13 Signs Begin to Emerge (3)

Why do demons kill people?

This question has troubled humanity for over a thousand years. Tianyuan Immortal Lord, who has dealt with demons for nearly five thousand years, once offered an answer.

There are only two reasons:

First, hunger. Just as humans need grains and food, demons feed on the spiritual energy within the human body. When extremely hungry, they even gnaw on tendons, bones, and flesh, which to them seems like a delicacy.

Second, interest. The lower-level demons have a stronger desire to feed, while the higher-level celestial and terrestrial demons rarely need to consume human blood or flesh; for them, killing is more about instinct and pleasure.

Because of this, some terrestrial-level demons boldly leave their names at the scene of each killing.

But if Guiyin, as rumored, is so cautious and sensitive—someone who would flee at the first sign of danger—how could she so brazenly leave her mark, announcing herself to the world?

...

As Jiang Xiaoman was lost in thought, a few tired, worn-out coughs suddenly reached her ears, pulling her back to reality.

At this moment, in the east wing of the left courtyard.

The woman lying on the bed appeared pale as paper, her eyes tightly shut, with beads of sweat trickling down her forehead.

Though her coughs were weak, they tugged at the hearts of those quietly watching nearby. The maids’ faces all shifted from worry to joy.

Jiang Xiaoman saw this and breathed a long sigh of relief. It seemed Ling Sicheng’s secret injection of spiritual energy through acupuncture had not been in vain. Though immortal energy cannot cure every illness, it could temporarily strengthen the body.

Seeing the patient improve, the tense expression on Ling Sicheng’s face finally relaxed, returning to his usual calm demeanor. He stood up, and a nearby maid quickly stepped forward, bending by the bed to wipe the sweat from Cen Qiu’s forehead with a cloth dipped in warm water.

“Let’s go.” Ling Sicheng packed away his medical bag, gave Jiang Xiaoman a subtle glance, then picked up the Cold Star Sword resting by his feet and slung it behind his back.

Fortunately, he had wrapped the sword several times with a thin cloth before leaving, making it look somewhat like a traditional acupuncture case. Otherwise, someone might have wondered why a physician carried a weapon.

As soon as he opened the door, Cen Lan arrived with Tao Hong, likely waiting outside for some time.

“How is my sister? Is she alright?” Cen Lan’s face was full of worry.

Jiang Xiaoman approached, quietly linking her arm with Cen Lan’s and gently patting her shoulder. Cen Lan had been quite shaken earlier, and this small gesture was all she could offer to comfort her.

Ling Sicheng cautiously studied Cen Lan before slowly speaking, “Your sister was merely overly frightened. With proper rest and recuperation, she will recover.”

Jiang Xiaoman noticed his expression and frowned slightly.

At this point, was he still suspicious of Cen Lan?

Cen Lan’s face gradually softened after hearing this, and Jiang Xiaoman felt her stiff body relax somewhat.

She nodded, “Thank you, Divine Physician.”

Ling Sicheng smiled faintly in return, then quickly changed the subject.

“However, there is something I do not understand. Miss Cen, may I ask you about it?”

“Please, Divine Physician, go ahead.”

Ling Sicheng pulled a bracelet from his sleeve. Jiang Xiaoman’s sharp eyes immediately recognized it as the item from the bundle brought back last night.

“Do you recognize this?”

Cen Lan took the bracelet, examined it carefully, then showed it to Tao Hong behind her. After a brief exchange, they came to a conclusion:

“This looks like Xing’er’s.”

Ling Sicheng raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”

Cen Lan nodded, “She seldom wore jewelry, but once entrusted me with pawning a bracelet much like this one. They should be a pair.”

Jiang Xiaoman was somewhat surprised by this. Ling Sicheng frowned slightly. Cen Yuan had secretly buried something at night—and it turned out to be Xing’er’s personal belonging?

Cen Lan looked up, puzzled. “Where did the Divine Physician find this?”

Ling Sicheng answered immediately, “In your brother-in-law’s pocket.”

Jiang Xiaoman glanced at him; well done—telling a lie without a flicker of emotion, far better than her.

Cen Lan said nothing, showing little reaction, as if she had expected it.

Ling Sicheng smiled, “You don’t seem surprised, Miss Cen.”

Cen Lan opened her mouth to speak but swallowed her words.

Seeing her silence, Ling Sicheng did not press further and changed the topic.

“There is one more thing. I heard that the day before Zhang Zhong’s accident, Miss Cen left the manor and returned late at night. I am curious—may I ask the purpose of your outing?”

“Enough already...” Seeing him continuing to probe, Jiang Xiaoman quickly intervened. First, they were posing as a physician and servant, not government agents. Second, Cen Lan’s expression darkened, and even her maid Tao Hong looked displeased. Clearly, this was not a question they wished to answer.

Ling Sicheng saw Cen Lan’s refusal and smiled to ease the tension.

“It was just a casual question. Miss Cen, please do not take it to heart.” With that, he nodded politely and took his leave.

Jiang Xiaoman hurried to say goodbye to Cen Lan and followed him.

However, after only a few steps, Cen Lan called out from behind.

“Divine Physician, please wait.”

They stopped and turned around.

Cen Lan hesitated, her eyes flickering before settling with resolve.

“Actually, I have something to ask about Xing’er. Could you please come with me to talk?”

*

Cen Lan led them to a quiet corner of the courtyard. After looking around to ensure no one was near, she whispered a few instructions to Tao Hong, who then discreetly retreated.

The atmosphere grew still; the two waited silently for Cen Lan to speak.

She looked somewhat nervous, took a moment to collect herself, then began slowly.

“I can answer any questions you have about what I was asked earlier. But before that, I have something to ask you both. May I trust you to answer honestly?”

Faced with her sudden seriousness, Jiang Xiaoman felt a rising unease.

Ling Sicheng remained calm and said, “Go ahead.”

Cen Lan took a deep breath, her tone steady but firm.

“You are not really a physician, and Miss Xiaoman is not a medical servant, correct?”

This question made Jiang Xiaoman uneasy. She glanced anxiously at Ling Sicheng, whose expression remained composed.

After a pause, he admitted, “That is correct.”

Jiang Xiaoman felt a mixture of worry and relief—was this the moment to reveal everything?

Cen Lan smiled faintly and then asked, “Are you both members of the Immortal Sect?”

This surprised not only Jiang Xiaoman but also caused Ling Sicheng to frown slightly. Just as he was about to respond, Cen Lan suddenly dropped to her knees.

Jiang Xiaoman was shocked and called out, “A Lan!” rushing to help her up.

Before they reached her, Cen Lan abruptly raised her hand, seemingly clutching a crimson lacquered wooden token.

Without waiting for a reply, she said, “I already know you come from the Immortal Sect. I beg you to grant me one request. I swear to tell you everything else.”

Her words were urgent and earnest, leaving Jiang Xiaoman somewhat at a loss.

Ling Sicheng pondered briefly, then said, “Speak. What is it?”

His tacit approval brightened Cen Lan’s eyes.

She opened her palm, revealing the wooden token—an appointment token.

If one were to distinguish mortals from cultivators, it lies in their belief: mortals trust fate and reincarnation, while cultivators do not. In their eyes, everything aside from immortals and demons is fleeting, and mortal lives are self-determined. Yet mortals believe destiny is ordained by heaven, and the immortal island of Penglai oversees mortal fate and reincarnation.

Thus, whenever a child is born in the mortal realm, their family crafts a fate token, which holds the soul after death. Only by handing it to the Immortal Sect for rituals can the soul find peace and reincarnation.

This tradition, spanning centuries, forms a bridge between the Immortal Sect and the mortal world. Whether the Immortal Sect believes in it is one matter; whether they perform the rites is another. Each year, disciples from the sect travel across provinces to collect fate tokens of the deceased, maintaining this custom.

The Jiang family of Tuzhou collects thousands of these tokens yearly. The senior brothers and sisters who perform the rituals often spend days in the Fate Token Hall. When Jiang Xiaoman was idle at home, she often helped during this season and had come to recognize many tokens at a glance.

Cen Lan said, “This is Xing’er’s fate token. Please, Divine Physician and Miss, take it back to the Immortal Sect so that Xing’er may rest in peace.”

Jiang Xiaoman understood. Normally, the season for collecting fate tokens had passed, and if Cen Lan waited, she would have to wait until next year. But given the manor’s attitude toward the Immortal Sect, even then, they likely would refuse to hand over the token.

“Please get up...” Jiang Xiaoman tried to help Cen Lan, but sensed she was quietly resisting, remaining perfectly still.

Ling Sicheng was about to speak when Jiang Xiaoman quickly grabbed the token.

“I will take it back!” she nodded earnestly to Cen Lan.

Ling Sicheng glanced at her, his expression softening. He said nothing further.

Cen Lan’s worry turned to joy as she finally rose.

Jiang Xiaoman sighed softly.

Zhang Zhong’s and Jian Er’s fate tokens were probably with her family, but Xing’er was just a lonely servant girl. In these times, servants were like drifting dust. Who would keep a servant’s fate token?

But Cen Lan would.

Moreover, the entire Meixue Manor seemed to avoid the Immortal Sect, and Cen Lan revealing their identities only to entrust the servant’s fate token—that showed remarkable kindness.

Jiang Xiaoman was even more curious about how their identities had been exposed.

Ling Sicheng shared her curiosity.

“When did you start suspecting?”

“It’s not suspicion,” Cen Lan shook her head gently, her tone resolute. “From the moment I saw Miss Xiaoman, I knew she was from the Immortal Sect.”

“Why!?” Jiang Xiaoman gasped, blurting out in urgency.

Ling Sicheng glanced sideways at her, clearly asking, “What did you do?”

Not to mention him, Jiang Xiaoman herself was puzzled. Was her acting really that poor? Reviewing her past words and deeds, she searched for any missteps that might have revealed them, but found nothing. A tangle of questions clouded her face.

Cen Lan smiled softly, her gaze clear as water, fixed unblinkingly on her.

“You and she look so alike, Jiang Xiaoman...” Cen Lan muttered her name and chuckled bitterly, “And, of all things, you share the surname Jiang.”

Jiang Xiaoman’s unspoken question was voiced by Ling Sicheng:

“Who is ‘she’?”

Cen Lan answered, “A woman my mother detests with all her heart.”