Soul Summoning?

Lang Zhengping was somewhat stunned. He watched as Lang Jiuchuan had already left, and just as he moved his foot to follow, he glanced over at the Imperial Physician Liang’s side. Both physicians were furrowing their brows deeply, their expressions grave — and he dared not move.

Da Lang and the third son had escorted the coffin back to the ancestral home. As the eldest legitimate son, he could not leave his mother’s side while she remained unconscious. If something happened and he wasn’t there in time, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

If that girl, Ninth Young Miss, could say with such certainty that Mother had suffered a soul separation, then this so-called soul summoning she spoke of — she ought to be capable of it too, right?

Sure enough, a quarter of an hour later, Imperial Physician Liang and his colleague finished with the needles and came before him, hesitating somewhat before speaking: “Young Master, this official has administered acupuncture to the Old Madam, opening her meridians and blood vessels. However, given the Old Madam’s advanced age, this official cannot guarantee when she will wake.”

The expressions of Furen and the others all shifted, their eyes reddening. This was their way of telling the family to prepare themselves.

Lang Zhengping drew a deep breath and said: “We do what we can and leave the rest to fate. I know that Imperial Physician Liang and your colleague have done your utmost. My mother will come through this safely.”

Imperial Physician Liang let out a quiet breath of relief and said: “This official will write out a prescription. Should the Old Madam awaken, she may take the medicine. The formula will soothe the liver, replenish Qi, strengthen the spleen, and dissolve stagnation. When the time comes, simply send someone to summon this official for a follow-up consultation.”

“Thank you for your trouble.” Lang Zhengping had the fourth son see Imperial Physician Liang out of the manor, then came to stand beside the bed, gazing steadily at his mother’s peaceful countenance.

Furen stepped forward and said: “My Lord, what are we to do? Should we not invite another physician?”

“There’s no need. Mother will wake.” Lang Zhengping said: “Watch over her. I’ll be back shortly.”

Without waiting for Furen or the others to respond, he turned and left, going after Lang Jiuchuan.

As for Lang Jiuchuan — she had not found the Old Madam’s soul within the room. So where had it gone? When a soul separates, it typically lingers in places familiar to the deceased. So where on earth had this old woman wandered off to?

She hurried out, and Lang Cailing — who was furious at having been scolded — followed with her younger brother in tow, wanting to demand justice for her birth mother.

The two of them blocked Lang Jiuchuan in the small rear courtyard of Shoukang Hall.

“Lang Jiu, stop right there — what gave you the right to curse my Yiniang?” Lang Cailing stood with her hands on her hips: “No matter what my Yiniang may have done wrong, she is still your elder. Do you understand propriety? Have you no manners?”

Lang Jiuchuan’s face went cold: “Good dogs don’t block the road. Get out of the way.”

“You dare call me a dog? I am your cousin-elder-sister!” Lang Cailing said furiously.

“If I acknowledge you, then you are my cousin-elder-sister. If I don’t, you are nothing. Move aside — I have no time to waste words with you.” Lang Jiuchuan glanced around the courtyard. Tsk, where had this old woman run off to?

“Seventh Sister, why bother arguing with her? Once I become the adoptive heir of the Second Branch, I’ll marry her off to somewhere far away and never let her return home.” Lang Caimeng glared at Lang Jiuchuan with a face full of arrogance and said: “From now on, if your husband’s family bullies you, don’t expect me to stand up for you — unless you kneel down right now and admit your faults to us.”

Lang Jiuchuan paused, then turned her head toward him: “What did you just say? My ears weren’t working just now and I couldn’t quite catch it. Say it again.”

“I said once I become the adoptive heir of the Second Branch, I’ll marry you off far away and not stand up for you.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes narrowed, her gaze turning ice-cold and terrifying, like a malevolent ghost glaring at him: “So you’re trying to trample over me?”

Lang Caimeng was so frightened by her stare that he stumbled back two steps, stuttering: “Unless you admit your fault…”

“You insolent wretch!”

Lang Zhengping’s furious voice rang out from behind him, accompanied by a savage kick that sent the boy sprawling face-first into the dirt.

Lang Caimeng’s mouth filled with mud. He let out a wail and burst into tears. When he twisted around to look, his father was standing behind him — seemingly having arrived without a sound — his face blazing with rage. The wailing immediately cut off, replaced by terrified hiccups.

“Speak! Who taught you to say such vile things? Who gave you the audacity?” Lang Zhengping thundered.

How old was this wretched boy, and he already dared to speak such poisonous words — who taught him this, and who had assured him so confidently that he would become the Second Branch’s adoptive heir?

Utterly lawless.

Lang Cailing was frightened senseless and knelt down beside Lang Caimeng, trembling violently: “Father, Father, Eleventh Brother was only making a joke with Ninth Sister, he didn’t mean it seriously. Eleventh Brother, won’t you quickly kowtow and beg your Ninth Sister’s forgiveness.”

Lang Caimeng was pressed down and his head struck the ground with a heavy thud before Lang Jiuchuan, and the pain sent tears and snot streaming down his face, mixed with mud — a truly wretched sight.

Lang Jiuchuan then poured oil on the fire: “Uncle, regarding the matter of Eleventh Young Master becoming the adoptive heir of the Second Branch — may I ask whether our Cui Shi is aware of this? Should we perhaps invite her to come and discuss which remote corner of the world you plan to marry me off to?”

Lang Zhengping’s head ached terribly. So now, at this moment, she was willing to address him as Uncle — and that poisonous tongue of hers was like venom kept hidden behind the teeth, ready to strike at any moment. Of all times, she couldn’t resist landing a few poisonous blows first.

“Don’t listen to his nonsense. Adoptive heir? There is no such thing — nothing has been decided.” Lang Zhengping shot a fierce glare at the siblings on the ground.

Lang Cailing’s vision went dark. It was over. This was truly a case of going for the chicken and losing the bait. With Father having spoken these words, even if there had been any such intention before, it would have to be abandoned now. Otherwise, even if the adoption went through, the people of the Second and Third Branches would say the First Branch was deliberately scheming to seize the Second Branch’s inheritance.

Father cared most about face above all things. He would absolutely never allow such damning gossip to fall into others’ mouths.

Lang Zhengping glared at the two siblings with profound disappointment, then summoned servants from a distance to escort them to the ancestral shrine to kneel in repentance and reflection. Without his order, they were not permitted to leave.

Lang Cailing felt her legs go weak. It was truly over.

Lang Jiuchuan watched as the two were led away, gave a cold snort, and said: “Those two will need to be properly disciplined, Uncle. Otherwise, they will become a source of trouble for the household.”

Lang Zhengping stiffened slightly and said: “I understand. Now tell me — where has your grandmother’s soul wandered off to? Do we need to invite a spirit medium to perform a soul-summoning ritual?”

“Why go to all that trouble?” Lang Jiuchuan gave him a sideways glance, and in the westward-facing section of the courtyard, she found a shaded, shadowy spot away from the light. She had him go and fetch incense, while she herself took out yellow spirit paper and tore out a small paper figure. When Lang Zhengping returned with the incense, she asked him for the Old Madam’s birth date and the characters of her name, which she wrote on the back of the paper figure.

Then she placed the paper figure inside the Old Madam’s inner garment, had Lang Zhengping hold it in his hands, and lit the incense herself. She formed a hand seal with both hands, her lips moving in a low murmur.

“Wandering soul adrift — where do you now reside? The three souls, descend swiftly; the seven spirits have not yet returned. I summon the true soul of Zhu Sufen — heed the ringing of my bell, and return with haste…”

Lang Jiuchuan unhooked the Dizhong bell from her waist. With a turn of her wrist, she began ringing it in steady, rhythmic shakes and chimes.

The Dizhong sounded — the bell rang — melodious and long-resonating, its voice carrying between the living world and the realm of the dead.

A cold yin wind drifted in.

Without warning, a thick mist rose from the earth and sky all around them.

Lang Zhengping instinctively shielded his eyes. When he opened them again, the scene before him had completely changed — eerie and dim, with countless shadowy figures drifting and gliding forward all around.

Lang Jiuchuan had somehow come to stand beside him. Taking in this sight, her brow furrowed: “That’s odd — why would the Old Madam have ended up here?”

Lang Zhengping’s voice trembled: “Where — where are we?”

“The Road to the Underworld!”