guard Ma released Jiang Xiaoman and bowed respectfully. "The sir is performing an exorcism. This girl sneaked after him secretly; I don’t know her intentions. This must be reported to Madam."

Jiang Xiaoman pouted and shook her head vehemently.

Cen Lan glanced at her and fell silent for a moment.

"Please excuse me," Horse Guard Ma prepared to grab Jiang Xiaoman’s arm again but was interrupted.

"Wait!" Cen Lan cleared her throat and said casually, "Uncle Ma, you’ve misunderstood. I sent her."

Horse Guard Ma and Jiang Xiaoman both widened their eyes.

"I’ve been dizzy these days, so I had the divine doctor prepare some medicine for me. I asked Miss Xiaoman to deliver it to my room," she explained. "I suppose she entered the wrong room by mistake. Uncle Ma, please don’t be angry."

Though doubtful, Horse Guard Ma said no more. His expression remained stern, but his brows relaxed slightly.

Cen Lan took the opportunity to grab Jiang Xiaoman’s hand and led her toward her wing.

"The west wing is this way. Come quickly."

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