Cui Shi had not anticipated that Lang Jiuchuan would turn around and question her. She stood frozen on the spot, her face a mask of utter disbelief.

Out of everyone present, which younger generation member had the nerve to challenge an elder openly, in front of outsiders?

Lang Zhengping’s face had gone as black as the bottom of a wok. He urged his son and daughter-in-law on with one hand: “Get her out of here already.” Then he quickly moved to Elder Zhao’s side with an apologetic smile: “Please don’t think too poorly of us, Elder. The child has been sickly since birth and was raised out on the estate. She only just returned — she hasn’t quite learned her manners yet.”

Elder Zhao said nothing. But his grandson, Zhao Yuancheng, wore an icy expression as he cast a sidelong glance at Lang Jiuchuan. “Lord Lang, this is no longer a matter of manners — she spoke with deliberate spite and cursed my grandfather.”

“Brother Zhao, please calm your anger. This is the Lang Family’s fault entirely. Once our grandfather’s funeral rites are concluded, we will personally escort this girl to your home to offer our apologies.” The sons and nephews of the Lang Family stepped forward one by one, clasping their hands in apology.

Lang Cailing, leading the girls of her generation, also turned on Lang Jiuchuan in rebuke: “Even if you know nothing of etiquette, you ought to understand what may and may not be said — will you not kneel and beg forgiveness?”

“Exactly. She’s just spouting rubbish.”

“This isn’t the countryside — you can’t run your mouth off like some ignorant village woman.”

“What a jinx — back barely a moment and already causing chaos.”

Accusations and scolding rained down on Lang Jiuchuan like bolt after bolt of water-soaked silk.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes were beginning to redden. She was just drawing breath to respond when Elder Zhao raised his hand and gave a heavy, deliberate cough. “Enough. Children don’t know any better — there’s no need to make so much of it.”

The hall fell silent.

Elder Zhao looked at Lang Jiuchuan. “As you said — I am two years your grandfather’s senior. It is not inaccurate to say I, too, have half a foot in the coffin already…”

“Grandfather!” Zhao Yuancheng frowned. His grandfather was being far too lenient.

Elder Zhao patted his hand. “She is just a young girl. Why be so harsh with her?”

Zhao Yuancheng opened his mouth, then closed it again. He thought inwardly that her mouth was so venomous it was hard not to be harsh — just look at her — she had gone and stirred up everyone’s fury at once.

Lang Jiuchuan smiled. “Are you truly trying to get me out of trouble, Elder? The truth is, you are angry too — quite obviously. You are only pretending magnanimity because you believe a girl this young who speaks so carelessly will inevitably bring ruin upon herself with her own words one day, and suffer the consequences. There is no need for anyone else to lecture her — just wait and see.”

Elder Zhao was dumbstruck.

That was precisely what had been in his heart. A girl who spoke with such reckless disregard — if she kept it up, the day would come when she paid a heavy price for every word she had let loose.

Watching Lang Jiuchuan grow ever more brazen, Cui Shi’s voice cut through sharply: “That is enough.”

Lang Jiuchuan ignored her. She stepped forward until she stood directly before Elder Zhao. “I know how to respect my elders. But when I said what I said, it was not without reason. Every person carries three flames. Both of yours on your shoulders have already gone out. The one atop your head will be fully extinguished within three days. Elder, that topmost flame — the flame of the spirit — is the most vital of all. As the saying goes, a noble person’s heart is open and clear; only by preserving a righteous, positive spirit can that flame burn bright. But clearly, you have taken a wrong step in recent days. And you know it yourself — otherwise you would not be so restless and troubled by it.”

This old man’s three flames were nearly all spent — wasn’t that as good as saying he was close to death?

A flicker passed over Elder Zhao’s face. He looked into her eyes and felt as though they contained a whirlpool ready to draw him in and pull him apart.

“You…”

“You saved someone who should not have been saved. If you insist on lingering, it will be your children and grandchildren who go in your place.” Lang Jiuchuan let her gaze drift sideways, and a faint, merciless smile curved her lips. “That is what they call — a life for a life.”

Elder Zhao followed her gaze. His eyes landed on his own grandson. His pupils contracted sharply, and the knuckles of the hand gripping his walking staff went white.

Crack.

A sharp, ringing slap broke through the hush and brought everyone back to their senses.

“Insolent wretch!!”