24 The Moment of Final Reckoning (3)

At the Hour of the Ox, a sinister wind howled, and cacophonous sounds erupted from all directions.

Although it should have been a time for deep slumber, not a single soul in the Mei Xue Villa dared to close their eyes tonight.

In the main chamber of the east courtyard, the elderly Madam Cen and her daughter, Cen Qiu, clung to each other, sitting upon the bed. The old woman gripped her daughter’s ice-cold hands tightly, occasionally wiping the beads of cold sweat from her forehead with a gentle touch.

They had already heard the full sequence of events from Steward Zeng: the fate of the bodyguard, Ma, the true identities of the miraculous doctor and his servant, and the demon that had been lurking in the villa, disguised as a maidservant.

Clutching her trembling eldest daughter to her chest, the seventy-year-old woman could only sigh in helpless resignation: "It is fate—it is all mere fate."

Outside, sharp, blood-curdling screams and the frantic sound of running footsteps echoed intermittently. The servants within the villa were wailing and scurrying about, as panicked as birds startled by a bowstring. The once peaceful and harmonious villa was now like a shattered jade ornament, its pieces scattered across the floor.

Before the door of the main chamber, a lonely figure sat leaning against a pillar on the stone steps. It was Steward Zeng, clutching a pitchfork scavenged from the storehouse. His hunched back was curved like a bow, and his expression was grave and heavy, yet firm as a rock. Even though his body was no longer as strong as it had been in his youth, he had steeled himself to give his very life to protect the old Madam and the young mistress inside, right until the final moment.

He stared at the circle of talismans pasted upon the courtyard wall, praying in his heart that they might hold some power.

Suddenly, urgent pounding came from the gate of the courtyard, like a torrential downpour before a storm. Judging by the frantic sound, it seemed to be the servants from the west courtyard.

Steward Zeng called out, and the few remaining men mustered their courage to open the gate. As it swung wide, three servants stumbled in, rushing forward in a state of terror.

"The west courtyard—that thing went to the west courtyard!" the leader cried, his mind shattered by fear, collapsing to the ground after only a few steps.

Another gasped for breath, "I only saw it for a glance! It looked small, but it was truly terrifying!"

The last one pointed toward the west courtyard. "I—I saw Big Liu and Cui’er lying on the ground in a pool of blood. I suspect they are already gone..."

Upon hearing this, Steward Zeng stood up, slapping his thigh, though he secretly let out a sigh of relief: *At least it did not come to the east courtyard.*

He had the foresight to bring the young mistress here beforehand. It was only a pity for the servants left behind in the west.

"How many people are left in the west courtyard?" Steward Zeng asked calmly.

"Those who could run have likely escaped," the servant replied. "The rest... I believe they have hidden themselves in the alchemy room."

Steward Zeng nodded. "And where is the monster now?"

"East—no, wait, the west side chamber! It must have gone into the west side chamber!"

*

The demon, Guiyin, raced along, cutting down any mortal it encountered with a wave of its hand, sending blades of baleful energy slicing through the air. Jiang Xiaoman was gripped by the throat, suffering immensely. In a daze, she could only hear the sound of walls collapsing, followed by rhythmic explosions. In her peripheral vision, she saw the servants who blocked their path struck by the energy blades; blood sprayed as they fell into pools of gore in an instant.

The lives of mortals were as fragile as paper, shattered by the slightest touch.

Grief and terror intertwined within her, yet shackled by the demonic energy, she could not struggle. Coupled with the incredible speed of Guiyin’s movement, the wind whistled around her like a knife, cutting her skin so sharply she could barely open her eyes. She only vaguely felt as if she had been brought into a room.

Once inside, Guiyin threw Jiang Xiaoman heavily onto the floor.

The moment she hit the ground, Jiang Xiaoman felt as if her spine had snapped. The monster’s strength was overwhelming, and she could not help but lament the vast disparity in raw power between man and demon.

The monster pressed her firmly against the floor; its heavy claws felt like a thousand-ton boulder, leaving her completely unable to move. With the demonic claw pinning her chest, she felt a thin thread of demonic energy slowly seeping in from the center of its palm, piercing her lungs like shards of ice, sending a bone-chilling cold through her.

Fortunately, the first lesson taught in the Immortal Sect’s self-preservation course was how to form a spiritual shield within the body to resist demonic intrusion. Gritting her teeth, she channeled her energy and finally managed to block that strand of corruption.

Following that, however, came the sensation of her spiritual power being drained away.

She thought she would weep uncontrollably, but she was surprisingly calm. She clenched her teeth, enduring the intense discomfort throughout her body and the excruciating pain in her spine. Even her heartbeat, which had been racing wildly just moments ago, gradually began to settle.

Knowing she was certain to die, she no longer felt afraid.

...

*Thump, thump, thump.*

Jiang Xiaoman listened to her own calm, slow heartbeat, sensing her spiritual power slowly ebbing away. Her limbs grew soft and powerless, her body felt as if it were being gnawed by a thousand insects and submerged in freezing ice, with every inch of her skin stinging in agony.

In her mind, a reel of her life flashed past with lightning speed.

What emerged were the three most profound fragments of her short nineteen years of life...

[At the time of her birth.]

She was born on the night of "Xiaoman" (Grain Buds) in the fourth month. It should have been a night of joy, but a tempest of wind and rain raged. Her biological mother, Madam Jing, could not endure the night and passed away suddenly after giving birth to her. These were things she had heard from her wet nurse later.

Having "cursed her mother to death," she should have been seen as a star of ill omen, but her family and fellow sect members never spoke of it, instead treating her as the apple of their eye, protecting her with all their might.

When she was three, she uttered her first long sentence while learning to speak—"When I grow up, I want to be as powerful as Father"—but she immediately felt a sharp pain in her belly and fainted, followed by three days of high, persistent fever. From that point on, her dream of being "as powerful as Father" was shattered.

[The bloom of youth.]

That year, her senior brother brought back a golden egg.

One day, with the spring sunlight just right, she was wandering in the courtyard when she heard someone call her name from above. She looked up and saw her senior brother sitting in the branches.

He asked her, "Next month is when you start learning Beast Control. Have you thought about which spirit pet you want to train?"

She shook her head.

Her senior brother smiled gently, jumped down from the tree, and took her hand. "Here."

She looked up, puzzled.

Her senior brother continued, "I tell you, this Snow Mountain Golden Sparrow only lays one egg every ten years, and this time, it’s a rare double-yolk! How many people would kill for this? I brought it specifically for you. I’ll teach you how to use your spiritual energy to hatch it later. From now on, these two little ones will follow you."

"Thank you, Senior Brother!" She held the golden egg, looking at it over and over, unable to put it down.

[The year of her coming-of-age.]

That year was also her father’s fortieth birthday banquet.

It happened that his birthday was close to the day of the sacrifice to the Divine Dragon, so the sect was exceptionally lively during those days. Seeing everyone busy and decorating with lanterns, she wanted to take the opportunity to add something unique to the festivities.

So, when the evening banquet arrived, she took a deep breath, stepped forward, and under everyone’s gaze, spoke in a clear, resonant voice: "I wish my father a life as vast as Penglai and as long as the Kunlun Mountains!"

But she saw her father’s chopsticks drop from his hand.

Then came a "thump"—unsurprisingly, she collapsed to the ground.

Later, her father told her earnestly that it wasn't a surprise, but a fright. He knew it was her intention and understood how much she wanted to speak freely in front of others, but he was even less willing to see her suffer from the onset of her illness.

After her father left, she cried a river of tears—aggrieved, frustrated, and full of helplessness.

And now, she wished she could fly back immediately to tell her father the good news—she could finally communicate normally! Although it was limited only to the young master Ling, it was still a major breakthrough from nothing. She was certain that if her father knew this, he would feel deeply gratified and joyful.

Regrettably, she would not live to see that day.

—She did not understand.

She did not understand why such monsters were born into the world, and why they had to devour and kill humans. Since demons and humans could communicate through speech, why could they not live in harmony?

—She felt ridiculous, like a rabbit foolishly attempting to discuss coexistence with a savage tiger.

The monster seemed to have finished feeding; it stretched its limbs, released Jiang Xiaoman, and stood up.

Jiang Xiaoman slumped on the ground, clutching her chest, gasping for air, her voice fragmented: "You... why... must you do this... *cough, cough*... why... must you kill?"

"Shut up," Guiyin said viciously. "I never converse with ants from beyond the heavens."

*Ants from beyond the heavens?*

Jiang Xiaoman did not fully understand what it meant, but "ant" was clearly not a kind word.

The monster stared at her coldly with its blood-red eyes, then raised a finger to its ear and pulled sharply. With a "rip," it tore away the wrinkled outer layer of its skin.

Only then did Jiang Xiaoman realize that the Great Demon’s true face was no different from an ordinary person's. It was the face of a delicate and pretty woman, though it clashed with the small horns on its head, the blood-red eyes, and the sharp fangs. Added to that was a hook-shaped mark at the corner of its eye, which lent a touch of cruelty to its features.

She had expected the monster to be far more hideous and terrifying; she had not expected it to be so "human."

It leaned over, one hand gripping Jiang Xiaoman’s throat again, while the other used its sharp claws to stroke her cheek. The nails were like needles, and Jiang Xiaoman felt the cold, sharp points grazing her jaw.

Was it going to peel her face off... while she was still alive? Would it hurt?

She wondered what it would do after stealing her identity. Would it go to Tuzhou and harm her father and the others?

Jiang Xiaoman’s throat was held so tightly that her face turned pale, and her lips trembled uncontrollably from the cold. She emitted a hoarse moan, her breath weak: "After you kill me... please... do not harm anyone else..."

She squeezed the words out with difficulty, but Guiyin tightened its grip, rendering her unable to make another sound.

"Shut up. You talk too much." The monster’s pupils constricted suddenly. In an instant, rolling demonic energy surged into its hand, and it slammed a palm into Jiang Xiaoman’s body—

Jiang Xiaoman let out a hoarse cry, though she could barely make a sound. She felt a surge of overwhelming cold energy instantly invade her body, tearing at her flesh.

Her consciousness was fading.

With the demonic energy entering her body, it would melt her organs and bones. Her remaining spiritual energy was nowhere near enough to resist this flood of corruption. She would surely die in extreme agony soon...

Jiang Xiaoman slowly closed her eyes.

*

However, after only a moment, her consciousness suddenly rushed back.

*Huh?* She wasn't dead.

When the demonic energy flowed to her heart, it was as if it had been absorbed by something, vanishing into thin air.

Guiyin clearly sensed something, too. It released its grip, stumbled back a few steps, and its expression changed drastically.

"You... you are... you are...!!"

Its pupils shrank to pinpricks. It retreated to the other side, its back slamming against the wall.

That face, previously so cruel, was now filled with shock. Trembling, it stammered, "...Your... Your... Your Highness!"