Return to her courtyard immediately.

Lang Jiuchuan’s words stunned everyone present. Physician Chen’s hand flinched slightly as he had just placed it on her wrist to take her pulse — he had somehow, once again, failed to find a pulse.

“What time do you think it is to be so stubborn? The physician is right in the middle of taking your pulse — what are you being so stubborn about?” Cui Shi’s face flushed red with exasperation.

“Ninth Sister, don’t be willful. Let the physician finish diagnosing you and write a prescription first. Your color is terrible.” Wu Shi added a dry attempt at persuasion.

Lang Jiuchuan shook her head. “A prescription won’t help. I have medicine in my courtyard.”

As she spoke, she pulled her hand back, stood up, pushed Wu Shi aside, and — to everyone’s stunned bewilderment — began making her way unsteadily toward the door, forcing herself out despite her faltering steps.

This wretched child!

Cui Shi’s eyes went red with fury.

Wu Shi shot her a glance and ran after Lang Jiuchuan. “Ninth Sister—”

She had been a daughter-in-law of the Lang Family for several years now, and had assumed the First Branch’s youngest sister-in-law was the troublesome one — who would have thought the one in the Second Branch was even more so? And yet somehow she found it impossible to simply stand by and do nothing.

Wu Shi caught up with Lang Jiuchuan and called in a rapid succession of orders for servants to fetch a stout maid to carry her back — otherwise, the way she was now, she would likely collapse halfway.

Lang Jiuchuan was weak, but she herself knew she wasn’t quite this weak. The main issue was that she had been engaged in a remote spiritual duel, which was draining her spiritual power and causing her complexion to look so alarming.

But there was no way for the family to know that — they could only see the surface, and were genuinely afraid she might give out at any moment. They forcibly carried her back on someone’s back.

Cui Shi stood frozen for a long moment before following, making sure to bring Physician Chen along.

Physician Chen thought to himself: This Ninth Young Lady, she is truly the most difficult one to attend to in this entire residence. She won’t even listen.

Back in her courtyard, Lang Jiuchuan went straight into the study. Seeing that Wu Shi had followed her inside, she simply took out the medicinal pills she had prepared earlier, swallowed one, and then quietly channeled her inner power, driving the blood rushing upward to her head.

The color returned to her face almost at once.

Wu Shi: “!”

What kind of miraculous elixir could possibly work that fast?

“Elder Sister-in-law, after taking this medicine one needs to rest for the effects to fully set in. I must ask you to excuse me.” Lang Jiuchuan picked up a bracelet from the desk and pressed it into Wu Shi’s hand. “Thank you. This bracelet is for little Xuan’er to play with.”

With that, she pushed Wu Shi out the door and shut it with a firm click.

Wu Shi stood there holding the bracelet, staring at the now-locked study door, and blinked. She felt vaguely as though none of this had been quite real.

Then she lowered her head and looked at what she was holding — her eyes went wide. It was a pink eighteen-bead tourmaline bracelet, each bead perfectly round and luminous, translucent and lively. The pendant was a finely carved jade ruyi knot suspended from gold and silver threads, the craftsmanship exquisite.

Was this one of the gifts the Shen family or the Zhao family had sent? The recipients of the Ninth Young Lady’s gifts had also received things like this — from what she had heard, aside from the family patriarch, the grandmother, and Second Aunt, no one else had been given anything.

No — wait. This was a thank-you gift. For her.

Wu Shi pressed her lips together. She had only done what a managing daughter-in-law was supposed to do, and the other party had given her a precious bracelet in return.

Everyone said she had grown up on a farm estate, crude and ignorant of propriety. Quite a few of the servants still looked down on her, to say nothing of the masters who had always lived in fine comfort in Wu Jing.

But ignorant of propriety?

Looking at this now — perhaps not.

“Where is she?”

Cui Shi’s voice came from behind her. Wu Shi came back to herself and turned around. “Second Aunt, Ninth Sister has taken her medicine and is lying down. Her color has visibly improved. There is no need to worry.”

Cui Shi’s brow furrowed — she clearly didn’t believe it. She also noticed the bracelet in Wu Shi’s hand, wondering if her nephew’s wife had received a favor and was now speaking on her behalf.

Wu Shi felt a little awkward. “Ninth Sister sent it for little Xuan’er to play with. Second Aunt, I would not dare to jest about Ninth Sister’s health. Her color truly is much improved — I just don’t know what medicine she’s taking. It’s quite remarkable.”

Cui Shi thought of Jialan having once mentioned that Lang Jiuchuan had written her own prescription to compound the medicine herself, and that Old Nanny had said the courtyard had been fragrant with medicine these past two days. Could it be that she truly had some knowledge of such things?

But she had been kept at the farm estate all along — how could she have learned any of this?

Cui Shi stared at the tightly shut study door, feeling more and more that the person inside was wrapped in layer upon layer of mystery.

“Since she doesn’t appreciate the gesture, leave it.” Cui Shi turned and walked away. Passing by Physician Chen with his medicine chest still on his back, she brought him along as she left.

Wu Shi let out a quiet sigh.

A mother and daughter — how had things come to be so estranged between them?

The thought quietly gave rise to self-reflection. She and little Xuan’er — they must never end up like this.

Inside the study.

Lang Jiuchuan summoned the Panguan brush, drew out a sheet of yellow paper, and without bothering to open the cinnabar — bit open her fingertip instead, using her own blood as the ink for the talisman.

When the spiritual talisman manifested, she pressed back several complex hand seals in rapid succession, then slapped her own spiritual platform hard.

Sizzle.

The talisman made contact with the spiritual platform and ignited without flame. Golden light poured into the spiritual platform, surging straight toward her soul.

“Jiangche, move aside.”

Sensing a sweeping surge of fierce and destructive energy suddenly invading the spirit court — overwhelming as a collapsing mountain — Jiangche’s spiritual consciousness instinctively moved to intercept it completely. The moment Lang Jiuchuan’s voice rang out, it immediately dodged aside, wrapping itself in its spiritual power.

The fierce energy struck like a force of ten thousand catties, slamming heavily against Lang Jiuchuan’s soul.

Jiangche recoiled in horror. “Are you insane?!”

This madwoman — could she not stop using these plans that damage herself a thousandfold to harm the enemy even a little? Was she not in enough of a hurry to die?

“The other party is hiding somewhere unknown, yet can hook my soul — which means they are using orthodox Daoist methods. If I engage them in a slow, drawn-out remote spiritual duel, I will only drain my own spiritual power. Once the spiritual power is gone, this body will decay even in the dead of winter.” Lang Jiuchuan’s voice was cold and ruthless. “They try to bind my soul — so let them taste the backlash of my soul striking back. This Blood Fierce Destructive Curse Talisman carries my blood. Follow it in a moment and find that thing. I want to see — who is trying to kill me again and again.”

Whether it had been herself, or the original soul — whoever had targeted her had done so repeatedly.

Jiangche stiffened.

Then, the fierce and righteous energy contained in the destructive force slammed against her soul. She seized up abruptly, her body curling inward — her soul in searing pain. Yet it was precisely because of this that the destructive energy viciously severed the spiritual connection between her soul and the person casting the spell, freeing her from being drawn away any further. Her soul settled back, taking root once more in the spirit court.

“Now.”

Jiangche heard those words and looked — a thread of blood light coiled into a line, stretching away into the distance, as if connected to somewhere far away.

It vanished from the study.

Lang Jiuchuan, ashen-faced and trembling, picked up another sheet of paper and drew a Soul-Calming Talisman for herself, then sat cross-legged and circulated the Grand Celestial Cycle.

The talisman’s power was drawn by her through every limb and bone, then gathered upward toward the crown of her head, pressed down by her into the soul within the spirit court — again and again.

At that same moment, somewhere in Wu Jing, in an ordinary small courtyard, a middle-aged man in a dark robe sat cross-legged on the floor, murmuring incantations in a low, continuous voice. In his hand, a ritual bell swayed from time to time. Before him was a ritual formation drawn in cinnabar — inside it, a basin of water, and before the basin, a cloth doll with a strip of paper bearing a birth date and hour attached to it.

The moment Lang Jiuchuan severed the Thousand-Li Soul-Hooking Art with her ruthless and life-risking method, the ritual formation exploded with a tremendous boom.

The formation destroyed, the technique broken — backlash arrived immediately.

The destructive energy, laced with a net of blood-light swords, came crashing down over the man’s head.

Pfft.

“Aah—” The man in the ritual crown let out a piercing, wretched cry. He threw his head back and spat a mouthful of fresh blood, collapsing to the ground. His jet-black hair turned white strand by strand.

The man pressed a hand over his heaving, agonized chest and gazed into the distance, his eyes filled with utter disbelief. “How is this possible?!”