When Destiny Brings the Demon

Liao Tingyan didn’t understand why Sima Jiao hadn’t just killed them when they descended Three Sage Mountain earlier. Instead, he had them invited to this luxurious mansion to rest, only to suddenly decide on a whim to take his “accessory” out to stir up trouble. But then again, she thought, how could someone like her—an ordinary mortal with average intelligence—possibly comprehend the thoughts of an ancestor whose mind wasn’t entirely clear? So she obediently put on a pretty dress and followed him out.

She began to feel grateful she hadn’t eaten her fill earlier. Otherwise, if she ended up seeing something that made her vomit on the spot, Sima Jiao might just casually finish her off.

But then she felt a bit guilty for thinking that way. After all, her cultivation was still pitifully at the Qi Refining Stage, meaning she hadn’t yet achieved the ability to abstain from food. During her time on Three Sage Mountain, she had relied solely on spiritual plants and other spiritually infused foods to fill her stomach. Though those were more satiating than ordinary food, it had been a long time since she’d had a proper meal.

As she rode in the Black Snake’s carriage, being taken to who-knows-where by Sima Jiao, Liao Tingyan started feeling hungry.

That’s how hunger works—when you don’t notice it, it’s fine, but once you do, it becomes unbearable. And if you happen to catch a whiff of delicious food at that moment, it’s pure torture. That was exactly Liao Tingyan’s situation now. They had just descended White Deer Cliff and were passing through a grove of blooming flowers when the mouthwatering aroma of food wafted over. The smell of meat was especially tantalizing—she hadn’t had any in so long that her mouth practically watered on reflex.

Perhaps the sound of her swallowing was too loud, because Sima Jiao glanced at her several times, catching her pretending to dab at the corners of her lips.

He tapped the snake’s head with a knuckle. “Go that way,” he said, pointing toward the source of the aroma.

Liao Tingyan ventured to ask, “Ancestor, where are we going?”

Sima Jiao replied, “To kill people.”

Liao Tingyan: “Uh… just like that? We’ll just go and kill them directly?”

Sima Jiao: “Obviously.”

What a straightforward murderer you are. Liao Tingyan sighed inwardly.

As they passed through the flower grove, they came upon an elegant gathering of privileged young cultivators by a stone pool beneath a waterfall. Platters of exquisite delicacies were laid out, and dozens of graceful, strikingly beautiful youths lounged about, indulging in revelry. Clearly, these were high-ranking disciples—the place was rich in spiritual power, the scenery was breathtaking, the food was refined, and everyone carried themselves with effortless elegance. Some female disciples even played the zither to enhance the ambiance.

The sudden appearance of the enormous Black Snake, Sima Jiao, and Liao Tingyan was completely out of place.

Liao Tingyan had never barged into someone else’s banquet like this before, but the ancestor was all too familiar with acts of arson, slaughter, and plunder—he had no qualms whatsoever.

The moment they arrived, a disciple sitting at the lowest seat frowned and snapped, “Which palace do you belong to? How dare you intrude on Senior Brother Tian’s flower banquet like this? Get out now!”

Liao Tingyan sucked in a sharp breath, almost wanting to cover her eyes. The ancestor was already here to kill people, and now this fool dares to speak to him with such disdain and impatience? This isn’t just courting death—it’s practically begging for it. She thought within three seconds, she would see that speaking disciple explode into a bloody flower. Yet, nothing happened. The Sima Jiao beside her stepped off the serpent carriage, surveying the surroundings as if he hadn’t heard the disciple’s words at all. Liao Tingyan watched as he stepped onto the colorful silks strewn across the ground, casually picking up a wine jug from a nearby banquet table to examine. He even sniffed it, likely disliking the scent, and tossed it aside without a second thought. The spilled wine seeped into the luxurious silk, leaving a dark stain.

His movements were too natural, his demeanor utterly arrogant, as if these people were beneath his notice. The disciple who had spoken first stood up angrily, shouting, “You—!”

He barely got one word out before Sima Jiao appeared right in front of him, gripping his throat and dragging him toward the pool. Then, in full view of everyone, he shoved the disciple’s head underwater.

This time, several people stood up at once, their faces twisted in fury. The handsome one at the head of the table rose the fastest—Liao Tingyan even saw him stumble slightly. But unlike the others, his expression wasn’t anger but sheer terror. This one had probably seen the grandmaster before. His earlier hesitation might have been because he didn’t dare believe it—after all, what was Sima Jiao’s status? Even the sect leader behaved like that in front of him, let alone others. Some disciples might dare complain about him in private, but face-to-face? They’d be too scared to breathe.

Very few had actually seen Sima Jiao’s face, and those who could recognize him usually held some status. Here, only one person knew him. That man hurried forward, but as he got within three meters, his steps grew heavy, too afraid to approach further. Instead, he dropped to his knees in a deep bow, head lowered as he called out, “Taoist Lord Cizang.”

The entire banquet exploded into stunned silence. About three seconds later, everyone was on their knees, panic written all over their faces. The disciple being held underwater by Sima Jiao struggled frantically—now especially terrified, as if struck by lightning, freezing in place. Of course, an immortal cultivator couldn’t drown from something as mundane as being submerged, but fear had paralyzed him.

Seeing the lack of struggle, Sima Jiao said, “Keep struggling.”

The disciple stiffly complied, moving like a clumsy turtle.

Liao Tingyan couldn’t help it—she snorted a laugh. The scene was so quiet even the wind had stilled, making her laughter especially conspicuous. Sima Jiao turned to look at her. Before she could school her expression, she saw him smirk faintly. He released the disciple’s neck, letting him play dead in the water, and ignored everyone else as he strode to the head table, seating himself atop it. Then he beckoned to Liao Tingyan.

“Come here.”

She approached, only to hear the ancestor who had declared he was here to kill people say to her, “Eat whatever you want.”

Wait—weren’t you just here to murder someone?

Liao Tingyan was momentarily stunned. Could it be… this ancestor had heard her earlier gulp and realized she was hungry, so he specifically brought her here to eat? No… no way. His character in her mind wasn’t this thoughtful or attentive!Sima Jiao didn’t care what she thought. After saying those words, he picked up a string of bright red spirit fruits from the table, plucked one, and crushed it in his hand. The red juice splattered, staining his fingers crimson. He just sat there, expressionlessly crushing the fruits one by one, ignoring everyone else. Liao Tingyan inexplicably felt that the way he crushed the fruits was eerily similar to how he might crush someone’s skull.

The others knelt, sweating profusely, while Liao Tingyan sat to the side and began gnawing on some meat. She didn’t know what kind of animal it was, but it was exceptionally tender. The moment the juices burst in her mouth, the delicious flavor instantly soothed her nerves in this tense atmosphere.

She had never tasted meat this good before and even began to regret there was no rice to go with it. She had already started eating when the big Black Snake slithered over and nudged her hand with its head.

Liao Tingyan still remembered the days when the three of them had struggled together, starving and thirsty. She grabbed a large plate and held the various jugs up to the Black Snake, letting it sniff each one to choose for itself. After all, the drinks here were clearly far better than the bamboo sap she usually drank. Since the boss had brought his two employees for a rare feast, they might as well enjoy the good stuff.

The Black Snake chose one, and Liao Tingyan poured it a huge bowl, letting it drink on its own.

As she did this, Sima Jiao glanced at her. Liao Tingyan could never decipher what this ancestor’s gaze meant—she didn’t have mind-reading abilities, after all—so she simply pretended not to notice and kept eating. She treated this like an all-you-can-eat buffet, thoroughly enjoying herself. The Black Snake was clearly happy too, wagging its tail enthusiastically—perhaps a bit too much, as it ended up annoying the ancestor. Sima Jiao threw a fruit at its tail, and the Black Snake immediately froze stiff.

Liao Tingyan thought to herself, Good thing I don’t chew loudly, or I’d probably get pelted too for disturbing him.

She ate some meat, some vegetables, drank some juice, and finished with some dessert fruits.

Sima Jiao crushed the last fruit, washed his hands with a jug of cloud tea beside him, and stood up.

The Black Snake carried him and Liao Tingyan once more, happily leaving the place and heading toward Sima Jiao’s original destination.

After they left, the scene remained silent for a long time. The highest-ranking senior disciple, Tian, suddenly jumped up, his expression complicated. The others also rose to their feet, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Was that really… Taoist Lord Cizang? Our grandmaster?” someone whispered weakly.

“He didn’t kill anyone just now. I thought it was said that…”

“Enough, don’t speak of this. Is Junior Brother Wu alright?”

Junior Brother Wu, who had been dunked headfirst into the pond, crawled out, drenched and trembling. He looked at Senior Brother Tian. “Senior Brother Tian… the grandmaster…”

Without a word, Senior Brother Tian hurried away. He needed to see his grandfather immediately and report this matter—he had no time to spare for the junior disciples who had attended the banquet.

Meanwhile, the sect leader had already received word that Sima Jiao had left White Deer Cliff and immediately grew wary. Sima Jiao’s actions were utterly unpredictable—no one could guess what he might do. The sect leader wanted to send people to follow him and monitor his movements, but Sima Jiao would never tolerate such surveillance. All he could do was order extra vigilance, though the updates would inevitably lag.

On his way to Lingyan Mountain Platform, the sect leader listened as Tian Wuyin recounted how Sima Jiao had suddenly crashed his flower banquet earlier."I saw clearly at the time that Taoist Lord Cizang indeed doted greatly on that female disciple. He paid no attention to us disciples at all, simply waiting for her to finish eating before leaving," Tian Wuyin said. "I heard from my grandfather that Taoist Lord Cizang had been trapped for many years and harbored much resentment toward our Eight Palaces. Previously, all the senior elders who set foot on Three Sage Mountain lost their lives. But this time, he didn't seem as bloodthirsty—no one present was harmed, not even those who initially spoke disrespectfully to him."

The sect leader smiled faintly, his tone meaningful. "This last descendant of Sima Shi—even I haven't been able to fathom his depths. As for his thoughts, no one knows them."

Sima Jiao went to Lingyan Mountain Platform, the largest martial arena in the central mountain range of Gengchen Immortal Mansion. Most of the time, elite disciples from the Eight Palaces and the sect leader's lineage would spar here. The space was so vast that even with thousands present, it still felt open. The moment he appeared, the lively Lingyan Mountain Platform fell into complete silence.

Liao Tingyan noticed that wherever the Ancestor went, deathly silence followed. His notorious reputation had long spread—just look at how these disciples were terrified, their faces pale as sheets. Liao Tingyan understood immediately: the Ancestor was probably planning something big, aiming to wipe out the next generation's promising talents. How ruthless. She wondered if he planned to do it one by one or in groups. She regretted eating so much earlier.

Sima Jiao casually sat on the high steps and pointed at two disciples. "You two—which lineage do you belong to?"

The two disciples stepped forward. They must have had some capability, as they managed to maintain their composure after recovering, answering neither humbly nor arrogantly with their lineage and names.

Sima Jiao said, "Go up to the platform and fight to the death."

The two disciples exchanged glances, their expressions grim. They belonged to different palaces, but the relationship between their palaces wasn't hostile. Having them fight to the death would be hard to justify if anything happened to either. But since Sima Jiao, their grandmaster, had spoken, they couldn't defy him—mainly because they couldn't defeat him either.

Reluctantly, they stepped onto the platform. They planned to stall for time, hoping that once a senior in charge arrived, there might still be a way out. They fought for a while without going all out. Sima Jiao had anticipated this and wasn't angry. He simply added, "You have one incense stick's time to determine a winner. If it's a draw, both of you will die."

Liao Tingyan felt like he wasn't here to kill but to watch a show.