Lang Jiuchuan emerged fully from her meditative stillness on the last day of the year — the morning of New Year’s Eve.

The moment she stirred, Jiangche, who had long been quiet in his own cultivation, also withdrew from his meditative state and drifted out. He watched her open her eyes, and for a moment he was transfixed.

Those phoenix eyes — newly grown, inherited through a transfer of karmic cause and consequence from another — fit her as though they had always been a part of her. Those pupils, black as a fathomless pool yet brilliant as glass, carried within their depths — in the instant of an unhurried glance — a faint trace of golden light that seemed to cut straight through to the soul.

Perfect. Perfectly suited.

And her body as well — after several days of meditative recovery, the meridians had been stretched and expanded by the force of the heavenly punishment’s lightning, so that the yin energy had been entirely swept away. In its place remained a subtle, righteous power of lightning — an aura so formidable that even ghosts would not dare approach.

Jiangche gave a soft snort and, without a word, burrowed back into the Spirit Terrace. He refused to acknowledge — even to himself — the faint pang of envy. If he were to find himself a new physical form, would it not be equally magnificent? Supremely imposing, radiating the bearing of a true king?

Lang Jiuchuan paid no mind to the sulking, temperamental tiger. She simply looked toward the bronze mirror standing in the study — and at those eyes, flawless and beyond reproach. She reached up and touched them lightly, and a small smile curved her lips.

But when her gaze fell to her wrists, that smile quietly faded. The tendons in her hands and feet still needed to fully knit together. Once they were all restored, she could completely rebuild this physical form in earnest — the blood and vital energy would flow unimpeded, and only then would this body truly be strong and whole.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at her eyes again and suddenly paused. These phoenix eyes — were they not a little too similar to the pair in that portrait of Lang Zhengfan hanging in the ancestral hall?

Her brow furrowed. Her lips pressed together.

“Has your young lady still not come out? Today is already New Year’s Eve.” Nanny Cheng’s voice drifted in from outside the study.

Lang Jiuchuan gave it no further thought. She rose, and opened the study door that had been sealed shut for days.

Nanny Cheng brightened and looked over. Seeing Lang Jiuchuan standing in the doorway, stepping out, she began: “Young lady, I’m glad you are well…”

The words caught in her throat. Looking at Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes, she felt a momentary daze — the young master — but in the next instant, the cold wind snapped her back to clarity. She looked again: the same eyes as before, only these past few days she had come to look even more like the young master, particularly those eyes.

Nanny Cheng said: “Young lady, the Gong Family of the Xuan Clan has sent people. You were in recovery, so we did not dare disturb you. But Madam has some things she wishes to discuss with you — regarding the calamity upon the Lang Family.”

“I will go find Madam after I have washed and dressed.”

Nanny Cheng murmured her acknowledgment, privately wondering when this young lady would ever bring herself to call Madam “Mother.”

After being tended to by Nanny Gu, Jian Lan, and the others — changing her clothes and washing her face with a damp cloth — Lang Jiuchuan had by now gathered from their words all the information about the Gong Family’s arrival.

It seemed Cui Shi and the Gong Family’s matriarch were quite close, to send direct family members — and two of them at that. Nothing like Qi Xinfei of the Qi Family, who had dispatched some feeble old Daoist to bumble around with a half-hearted attempt. Speaking of Qi Xinfei — she ought to have been on her way by now. She had not miscalculated: she had no way of surviving past the new year.

Nor had she miscalculated. Even as Qi Xinyu waited for the second Daoist the Rong Family had dispatched to drive away the malevolent corruption, she was also met by the yin envoys come to collect her soul. Before the evil corruption could be expelled, the envoys ruthlessly dragged her spirit from her body, and she breathed her last.

The newly arrived Daoist from the Rong Family looked utterly stricken.

Madam Qi let out a sharp, piercing cry and crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

The Qi household descended into chaos.

Meanwhile, on Lang Jiuchuan’s side — she had just entered Cui Shi’s room. The table was laid with some breakfast. Cui Shi was seated at the table, lost in some thought, when she heard footsteps and looked up, beginning in a cool tone: “You’re here — have some breakfast first, then we can—”

She had a handkerchief in her hand. When she saw Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes, the handkerchief fell from her fingers in shock.

The resemblance — the resemblance was uncanny. Those phoenix eyes were identical to Fanhuan’s. How had she never noticed before?

Cui Shi’s heart pounded wildly, her color draining. Nanny Cheng quickly steadied her shoulders and called out to her.

Cui Shi caught herself, hastily withdrew her gaze, and said stiffly: “Sit.”

Lang Jiuchuan sat down. “Let us eat first.”

Mother and daughter sat across from each other in silence, sharing the morning meal.

Lang Jiuchuan had an excellent appetite. The Lang household was in mourning and could not prepare meat dishes, but even the vegetarian fare had been prepared with real skill and flavor. Moreover, she had eaten nothing at all for the past several days — and so she swept the entire table clean: the buns, the side dishes, the congee, the small pastries and snacks, all of it.

Cui Shi found herself staring in mild astonishment.

Was she always this much of an eater?

“Madam, today is New Year’s Eve — it is time to go pay respects to the old matriarch,” Nanny Cheng reminded gently.

Cui Shi looked at Lang Jiuchuan. “Shall we talk on the way?”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a small nod.

The two of them dressed appropriately and set out toward Shoukang Hall, accompanied by their attendants. Along the way, Cui Shi recounted what she had revealed to the Gong Family.

She looked at Lang Jiuchuan, a trace of uncertainty in her expression. “Was it wrong of me to let it slip that you know a little of the mystical arts? Now that I have said it, and they have already read your great-uncle’s features and declared he is rising in fortune with no mark of a petty enemy’s malice — does that not point toward you…”

Lang Jiuchuan heard the unease in her tone and said: “There is nothing to conceal — I have never intended to hide it. Whether you said it or not makes no difference. As for whether this disaster was drawn by me — it most likely was.”

Cui Shi stumbled in her step, her voice sharpening: “Why? Why would you have drawn such immense trouble upon yourself?”

Lang Jiuchuan stopped walking and looked at her. “I would like to know that myself.”

Cui Shi was taken aback. What did those words mean — she herself did not know?

“Then we must tell the Gong Family’s people. The Gong Family’s standing in the Xuan Clan is second only to the very top — I can take you to seek the protection of the Gong Family’s matriarch. If there has been some misunderstanding, she can also mediate on your behalf.”

At these words, something quietly desolate stirred within Lang Jiuchuan’s heart — she did not know whether it was a remnant feeling from the original soul — and a faint smile crossed her lips. “Madam does not scold me? I have brought such a deadly catastrophe upon us, one that may even implicate the Lang Family. Should you not be furious? Should you not be driving me out? Why are you instead thinking of my welfare? What have I done to merit such consideration from you?”

Madam — this shelter comes a little late, doesn’t it.

Cui Shi’s heart was pierced. Her face went white as hoarfrost, as though suppressing something fierce, and after a long moment, she pressed out a single sentence: “Is this really the time to be raising such things?”

Lang Jiuchuan turned to look in a certain direction and said: “Madam, this deadly catastrophe is no misunderstanding. There is no mediation to be had — there is no need to spend that favor. Besides, who it is that is moving against me — that is still unknown.”

This enmity of hers was a blood debt. The only way to resolve it was to the death — only then would she be worthy of the original soul, and only then could she truly claim this body as her own.

Cui Shi did not understand the meaning behind her words, and was just about to speak — when the very edge of her vision caught a faint stir of movement.

Two figures emerged from around a corner. They wore a dusting of frost and snow, strikingly handsome in bearing, remarkable in presence. Who else could it be but Gong Qi and his martial brother?

As for those two — they had also not anticipated that after all this waiting, it would take until New Year’s Eve itself before they finally caught sight of the long-sought ninth young lady of the Lang Family.

It was her. It had to be her.

Without anyone making introductions, they recognized Lang Jiuchuan at a single glance.

And what the young man of the Lang Family had said was not wrong — she did indeed carry something of the same aura as those in their order. She was of the same path.

Gong Qi bounded over, studied Lang Jiuchuan from head to toe, his eyes gleaming brightly with a dark glint flickering within, and called out: “Ninth Young Lady Lang — this humble Daoist pays his respects!”

But then Lang Jiuchuan heard a voice transmitted directly into her ear: “Who in the world are you — how dare you take possession of another’s body?”

A new month begins — please continue to look after Ah Jiu!