There was nothing wrong with viewing the genealogy.

Lang Jiuchuan accepted the thick tome of the Lang Family’s genealogical records and skipped past the earlier sections, going straight to Lang Zhengfan’s generation. On his page were written his birth year and the eight characters of his birth date, his year of death, his principal wife Cui Shi Huijun, and his legitimate daughter Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan committed all their birth dates and eight characters to memory. As for Lang Zhengfan’s, she made a brief calculation — and found his fate chart carried some obstruction.

One must not calculate the fates of those closest to oneself — it was inadvisable, and easy to invite a backlash.

Lang Jiuchuan hesitated for only a moment, then invoked her Daoist arts. Lang Zhengfan’s fate chart unfolded before her eyes like a game board. The General Star entered the life palace, governing conquest and battle. The year’s fortune brought wealth and official rank — a prosperous destiny of great power and abundant fortune.

Though the General Star was also a fierce star, so long as one’s abilities and personal constitution were strong enough, even danger could be turned to advantage.

But.

This General Star of his had been covered in dust. When it should have shone brightest, it could not. A treacherous subordinate had whispered slander and blocked his path, causing the General Star to drift — unable to claim its fruits, with no way to break free.

“How did he die?” Lang Jiuchuan’s chest ached with a dull, suffocating pain. She stopped her calculation, her face drained of color, her voice hoarse as she asked Old Chang.

Old Chang replied, “Fourteen years ago, in the battle when the Northern Di invaded the border. The Northern Di sent a force of five thousand men who slaughtered an entire village on the other side of the Black River, killing everyone, young and old alike. The second master drove them back in a rout — but then, against the advice of the strategists at his side, he led three thousand soldiers in a deep pursuit. He rode straight into an ambush and was struck by a poisoned arrow. Of those three thousand soldiers, only thirty made it out alive, bringing the second master with them.”

Lang Jiuchuan frowned. “Was he always this reckless? Didn’t he know the principle — do not chase a desperate enemy into a corner?”

Old Chang was silent for a moment, then said, “That village had eight hundred people. Not a single one survived — men, women, old, or young. They say a heavily pregnant woman was found disemboweled, still barely clinging to life, her unborn child exposed outside her body. At the time, the second mistress was carrying you.”

Lang Jiuchuan understood then. He had thought of Cui Shi — no wonder he hadn’t listened to reason.

“Every general has his personal guard troops. The men who rode with him that day — did they all die?”

Old Chang, finding the detail of her questions unusual, replied with some confusion, “Of the thirty who escaped, two were the second master’s personal guards, one of whom was his deputy general. He holds a memorial ceremony for the second master every year and sends seasonal gifts to the second mistress during festivals and the New Year.”

“Who?”

“Marquis Zhenbei, Xie Zhenming.”

Lang Jiuchuan tapped the genealogy lightly and committed the name to memory.

“Is there something wrong?” Old Chang felt something was off — she had asked with such meticulous detail. An ordinary young lady, having never met her father, might be curious, but surely she wouldn’t press for details about the battle in which he died?

But the ninth young miss was not ordinary at all.

Lang Jiuchuan said, “I simply find it strange. He was known as the Young General — one who should have had both courage and wisdom. He ought to have understood better than anyone the principle of not chasing a broken enemy. How could he have suddenly pressed forward so recklessly?”

Old Chang was a man who had also come up from the military ranks. Something flickered through his mind as she spoke, but it refused to take shape. He said only, “Perhaps it was the sight of that village. You have never witnessed the aftermath of a mass slaughter. If eight hundred people were killed, it would not be an exaggeration to call it a living hell — and then there was the sight of a pregnant woman dying so violently.”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a faint sound of acknowledgment, then handed the genealogy back to him. “You may go and rest. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

Old Chang looked at her slight, slender frame and said, “This old servant will go fetch you a brazier.”

He bowed and withdrew.

Jiangche floated out eagerly and said, “Well now — are you really willing to spend merit you’ve barely had time to warm in your hands, just to read this convenient father’s birth chart? Something’s not right, is it?”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “His death may not have been as simple as it seems. I suspect someone arranged it.”

“That can’t be right, can it? A grand Marquis Residence like this — surely they wouldn’t fail to notice if one of their own sons died under suspicious circumstances? This is a family of distinguished merit, after all.”

Lang Jiuchuan scoffed. “On the battlefield, blades don’t ask questions — who can say where a hidden ghost lurks? Especially when he was blinded by emotion in that moment, stripped of his judgment and composure. That made him all the easier to lead into a trap.”

Jiangche was quiet for a moment, then — recklessly — said one thing: “A man about to become a father, watching a disemboweled pregnant woman die right in front of him — one life becoming two deaths — it’s only you, heartless as you are, who could stay calm in such a moment— ow ow ow, you wretch, stop hitting my face!”

Lang Jiuchuan had landed several punches on its tiger’s face and yanked its whiskers twice. “That’s what you get for running that mouth.”

Jiangche roared in outrage, making as if to brawl with her — but then watched, helplessly, as that shameless woman sank down onto the floor cushion.

“Stop making a fuss. I’m going to meditate. You need to cultivate alongside me.”

Jiangche’s punch landed in cotton. Infuriating!

Old Chang returned with a lit brazier. Behind him followed a nanny sent by Wan Fang, carrying a food box and a large cloak for warmth, along with instructions for Lang Jiuchuan to sit for just a little while, then go back, admit some fault to the second mistress, and let the matter pass — no sense in catching a chill.

Jian Lan had also been sent over by Cheng Nanny, bringing a crock of warm braised soup.

Lang Jiuchuan accepted all these kindnesses, then sat perfectly straight on the floor cushion and began circulating her Qi through the Great Heavenly Circuit.

She had obtained Madam Shen’s ten years of lifespan, Shen Qinghe’s unyielding bone spirit, and the merit earned from conducting a soul-crossing rite — all of it needed to be properly drawn into this body and used to fortify herself.

The next day.

The Shen household dispatched Madam Shen’s most trusted confidant, Lu Nanny, to deliver gifts. The woman first reported to the eldest young mistress Wan Fang’s quarters. Wan Fang had her brought in — and the moment she saw the long gift inventory, she drew a sharp breath and immediately sent someone to fetch Cui Shi.

After Cui Shi arrived, Lu Nanny smiled and curtsied, offered a few courteous greetings, and praised Lang Jiuchuan warmly, saying: “Our mistress truly holds genuine affection for the ninth young miss. Seeing how delicate her constitution is — and with the twelfth month nearly upon us, the New Year nearly here — she sends along these small gifts of no great worth, in hopes that the ninth young miss will take good care of herself, so they might go together to pay respects at the temple in the days ahead.”

Wan Fang and her daughter-in-law Wu Shi exchanged a glance. The Shen family’s son was not yet betrothed — could it be they had their eye on the ninth girl as a future daughter-in-law?

What they thought, Cui Shi thought as well. She stared blankly for a moment before accepting the gift list to look over — and even with her background from a distinguished clan, she was startled by what she read.

Silks and satins aside — since Lang Jiuchuan was still in mourning, nothing in bold reds or greens had been sent — there was a pure white fox-fur cloak without a single stray color, exceptionally rare and precious. A matched set of sapphire jewelry. The finest vermilion inkstone and brushes. And a great deal of nourishing medicinal ingredients: century-old ginseng, decades-old lingzhi mushroom, cordyceps, deer velvet antler, and more. There were also vials of the Imperial Medical Institute’s Foundation-Strengthening and Constitution-Cultivating Vitality Pills — and even two live deer had been sent along.

The value of this gift list — easily over a thousand taels.

Cui Shi frowned. “This list is far too precious. A young girl like her hardly deserves such—”

“Madam is too modest. If the ninth young miss does not deserve it, then no one does.” Lu Nanny smiled serenely at Cui Shi. “Madam is truly fortunate — to have raised such a daughter, you have the blessing of three lifetimes.”

Everyone was briefly stunned.

That didn’t sound like polite flattery — that sounded like genuine praise!

Just what had Lang Jiuchuan done?

Lu Nanny added, “Oh — and the mistress asked this old servant to personally convey her warmest regards to the ninth young miss. May I ask where the young miss is at the moment?”

Where is she? She’s kneeling in the ancestral hall as punishment.

Wan Fang glanced at her sister-in-law by marriage, then at the servants around the room. The question was, had the ninth young miss even admitted any fault?