The conversation had been going so smoothly — then Lang Jiuchuan suddenly collapsed. It gave Jiangche a genuine fright.

“What’s wrong with you now?”

Lang Jiuchuan lifted her head. Her eyes had gone crimson, shot through with a fleeting flash of deep golden light — enough to make Jiangche stumble back two steps, its expression wary and guarded as it stared at her.

The piercing pain had come swiftly, and vanished just as quickly. Lang Jiuchuan stood back up, her brow furrowed deeply, unable to understand what had just shaken through her.

“Are — are you alright?” Jiangche asked with uncharacteristic caution. “Is it that this body isn’t holding up anymore?”

Lang Jiuchuan pressed her fingers to her wrist. There was no pulse to be felt at all. “It’s fine. After all, this body is only kept looking normal through the use of a technique. It still needs to be fully repaired.”

If not — the moment that technique unraveled, it would scatter just like that.

“Which is exactly why I keep saying we need to earn merit.” Jiangche clapped its paws together. “If you save that person called Shen Peng, that counts as a meritorious deed.”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “Are you certain? Some people carry ten thousand layers of sin upon them. Save them, and you’re only inviting trouble for yourself.”

“You can rest easy on that count — I already looked into it. The Shen family carries an exceptionally powerful and upright aura of integrity. That Shen Qinghe has earned the name ‘Clear-Skied Shen,’ renowned for breaking difficult cases. He is a fiercely just official who has relieved the suffering of countless common people.”

Lang Jiuchuan let out a faint smile. “Merit alone is not enough to repair this body. I am afraid what they can offer would not cover the price.”

Jiangche was momentarily at a loss. What more was needed?

Lang Jiuchuan did not elaborate further. She asked instead, “Just now, you mentioned the four great clans — if the imperial family already carries a Dao-root lineage, why did they become emperors rather than simply remaining a Mystic Family?”

Jiangche answered without a second’s thought. “What is there to puzzle over? In this world of mortals, the capable rise to the top. Why was it the Tantai clan that became the imperial family rather than one of the other three? Naturally because the Tantai clan overpowered all three of them. And what is wrong with becoming the imperial family? Not only is your bloodline supremely noble, you receive the offerings of all under heaven — and it’s not just gold and silver riches, but wish-power and faith energy as well, and plenty of it. If it were you, would you not want that?”

Of course she would. Wish-power — the faith of the masses — was the most potent force of all.

Lang Jiuchuan stroked her chin, deep in thought, and asked, “Apart from these four great clans with their inherited Dao-roots, do the Buddhist and Daoist sects have no outstanding cultivators of their own? If none of them can match the four great clans, then whenever they encounter a truly formidable malevolent entity or something from a dark path, they would always have to go begging to one of those few families. The imperial clan surely wouldn’t stoop to helping common people with their troubles, would they?”

“That’s exactly why the saying goes — better to offend a great clan than to provoke the Mystic Families. They are worshipped on a high altar, looked up to by all.” Jiangche gave a light sniff. “To request one of those families to act is not as simple as asking and receiving. You have to hope they are in the right mood. So unless it is truly a last resort, no one approaches them — because the price to be paid is beyond imagining.”

“As for the Buddhist and Daoist sects, they do have capable and exceptional individuals. But those who have truly attained enlightenment across the entire Great Bian nation — you could count them on ten fingers. The rest can handle minor matters like a small exorcism or a simple ritual — but when it comes to genuinely breaching the gates of heaven or descending into the ghost realm, they would not even dare to dream of it. So when a truly fearsome malevolent entity is encountered, most of them are willing but powerless. And as for those wandering cultivators who have never made a name for themselves — whether they are merely too cautious to spread their reputation, or simply do not exist, there is no way to know.”

Something clicked in Lang Jiuchuan’s mind. “You’re saying the Mystic Families actively suppress them?”

“Either recruit them as protective elders, or suppress them. Do you think they would simply let someone flourish freely?” Jiangche said with a half-smile. “There are only so many seats on a high altar. Their own people can barely fill them. Giving one away to an outsider — would you be willing?”

A dark edge of hostility suddenly seeped out from Lang Jiuchuan.

Boom.

The decorative potted plant beside them exploded apart.

Jiangche: “—!”

Easy, easy there.

Lang Jiuchuan picked up the shattered pine bonsai — which had been trimmed into a beautifully refined shape — her voice dropping to something cold and sharp. “So what you’re saying is, anyone in this world with real ability would have no choice but to bow to the will of those four great clans?”

Jiangche glanced at her sideways. “In our beast clan, we believe in the law of the jungle — the strong devour the weak. This is a very typical food chain—”

Those eyes are so cold!

Jiangche very wisely shut its mouth.

Lang Jiuchuan lowered her head, holding the pine bonsai and swinging it idly back and forth. “The strong devour the weak, is that it?”

“What are you planning — you’d better not do anything reckless. Even I know that this world runs on rules. You can’t just shatter them because you feel like it. And besides, your body is fragile enough right now that a gust of wind could blow you away.” Jiangche sensed she was on the verge of some sudden awakening that would send her charging headfirst into a confrontation, and hurried to dissuade her. “Even if there are things you can’t stand the sight of, you have to wait until you’re strong enough. The way things are now, if you can’t win and end up dying again — was it worth it?”

Damn, this woman is a lunatic. If she’s going to get herself killed, I need to figure out how to dissolve this contract before she drags me down with her.

Lang Jiuchuan tossed the pine bonsai to the side. “Relax. I have my own code that I live by.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“Focus on repairing my body and let my own light shine. I would never be so bored as to go snuff out someone else’s flame.” Lang Jiuchuan broke into a smile that was more than a little unsettling. “But if someone tries to snuff out mine — I won’t just blow their flame out. I’ll yank the very wick out by the roots.”

She was not one who would ever bow to another’s authority.

Jiangche: “……”

Understood. Your code is: I don’t provoke others, and others don’t provoke me. But if someone provokes me, I’ll wipe out their entire line. Is that it?

This woman is out of her mind.

“Heaven help us — who did this? Who knocked over the young lord’s Pine Scenery?!” A servant’s sharp voice rang out.

Jiangche snapped back to attention and saw the servant rushing over in a panic. It looked around — the culprit had long since made her escape.

Lucky it had no physical form. Otherwise, would it not have been left behind as that infuriating woman’s scapegoat?

Jiangche hurried to catch up with Lang Jiuchuan. “So — are you going or not, to see the Shen family?”

“Go knocking on their door and offer my services unsolicited?” Lang Jiuchuan said irritably. “Don’t forget — right now I am nothing more than a young lady who is supposed to be kept properly sheltered indoors. Even getting out of the house is no easy matter. And I look like I could be blown over by a strong breeze. Why would anyone believe I have the ability to solve this?”

“I heard that Shen Qinghe will be serving as one of the pallbearers at old Master Zhao’s funeral. Right — Shen Qinghe is one of old Master Zhao’s students.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s brow arched slightly.

What a fortuitous connection.

She pinched her fingers and calculated: old Master Zhao had passed two days after Marquis Kaiping. The date of the funeral procession would be tomorrow.

As a junior acquaintance, it was only right that she offer a stick of incense to old Master Zhao and see him off on his final journey. After all, she had cursed the man with her crow’s mouth — she truly did owe him an apology.

Lang Jiuchuan then said to Jiangche, “Let me work out how to prepare the Yang Restoration Medicinal Talisman. You go and find out what exactly happened to Shen Peng — something must have triggered this. He couldn’t have been afflicted for no reason at all.”

“Me again?” Jiangche leapt up in protest. “I just finished a whole errand — why is it me again?”

“This is to save time. Should I wait until I meet Shen Qinghe and ask him directly? The better informed I am beforehand, the faster I can devise a plan. What — have you changed your mind about wanting merit? Or perhaps you know how to prepare the Yang Restoration Medicinal Talisman? Come then, if you’re so capable, go ahead.” Lang Jiuchuan cast it a sidelong look. “There is no free meal in this world. You and I made a covenant binding us to heaven and earth — neither of us is doing the other’s work for nothing. If we want to complement each other, we naturally have to divide the tasks.”

Hard to argue with, yet deeply infuriating — and there was no way to talk back against it.

Jiangche huffed off indignantly. Lang Jiuchuan, meanwhile, made her way to Lang Zhengping’s study and stated her purpose directly.

Lang Zhengping spat out a mouthful of tea. “What — you want to go offer incense at old Master Zhao’s funeral and join the procession?”

Heavens above, child — you’re actually not afraid of the Zhao family striking you down? You dare to show your face there after what you did?