Lang Jiuchuan had returned to the manor with another carriage full of gifts — this news spread throughout the household, and everyone wore different expressions upon hearing it.

Jian Lan and Old Nanny, along with Da Man and Xiao Man, were in the middle of cataloguing the inventory. The group stared at the table laden with precious tonics and even two rare edition books, all of them lost in thought.

On any ordinary day, such precious tonics would be nearly impossible for others to obtain even at great cost, yet for their young lady, they seemed to come with remarkable ease — and not just a small amount, but a great deal.

When Lang Jiuchuan went to pay her respects to Old Madam Lang, she quietly used a medicinal talisman on her to prevent any damage to her soul’s breath from having previously walked the path of the Yellow Springs, then took her pulse. Finding nothing seriously wrong, she stayed to exchange a few words before returning to her own courtyard and burying herself in the study.

Xue Shi had provided a considerable amount of medicinal herbs, and combined with what the Shen Family had given before, she intended to refine some essence-fortifying pills for daily use.

Lang Jiuchuan’s movements were not hidden from anyone. Cui Shi naturally learned of them as well, and seeing that Lang Jiuchuan had no intention of coming to her side, her expression soured considerably.

Nanny Cheng, reading the situation, took the opportune moment to present the Rong Yan Pills that Lang Jiuchuan had previously given, taking out one pill and offering it to her, saying, “Our young lady still has you in her heart, Madam. There were only two bottles of these Rong Yan Pills in total, and she gave one to you and one to Old Madam — no one else received any.”

Cui Shi stared at the fragrant pill for a long moment before finally accepting and swallowing it, then said, “Whether she has me in her heart or not doesn’t matter. As long as she doesn’t come here to vex me, that’s enough.”

Nanny Cheng suppressed a smile and said, “I think you’re just being stubborn with your words. If that’s how it is, then why did you glance toward the door so many times? Oh, surely that couldn’t have been you hoping the young lady would come.”

Cui Shi immediately felt her composure slipping, and said, “Who knows what trouble she’s stirring up out there — I just hope she doesn’t cause some great catastrophe that can’t be cleaned up. Go and find out what you can. Better that than learning about it after the fact when there’s nothing left to salvage.”

Nanny Cheng smiled and agreed.

Cui Shi lowered her gaze to the jade porcelain bottle, pressing a hand over her chest, suppressing the tangle of complex emotions welling up inside her. After a long while, she rose and walked to the side room where she usually read and wrote, and retrieved a long redwood box from the shelf.

When she opened it, inside lay a scroll. She reached out to touch it, her fingertips trembling faintly. It was a long time before she picked it up and slowly unrolled it — yet even from just the very top, a pair of narrow, smiling, imperious phoenix eyes met her gaze, as though watching her through the paper itself.

Cui Shi’s eyes reddened in an instant. She rolled the scroll back up, returned it to the box, pressed her hand against the lid, and struck her own chest several times, tears streaming down her face.

……

The Qi Household.

After a physician had applied blood-dispersing medicinal ointment to Qi Xingyu’s injury, she furiously smashed a premium set of cobalt-blue fine porcelain teacups, her chest heaving with rage.

Since her elder sister had become the young mistress of the Rong Family, she had never suffered such a great loss — and to have lost it before an insignificant, short-lived wretch, no less.

Infuriating beyond words!

“And those few lowly servants?” Qi Xingyu’s gaze was dark and icy as she looked to the maidservant at her side.

“Fourth Young Miss, they are all waiting in the front courtyard for you to decide their punishment.”

“Failure to protect their mistress — give them all one hundred strikes of the board. Those who survive the beating are to be sold off; those who die are to be thrown in the mass graves.” Every measure of Qi Xingyu’s growing anger seemed to make the swollen area on her forehead throb more fiercely, feeding her viciousness further.

A senior maidservant opened her mouth to plead for mercy, was given a sharp tug on her sleeve by another, and then said only, “Yes, Fourth Young Miss.”

She had just begun to leave when Qi Xingyu suddenly stood: “Wait. I’ll go watch personally. I want to see which of these dog-servants dares to fool me.”

In the front courtyard, every person who had accompanied Qi Xingyu that day was kneeling there. Snow fell in drifts, settling on their heads, bitterly cold and bone-chilling — yet it was nothing compared to the despair in their hearts.

When Qi Xingyu arrived, everyone kowtowed and begged for mercy in rapid succession, but none of it stirred even a flicker of pity in her.

She needed to vent the fury burning within her.

The boards fell. Cries of agony rang out one after another.

Jiangche watched Qi Xingyu coldly, his gaze falling on the string of Five Emperor Coins at her waist. She truly dared to accumulate more karmic debts of killing.

The crack of boards echoed through the courtyard. Those with weaker constitutions — such as one of the maidservants — were already barely breathing, and in mere moments, the courtyard had gained another resentful soul.

A bloody miasma spread through the air, gradually coalescing into a blood-red mist that surged toward Qi Xingyu.

One resentful soul after another rose from their bodies, clustering around Qi Xingyu — yet hindered by the Five Emperor Coins at her waist, they dared not draw near.

Qi Xingyu looked at those bloodied, mangled figures, frowning. She felt no particular satisfaction — only a growing sense of irritation.

In the courtyard, a surge of cold yin wind swept through, carrying with it a flurry of snow.

She shuddered violently and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, saying, “Enough. No need to continue. Those who haven’t died can be sold off.”

Someone acknowledged the order.

Yet of those who had been beaten, only two people retained even a breath of life.

Someone came rushing urgently from outside the courtyard. Jiangche looked over — it was a woman in ornate clothing adorned with vermilion hairpins, with a middle-aged man dressed in equally fine garments following behind her.

These were Qi Zuyao and his wife, who had just returned from a banquet outside and hurried over upon hearing the news.

They paid no attention to the people lying in the courtyard — they only saw their precious daughter standing there, her face pale and drawn, the swelling on her forehead livid, and their own expressions darkened with anger.

Upon learning that Qi Xingyu had already called off the remaining strikes, Qi Zuyao said with a grim face, “Failure to protect their mistress — what is the point of keeping them?”

He gave the household steward a meaningful look, and the steward immediately bowed and directed people to drag those individuals away to be dealt with.

Not one would be spared — not a single one — regardless of whether they still breathed.

“Father will have a word with General Niu of the Western Grand Camp and ask him to find you some capable guards. Those hired from outside simply cannot compare to those trained in the military barracks,” Qi Zuyao said soothingly.

Madam Qi also added, “Exactly. My poor child must have been so frightened. Go back and rest well — we absolutely cannot let this leave a scar. Don’t go out again for a while. Once you’ve recovered, you must be a beautiful bride when you marry in the third month.”

But Qi Xingyu was in low spirits. She gave a perfunctory nod and turned to look at the punishment bench left sitting in the courtyard.

The people who had been beaten had already been dragged away, but the blood pooled on the bench was still dripping steadily downward, staining the thin snow on the ground a vivid red — a sight that was particularly jarring to behold.

If you don’t want to die young, stop accumulating the karma of slaughter.

That short-lived wretch’s words echoed in her ears like a haunting refrain.

Qi Xingyu’s face drained of all color. Her body would not stop trembling, and she felt as though every part of her were cold as an icehouse.

So cold!

What she did not know was that around her, several resentful souls were watching with hungry, predatory eyes, the blood-resentment energy around them forming with frightening speed.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

The wind keened and wailed.

The karmic debts of killing she had accumulated transformed into resentment energy, and mingling with the fresh blood-resentment from the courtyard, it all came sweeping toward her in a great wave, sealing her in from all sides.

The blood-resentment transformed into karmic poison, crystallizing into a blade that struck at the string of Five Emperor Coins at her waist.

Tick.

The coin string fell, striking the ground with a dull thud.

Qi Xingyu stared blankly at her dropped ornament. A shrill, piercing scream tore from her throat, her eyes rolled back, and she fell straight backward.

Jiangche watched as the resentful souls swarmed around her like starving dogs upon meat, while the blood-karmic poison burrowed entirely into the swollen, broken skin of her forehead, then turned and left.

Those who commit too many wrongs will destroy themselves in the end.

The crow’s mouth has never been wrong.