Whether the Xuan Clan had killed Lang Jiuchuan themselves — who would dare say such a thing? Jiangche couldn’t claim to know either, and it certainly couldn’t just make things up, so it could only analyze the situation for her.

The temperament Lang Jiuchuan had shown was that of someone wild and unbridled, someone who would never bow and scrape to others — meaning she could not possibly act based on other people’s whims, let alone humble herself before anyone. So if she truly had ability, and they failed to recruit her, she would have become an enemy, and enemies get eliminated.

As for whether it was the Xuan Clan who did it — there was no evidence, and one couldn’t say for certain, even if the Xuan Clan did have that insufferably arrogant streak in them.

“Even if it wasn’t the Xuan Clan, with that combative temper of yours — defying heaven and earth alike — who could possibly stand it without bringing a hammer down on you? Look at this, just like that — that foul temper of yours, who wouldn’t want to be rid of you?” Jiangche dodged the paperweight she hurled at it.

Lang Jiuchuan shot it a withering look.

Jiangche continued: “Regardless of who did it, the fact that they were able to reduce you to this state proves one thing — the other party had the upper hand. Well, perhaps you were the more capable one, but you fell into a ditch, and that was absolutely your problem. You capsized. Either you walked into someone’s trap, or you were outmaneuvered. Whichever it was, you must take it as a lesson, strengthen yourself, grow more powerful — and by that, I mean repairing your shattered body and refining your soul.”

“Who doesn’t know that?” Lang Jiuchuan’s voice carried a cool edge. “Debts of hatred are repaid in blood. Even if I capsized in a ditch, I have returned, and those who schemed against me ought to be trembling in their boots by now.”

“Don’t speak so big. You drew a few talismans and acted like you were at death’s door — you’re still far too green to be talking about vengeance and reckoning.” Jiangche gave a light, dismissive sniff.

Lang Jiuchuan’s death-stare swung over to it again.

Jiangche braced itself.

If she wants to fight, fine — she’s weak right now, so I’d definitely have the upper hand!

But Lang Jiuchuan simply gathered the completed medicinal talismans and placed them in a jade box. She then picked up the Yang-Restoration talisman, dissolved it once more in ash-water from before the altar, and drank it down in one go.

“I am entering seclusion. Handle Jian Lan and the others for the next few days.” With that, she settled cross-legged onto the meditation cushion specially set up in the study, formed her hand seals, circulated the Grand Heavenly Cycle, and guided the essence of the Yang-Restoration talisman on a journey through every limb and vessel in her body.

Jiangche had said one thing correctly — the enemy capable of killing her was certainly no ordinary monk or Daoist; they must have possessed genuine cultivation. As she was now, she was far too weak for a direct confrontation. She had to strengthen herself first.

Vengeance could wait. She had all the patience in the world.

The ones who should be anxious were those who had schemed against her from the shadows — because she had come back.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

When Lang Jiuchuan opened her eyes again, she could feel the change in her body unmistakably. The Spiritual Court had grown broader and clearer, her soul had grown more solid and firm, and the Dao-intention gathered in her core energy center, threading through the meridians of her body, stirring forth a vigorous vitality.

She had strength again.

Lang Jiuchuan did not bother with any concealment techniques, and simply stood before Jiangche. “Well?”

Jiangche clicked its tongue in admiration. “I can say with certainty — you must have been a rare, heaven-born vessel of the Dao in your past life.”

A single Yang-Restoration talisman, and she had been reborn with renewed vitality. Without concealment techniques, she would still look perfectly fine to any mortal eye — they would never be able to tell that underneath it all, her body was still in pieces.

To Jiangche’s eyes, she appeared as though veiled in a thin layer of gauze — somewhat mysterious, the depths of her hidden. If Jiangche itself could not see through it, then an ordinary mortal certainly could not.

This meant Lang Jiuchuan no longer needed to spend spiritual energy maintaining her body’s outward appearance, and could preserve that power to nourish herself instead — a favorable development.

Lang Jiuchuan tested it herself all the same. She walked out of the study, and Xiao Man happened to be coming toward her with a food box in hand. Seeing her, Xiao Man quickly curtsied. “Young Miss, you’ve finally come out.”

Jiangche explained from the side: “After you entered your trance, I mimicked your voice and said you were attending to matters in the study and were not to be disturbed, and to simply leave meals at the door. They’ve been doing that these past few days.”

“Very good.” Lang Jiuchuan gave a word of praise, observed that Xiao Man showed no sign of noticing anything amiss, and felt greatly reassured. “Is something the matter?”

Xiao Man lifted the food box in her hands. “Today is the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, Miss. The household has prepared Laba congee, and I’ve just fetched it from the main kitchen — it’s still warm. Won’t you have some?”

The eighth day of the twelfth month. Once Laba was past, New Year was near — the year was drawing to a close.

Lang Jiuchuan’s stomach gave a rumble, and she nodded in willing agreement.

Returning to the main room, she noticed a clean, fresh fragrance in the air — a potted narcissus had appeared inside. Nanny Gu and Jian Lan came in from outside and, seeing Lang Jiuchuan standing before the narcissus, explained: “It was sent by the manor’s gardener. Apparently, it was on the Young Master’s instruction.”

With the household still within the hundred days of mourning, gaudy flowers were not encouraged in the various rooms and courtyards — especially in the main reception areas. Delicate and understated flowers such as these, however, were perfectly fine.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at the small white buds and pointed to a spot, directing that they be moved there.

This was not the first time she had rearranged the flora, stones, and ornaments in the small courtyard. Each time she did, the yard took on a remarkably harmonious and pleasing appearance. The others had long since concluded she simply had some talent in that area, so when she gave direction now, no one raised any objection.

Lang Jiuchuan sat at the table to eat her Laba congee. It was indeed sweet, and she narrowed her eyes in contentment.

Jian Lan watched from the side and asked, “Is it sweet enough, Young Miss? If not, I can fetch some brown sugar to add a little more.”

She had noticed it before, when she brought a bowl of sweet lotus seed soup — the Ninth Young Miss had a fondness for sweetness. That syrupy, cloying soup had been savored with obvious relish.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes lit up faintly. She restrained herself with an air of modest propriety. “Wouldn’t it be too sweet?”

Jian Lan hid a smile. “In your own courtyard, you may eat as sweetly as you like.”

She fetched the small porcelain jar of brown sugar and added an extra spoonful to the bowl. And indeed — after Lang Jiuchuan tasted it, her long phoenix eyes curved shut entirely.

Nanny Gu watched and said, “Young Miss’s energy and spirits seem much improved. Today is Laba — you should go pay your respects to the Old Madam and the Madam.”

Lang Jiuchuan gave an amused half-smile. “Are you reminding me to be mindful of my filial duties?”

“This servant would not dare.” Nanny Gu said. “This servant only hopes for harmony in the Second Branch household, and that the Madam and Young Miss may meet with good fortune in all things.”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a light, dismissive snort. “I won’t be going to the Madam’s side. The two of us are simply incompatible by nature. My presence there would only be a thorn in her eye — why would I make myself such a nuisance? I will go and pay my respects to the Old Madam, and that will suffice.”

Nanny Gu frowned. Jian Lan quickly cut in: “Oh, that reminds me, Young Miss — you were occupied earlier and didn’t want to be disturbed, so the seamstresses haven’t yet taken your measurements or chosen fabrics for your winter clothes. Shall I have them come over?”

“Mm, let them come after I’ve visited the Old Madam.”

Jian Lan said her agreement, then glanced sideways at Nanny Gu with a tiny shake of her head — pressing too hard would backfire. The Young Miss was not the sort to be pushed.

Lang Jiuchuan pretended not to see their silent exchange. She finished eating, set down her bowl, and was promptly wrapped in a large cloak by Jian Lan and ushered off toward the Old Madam’s courtyard.

But the moment she stepped out of the courtyard, Lang Zhengping’s manservant Gu Quan came hurrying over to invite her to the front study. He said that someone from the Zhao Family had arrived and wished to speak with her.

Lang Jiuchuan’s hand made the slightest movement. She pinched her fingers together in calculation — merit had come knocking at her door.