When Destiny Brings the Demon

The big black snake wasn't thinking clearly when it accidentally brought Liao Tingyan to the boss's room during his bath time, nearly causing a disaster. This made Liao Tingyan suspect that her Black Snake colleague might be trying to eliminate her, the new hire, by borrowing someone else's hand.

But after a few days of observation, she concluded that its intelligence was on par with her former roommate's beloved dog, Big Treasure. Workplace scheming—a task requiring some finesse—was simply beyond its intellectual capacity. So she unilaterally forgave its reckless behavior and still shared some bamboo juice whenever it came begging for food.

After all, everyone knows that office snacks are meant to be shared with colleagues.

Within just three days, Liao Tingyan had grown familiar with her new job. Her colleagues were easy to get along with, the boss rarely showed up, and though the work subject had a penchant for cursing and spitting fire, it was easy to handle. Overall, she had no complaints—except for the grueling commute. Climbing over twenty flights of stairs left her utterly exhausted.

Three days in, Liao Tingyan could no longer endure the stairs and came up with a solution: she rolled up her bedding and moved to the twenty-second floor, settling into the Central Tower so she wouldn’t have to trek up and down daily.

Though she was somewhat afraid of that ancestor, fear was an emotion that could be overcome and adapted to—unlike exhaustion, which was simply insurmountable.

On her first night living on the twenty-second floor, she worried the ancestor might fly into a rage and stick her to the wall as a mural. But he didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

That night was a new moon. Liao Tingyan lay on her bed, gazing at the slender crescent outside, its faint glow obscured by the clouds, casting a hazy, ambiguous light.

She had set up her living space in a corner of the floor—well-lit, ventilated, and with a great view. From initial nervousness to now lounging in relaxation, she had grown indifferent to the massive chains outside and could even admire the moon before bed. Truly, human potential was limitless, and adaptability was top-notch.

There was no wind that night. Even with the window open, the air felt stiflingly hot. For some reason, Liao Tingyan felt restless, so she remained sprawled out, lost in thought, long past her usual bedtime.

"Tonight is the new moon," the flame nearby suddenly spoke up, its childlike voice tinged with excitement. "The first new moon seen by Three Sage Mountain in five hundred years."

Since morning, the flame had been unusually silent, abandoning its usual stream of curses and threats. When Liao Tingyan watered it, she noticed its flicker was weaker than usual. Now, drawn by its voice, she saw the flame had diminished even further. If its size reflected its state, it must be in poor condition—yet it didn’t sound afraid, but rather, expectant.

What was it expecting?

A sudden chill swept over Liao Tingyan as a cold presence seeped in from the doorway. A dark figure appeared at the entrance, and as he stepped inside, the previously stifling air turned icy.

Why would the ancestor come here at this hour?

Liao Tingyan shifted from relaxed sprawl to tense sprawl, even holding her breath unconsciously. Sima Jiao walked in with a gloomy, sinister expression—yet his crimson lips were curled into a faint smile.Liao Tingyan had actually seen this ancestor appear in the middle of the night before—back when the big Black Snake went to drink bamboo sap and woke her up. She had glanced out the window by chance and spotted Sima Jiao twice. Back then, he was also dressed entirely in black, drifting like a solitary ghost across the pristine white jade plains. He would walk toward Three Sage Mountain, stopping at a certain distance to gaze into the distance. The chains binding the Central Tower would clatter as he descended the mountain, and after a while, he would turn and walk back, his billowing robes like a rolling black cloud.

The Sima Jiao before her now carried that same oppressive aura. He walked straight up to the flames and reached out, plucking one from the air.

The crimson fire spread silently across his body before swiftly merging into him.

Watching this unusual scene, Liao Tingyan slowly pulled the blanket she had kicked aside earlier over herself. The air was too cold, and now it was downright freezing.

Perhaps because of her movement, Sima Jiao suddenly turned to look at her.

Liao Tingyan: "..." Witness my art of playing dead.

A red flame mark appeared on Sima Jiao’s forehead. Having absorbed a flame, he still looked like a gloomy, murderous demon lord. Liao Tingyan peeked at him with just her eyes, not daring to move.

Sima Jiao raised his hand.

And plucked the lone flower still floating in the pool.

Liao Tingyan: "..." That fiery little flower must be crying. Wait—was that entire pool of clear water its tears?

Holding the red lotus, Sima Jiao approached Liao Tingyan and then unceremoniously sat down on her bed.

She only felt the flower brush lightly against her face, its delicate fragrance filling her nose. Instantly, her mind cleared, and her energy surged—as if she had chugged three crates of energy drinks.

"Do you know what this is?" Sima Jiao swayed the beautiful red lotus in his hand as he sat on her bed.

Liao Tingyan realized she had fallen victim to his Truth Buff again, compelled to answer honestly: "A red lotus."

Sima Jiao: "Wrong. This is the Fengshan Blood Clot Flower."

He asked again, "Do you know what it’s used for?"

Liao Tingyan continued answering obediently: "Yes. One petal equals a thousand years of cultivation."

Sima Jiao toyed idly with the flower. "Right. One petal equals a thousand years of cultivation. But if you consume even a little without mixing it with my blood, you’ll explode into a bloody mess."

Cold sweat broke out on Liao Tingyan’s back. Thank goodness for her lazy nature—she hadn’t dared to use it. If she had, she’d already be a firework of blood.

Sima Jiao studied her with a strange, puzzled look before asking, "Do you want to kill me?"

Haven’t you asked me this before? Do I really look like a murderer to you? Liao Tingyan flopped back, channeling her inner sloth: "No."

Sima Jiao suddenly laughed and tossed the large red lotus at her. "It’s yours."

It’s a treasure, but I can’t even use it! Clutching the flower, Liao Tingyan lamented internally. This dumb boss—giving her a treasure chest but no key. Was he just messing with her?

Resting his chin on his hand, Sima Jiao suddenly asked, "Are you cursing me in your head?"

Liao Tingyan: "Yes."

Ahhhhhh—this Truth Buff is going to be the death of me!Sima Jiao didn’t raise his hand to strike her. For some inexplicable reason, he sat beside her and burst into laughter.

Tonight’s boss was being far too agreeable, and Liao Tingyan grew wary. She huddled under the blanket, observing him cautiously before timidly asking, “You… what’s wrong with you?”

Sima Jiao: “Do you think I’m being unusually nice today? Guess why I’m so agreeable?”

Liao Tingyan realized the Truth Buff had worn off. After a moment of careful consideration, she ventured, “Because I’m about to die?” She couldn’t think of any other reason.

Sima Jiao gave her an eerie smile. “You guessed right. How clever.”

Liao Tingyan: “…” Oh dear.

Suddenly, Sima Jiao raised a hand and swept it through the air. Amid the howling wind, muffled groans echoed from the void—not just one person, but several.

Liao Tingyan saw several graceful figures materialize out of nowhere, landing on the other side of the hall. Their faces looked vaguely familiar—likely members of the hundred-member female troupe. These sisters were bold! While she was still trembling under the ancestor’s shadow, they had already decided to take action if dissatisfied.

Though it seemed they’d been exposed. Sima Jiao remained seated on the cushioned couch Liao Tingyan had prepared, not even bothering to move. With just a wave of his hand, the intruders stumbled back, their eyes filled with shock and fear.

“How is this possible? Weren’t we told he’d be at his weakest now?” one of the young women blurted out.

“Don’t retreat—attack!” The leader charged forward with a death-defying resolve. The three behind her exchanged glances, steeled themselves, and drew their spirit swords.

To Liao Tingyan, the scene wasn’t tense at all. The ancestor beside her seemed distracted, idly toying with the edge of her blanket. She barely blinked before the fierce women were all slammed into a hard pillar, coughing up mouthfuls of blood.

Liao Tingyan silently covered her eyes with the red lotus in her hand.

Then she heard Sima Jiao say, “I’ve been trapped here for five hundred years, my cultivation suppressed, enduring torment day after day. Tonight’s new moon marks my weakest moment. If you don’t strike now, you’ll never get another chance.”

This was the first time Liao Tingyan had seen someone voluntarily reveal their weakness and invite assassination. She concluded that this ancestor either had serious mental issues or was just that arrogant and deserving of death. As she mused, an overwhelming killing intent suddenly pressed down on her, suffocating and inescapable.

“Elder Uncle, forgive my offense.” A woman in white emerged from the void, bowing respectfully to Sima Jiao.

Liao Tingyan recognized her—another member of the hundred-member troupe. She remembered this woman as unremarkable, entering with a low seniority. But now, hearing her address the ancestor as “Elder Uncle,” Liao Tingyan realized this white-clothed sister held a high rank—on par with the sect leader. Someone of that standing should at least be at the Unity stage or higher. Yet such a powerhouse had disguised herself as a junior disciple to infiltrate?

And apparently, she was here to kill Elder Uncle Sima Jiao. The factional conflicts here were truly complicated.

“Though Elder Uncle is the lifeblood of Gengchen Immortal Mansion, you killed my master. This vengeance cannot go unanswered. After I slay you, I will plead for punishment from the sect leader.” With that, the powerhouse unleashed a sudden, lethal strike.They said spiritual power couldn't be used here, so why are you fighting so outrageously! Liao Tingyan, who was forced to endure the pressure from being too close to Sima Jiao, was innocently dragged into the battlefield and felt utterly devastated.

Sima Jiao flicked his sleeve, and an invisible wind suddenly rose from the ground, swirling and shattering the thousands of sharp swords thrust toward him before scattering the fragments in all directions.

The woman, failing in her attack, instead brightened with excitement. "As expected, your cultivation has greatly diminished!" she exclaimed joyfully.

Her strikes grew fiercer, yet Sima Jiao merely sat there, deflecting her attacks one by one, his expression perpetually half-smiling, tinged with gloom and world-weariness. Liao Tingyan remained silent throughout, not even daring to cheer.

"Pfft—"

The white-clad woman was sent flying backward, evidently severely injured and unable to rise again. At their level of cultivation, they could summon wind and rain, move mountains and fill seas—but here, in this special place, she was greatly restricted. Compared to her, Sima Jiao should have been even more constrained, yet she couldn't even get close to him. Spitting blood as she lay collapsed, the woman's face twisted with grief and resentment, filled with unwillingness.

"You... you weren't actually weakened at all, nor were you affected by the New Moon. You deliberately lured us into attacking," the white-clad woman rasped. "I thought you hadn't noticed us, but it seems you knew all along. You did this on purpose. How pitiful I am, used as a pawn."

"You're wrong. I truly am weakened—today is my most vulnerable day. If you wanted to kill me, this was indeed a rare opportunity. However..." Sima Jiao smirked. "Even in this state, you're still far too weak for me."

Liao Tingyan: Ancestor, boss... you're spitting blood while delivering such a cool line.