When Destiny Brings the Demon

Among the thousand elite disciples gathered on the field, every single one was a scion of Gengchen Immortal Mansion's prominent families. Born with superior talents and abundant resources compared to ordinary people, these life's winners who started ahead of others would each be figures unattainable to minor sects outside. With a casual wave, they could determine countless lives. Yet today, before Cizang Daojun, they too had become ants, as if their positions had been reversed.

Sima Jiao sat casually upon the jade steps, appearing like nothing more than a somewhat gloomy young man. But after countless bloody lessons in the past, no one dared to take him lightly. The more capable, cunning, and high-status one was, the less they dared to openly offend him, for they knew more secrets than ordinary disciples and thus feared Sima Jiao all the more.

The two disciples who had been fighting cautiously on the platform began calculating in their hearts upon hearing Sima Jiao's words. They knew this Cizang Daojun killed at will, unlike other powerful figures who cared about factions and their value. He disregarded such things—he was simply a powerful madman. So when he said he wanted someone dead, he truly meant it.

One of them shifted his gaze, looking at his opponent with a changed expression. His next move carried killing intent. He thought it through—even if his family elders arrived later, they likely couldn't stop this fight to the death. After all, one of his elders had been killed at Three Sage Mountain, yet Cizang Daojun still stood here unharmed.

As his attacks turned lethal, his opponent sensed it too. Though they had some superficial camaraderie, it couldn't compare to their own lives. In an instant, the two fought in earnest, unleashing deadly techniques. Their cultivation was solid, clearly honed through careful nurturing. Now locked in a life-or-death struggle, the spectacle was nothing short of spectacular. The surrounding disciples couldn't help but watch closely. Yet Sima Jiao, the instigator of this duel, sat unmoved, already selecting the next pair from the crowd.

Liao Tingyan sat beside him, the massive Black Snake coiled around them. Neither had any interest in the fighting—Liao Tingyan had never enjoyed martial arts films, let alone watching people die. The sun was a bit too bright, so she mimicked Sima Jiao, leaning back against the Black Snake's cool scales, finding it much more comfortable. She turned her head to watch the distant cranes flying over the mountain peaks, counting them to pass the time.

By the time the Palace Master and the others arrived at Lingyan Mountain Platform, the duel had just concluded—one severely wounded, the other dead.

It wasn’t just the Palace Master who came. The masters of the Eight Palaces had all arrived, along with representatives from various well-informed families, all appearing together. These usually reclusive figures had rushed over in unison, fearing Sima Jiao might suddenly go mad and wipe out this entire batch of elite disciples.

"Cizang Daojun," the crowd greeted Sima Jiao with bows. The expressions of the Palace Masters were unreadable, though a few whose families had lost outstanding disciples couldn't entirely conceal their resentment—though none dared show it too openly.

The Palace Master, ever the diplomat, stepped forward and said, "Ancestor, what brings you to watch these young disciples' matches?"

Sima Jiao leaned against his Black Snake, eyeing the gathered crowd of immaculate, ethereal figures. "Boredom," he replied. "Just watched one match. Let's continue—pick two more. Same rules: fight to the death."The sect leader had composure, but not everyone else did. With so many disciples in their families, it was inevitable that some were more favored than others. Who would be willing to let them perish so easily here? Immediately, some lineage leaders mustered their courage to intervene: "Taoist Lord Cizang, this is merely a competition. Perhaps we could modify the death duels..."

Sima Jiao: "But I want to see people die."

He swept his gaze over everyone's expressions and suddenly said, "I once heard that many years ago, disciples in the immortal mansion often engaged in death duels, honing themselves between life and death. That was why talents emerged in abundance back then. It seems our Gengchen Immortal Mansion has declined today."

His tone shifted as he continued, "Today, any disciple present who can win twenty death duels will receive a petal of the Blood Clot Flower from Fengshan."

Liao Tingyan knew that each petal of this flower was equivalent to a thousand years of cultivation. But even she wasn't aware of its full wonders. The flower's magic lay in its ability to directly increase one's cultivation regardless of innate talent—and the worse the talent, the more effective it was. For instance, if someone was at the Qi Refining Stage, they could instantly leap to the Nascent Soul Stage, bypassing the bottlenecks of Foundation Establishment and Core Formation entirely. For those with higher cultivation, the thousand years of power might help them break through a bottleneck without any side effects. And if someone was nearing the end of their lifespan, their cultivation stagnant at a critical point, consuming this flower could grant them an extra millennium of cultivation. If they happened to cross the threshold into the next realm, it would be as if they had gained an extra life.

The moment Sima Jiao made this announcement, silence fell over the crowd—from the sect leader and lineage heads down to the disciples below. Every expression was laid bare before Sima Jiao. His overly acute perception made him feel as though he were standing in an ocean of greed, nearly suffocating.

Liao Tingyan, who had been standing by like a decorative vase, was suddenly pulled over by Sima Jiao. She glanced at his furrowed brows and irritated expression. Even when he buried his face against her back and took a deep breath, she didn’t dare move.

Are you... sniffing me like a cat? Liao Tingyan thought. Well, my reputation as the peerless favored concubine is officially cemented today.

After calming slightly, Sima Jiao spoke again, his voice much darker. "Begin."

This time, no one objected. Some disciples even stepped forward willingly. Ten death duels—twenty lives. It wasn’t particularly difficult, given that among so many, there were bound to be stronger and weaker disciples. The real challenge lay in the tangled web of factions and power behind those people. Deciding whom to kill to minimize backlash was what everyone was weighing.

No one wanted to make enemies for no reason, but faced with such irresistible benefits, how many could remain unmoved? By now, this was no longer about Sima Jiao—it had become a game of choices among those chasing profit. In their eyes, no one was truly irreplaceable. If someone seemed indispensable, it was only because the stakes weren’t high enough to sway them.

By the end of the day, over a hundred disciples had died. Sima Jiao watched their slaughter indifferently, not returning to White Deer Cliff until sunset. Liao Tingyan followed behind him, observing his tall figure and jet-black hair. She asked, "Elder, will we go again tomorrow?"

"What, don’t want to go?" Sima Jiao replied coolly.

Liao Tingyan: "If we’re going tomorrow, I’ll prepare an umbrella and a cushion." She’d been roasted under the sun all day—if not for her natural beauty, her skin would’ve darkened a shade. And sitting on those stone steps all day? Did he think her butt wouldn’t hurt?Sima Jiao paused in his steps, turned to look at her, and suddenly burst into wild laughter.

Here we go again, the boss is losing it once more.

"Aren't you afraid of dead people? Not scared anymore?" Sima Jiao asked.

For once, Liao Tingyan wasn't under the Truth Buff when speaking to him, so she carefully replied, "I am scared, which is why I deliberately avoided looking at where they were fighting today." She had spent the afternoon doing neck exercises—turning left to look at mountains and birds, then right to observe the group of big shots.

"Oh, how inconvenient for you," Sima Jiao said.

Liao Tingyan couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic, but given his usual blunt personality, she assumed it was mockery. Noticing his mood seemed relatively calm, she couldn't resist asking, "Those red lotus petals today—everyone seemed to want them badly. But didn't you say they could only be activated with your blood?"

"Not my blood—the blood of the Fengshan Clan," Sima Jiao said as he walked through the mountains, his sleeves brushing against flowering trees and scattering pink petals everywhere. "Didn't I tell you? When members of the Sima Clan die, their bodies don't remain—only a Bone Pearl is left. The reason their bodies vanish is because their flesh and blood are Spirit Medicine. They get divided among the families of Gengchen Immortal Mansion. Though I'm the only one left now, there used to be others. Over the years, they've naturally accumulated some usable flesh and blood."

Liao Tingyan wasn't prepared for this revelation and felt nauseous, letting out a dry heave.

Amused by her reaction, Sima Jiao plucked a flower from nearby and lightly brushed it against her face. "Can't handle it? It's just cannibalism. In this world, isn't it always humans devouring humans?" Watching Liao Tingyan's expression and sensing her emotions, Sima Jiao grew increasingly puzzled. This spy from the Demon Realm seemed oddly more righteous than any of them—was she really from the Demon Realm?

Suspicion crept into his voice as he hesitated, "Are you really from the Demon Realm...?"

Demon yam? What the hell? Calling me a demon yam—who does he think he is, some kind of cookie? Liao Tingyan cursed him inwardly.

"Never mind," Sima Jiao started to ask but then decided it didn't matter where she was from.

Back at White Deer Cliff, Liao Tingyan lay in her room for a while. As evening approached, she tentatively requested dinner from the puppet servants. Moments later, she spotted a beautiful crane flying toward her window, carrying a meal box in its beak.

Incredible. You cultivation folks even use immortal cranes as food delivery—and they fly so fast!

The meal box looked small but was spatially expanded inside, packed with all kinds of delicacies. Liao Tingyan felt like an empress dowager, sitting motionless as the puppet servants laid out the food and drinks before her. Since she was dining outdoors, they even brought exquisite glass lanterns that, paired with the flowering trees, created an absolutely enchanting atmosphere.

Boss Sima Jiao was as elusive as ever, having disappeared to who-knows-where. Liao Tingyan thoroughly enjoyed having the feast all to herself. Everything was delicious and brimming with spiritual energy—not only satisfying her hunger and cravings but also making her feel the rapid surge of spiritual power within her. That sensation of her experience bar skyrocketing was pure bliss. Not long after she started eating, the Black Snake slithered out from somewhere and nudged her hand with its head.

Displaying admirable camaraderie, Liao Tingyan poured the big snake some delicious juice, and the two feasted together heartily.After eating her fill, Liao Tingyan took a stroll to aid digestion. The entire White Deer Cliff housed only her and Sima Jiao; the rest attending to them were puppets. Walking alone in the dark honestly made her a bit nervous, so she dragged the Black Snake along for company. The Black Snake was easily won over—after being fed by Liao Tingyan for a while, it had started wagging its tail and following her around, making her suspect she was essentially walking a dog.

"Enough exercise for today. Time to wash up and sleep. Tomorrow’s another early workday." Liao Tingyan was quite satisfied with this new workplace. Here, she lacked nothing in terms of food and clothing, and there was even an open-air pool for bathing.

A puppet led her to the bathing pool, and the moment Liao Tingyan saw it, she eagerly stripped and jumped in. The pool was large but not deep—when she stood, the water only reached her chest. Surrounding the pool were spirit trees whose branches draped into the water, forming a natural enclosure that densely shielded the entire area, creating a secluded little world. These trees were in full bloom, their crimson petals covering the water’s surface, turning the pool into a natural flower bath. A few glass lanterns hung from the trees, casting a hazy glow over the water.

Liao Tingyan felt utterly refreshed—this was what a vacation should feel like. Life was tough, so one had to learn to unwind. Right now, she had completely shaken off the frustrations of the day, immersing herself in the beautiful scenery and the soothing water.

It was quiet, and she was alone. Bathing was the perfect time to do whatever she pleased—sing off-key, splash wildly, gather a heap of petals to stick on her arms and face, or even hold her breath and dunk herself underwater.

There was a dark figure in the water.

"Pfft— cough cough !" Liao Tingyan surfaced, coughing violently. Sima Jiao rose from the pool, dripping wet. He swept back his long hair, revealing his smooth forehead, and walked toward her. Just as Liao Tingyan covered her chest, he stepped past her with an indifferent expression, climbing out of the pool. Turning his head slightly, he murmured faintly, "You’re really noisy."

And then he just left.

A man and a woman alone, a flower-filled bathing pool, an ambiguous atmosphere—and yet, nothing happened.

After a moment of contemplation, Liao Tingyan concluded with certainty: the ancestor truly had lost his mojo.

Great. That put her mind at ease.