Gong Qi struck first — a Paralysis Curse launched straight at his target — and then launched himself forward like a lit firecracker toward Wumu Daoren, fist already swinging.

Thud!

Not only was Wumu Daoren left completely unable to move, he caught a hook punch square to the face and went flying backward, crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.

And that wasn’t the end of it. Gong Qi closed the distance in three swift strides, straddled him, and began raining fist after fist down on Wumu Daoren without pause.

Everyone was stunned.

What ferocious brutality.

Huangmei Dao cried out in alarm: “Fellow Daoist Gong—”

“You’re no innocent party either. You’re getting it too!” Gong Qi shot him a cold sideways glance, then swung his foot out and kicked him to the ground, following up with a flurry of punches and kicks.

Cheng Daochang’s legs were trembling uncontrollably. He shuffled toward Gong Si, his eyes weak and helpless — aren’t you going to do something?

Gong Si gently closed his eyes, hands clenched at his sides. Let him vent. That’s fine.

Jiangche watched Gong Qi descend into his frenzy and excitedly called out to Lang Jiuchuan: “Absolutely unhinged — he’s your equal.”

Lang Jiuchuan narrowed her eyes. “Something’s not quite right. Look closely at his eyes.”

Jiangche made a sound of surprise and fixed his gaze on Gong Qi. In the depths of those ordinarily charming peach-blossom eyes, a faint glow seemed to flash — reddish, shot through with brilliant gold — distinctly abnormal.

“What is that?”

Lang Jiuchuan wanted to fold her arms and watch the spectacle unfold, but felt that doing so would break her composed image, so she clasped her hands loosely in front of her waist instead. “He likely carries some hidden ailment — one not widely known. These two Daochang from the Rong Family struck a nerve and triggered some kind of relapse.”

Jiangche rubbed his chin. “A nerve? He said earlier that the thing he hates most is being treated like a fool. Could it be… that he actually has some mental impairment?”

Lang Jiuchuan said nothing. Without evidence, it wasn’t her place to say — but there was certainly some undisclosed condition, and then there was that soul-stabilizing medicinal pill he carried on his person at all times. Could it be…?

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes shifted. The hand concealed within her sleeve formed a hand seal, and her intent reached her eyes. Without anyone able to detect it, a flash of golden light passed through the depths of her pupils — and she saw Gong Qi’s true condition clearly.

Oh. His divine soul is unstable. Quite unsettled.

No wonder he carried that kind of medicine. As it turned out, his own divine soul was equally volatile. Was that because of the red light in his eyes?

That seductive, glaring red light threaded through with gold — what kind of affliction was this?

It seemed the Gong Clan had its fair share of secrets.

Gong Si counted the seconds in his mind, then opened his eyes, walked over, and closed his hand firmly around Gong Qi’s wrist. His voice was low and unhurried: “Seventh, that’s enough.”

Wumu Daoren and Huangmei Dao, faces swollen and battered: —!

You reckless, shameless wretch — why didn’t you call a halt while we were still being beaten half to death?!

Being pinned down and pummeled was far more humiliating than losing a proper duel of techniques — and far more infuriating.

Gong Si paid them no attention. Instead he reached into Gong Qi’s robes, retrieved a small porcelain jade vial, tipped out a medicinal pill, and fed it to him.

Gong Qi gradually settled. He looked at the two Daochang — faces swollen purple, noses bloated — and blinked, then said with a cold laugh: “The so-called mission of acting on Heaven’s behalf means striking down the wicked and subduing demons, protecting the common people from the harm of malevolent forces, and righting the injustices of this world. Yet what you call acting on Heaven’s behalf is inviting malevolence and summoning wicked spirits to harm others. The path you walk is a demonic one, and your actions are the deeds of the wicked.”

“You raised your hand to avenge someone who died from the poisoning of malevolent energy — yet the harm you wrought was not confined to a single person, but fell upon an entire household. What you have done is nothing more than draping a false cloak of Heaven’s justice over the pursuit of your own private desires. Do you truly take everyone for a fool? You even dared to employ that vile art of summoning Yin malevolence — could it be that the Rong Family has privately violated the prohibitions laid down by its ancestors, unearthed those forbidden techniques from antiquity, and passed them down to protector elders such as yourselves, all to consolidate the Xuan Clan’s standing?”

Cheng Daochang gave a violent shudder. The charge being leveled was enormous. This was a direct accusation that the Rong Family had abandoned the righteous path in favor of a demonic one. If that were truly the case, the Rong Family could no longer hold its place among the Xuan Clan, could no longer call themselves practitioners of the righteous way — they would be reviled, their ancestral foundation utterly dismantled.

Gong Si stood with his arms folded, glancing sideways at Gong Qi. Something passed through his eyes — a flicker of deeper meaning — but he did not speak a word.

Lang Jiuchuan also looked toward Gong Qi. Escalating the charges to implicate the entire family — is this for the greater good, or is there a personal motive behind it?

Jiangche said excitedly, “If he buries the Rong Family, does that mean they won’t dare come after you anymore?”

“There are his own calculations behind this. He may be young, but when it comes to scheming, that senior brother of his is no match for him.” Lang Jiuchuan rubbed her fingertips together.

This also suggested, from a different angle, that within the Xuan Clans, not everyone was useless. Across the various clans, there were certainly some exceptionally formidable individuals — she could not afford to be careless.

“A charge is easy enough to fabricate. Fellow Daoist Gong struck us this viciously — is that what the righteous path looks like? Hrgh—” Wumu Daoren coughed up a mouthful of blood. He could feel bones were broken somewhere in his body, and there was not a single part of his face that didn’t throb with pain.

Gong Qi blinked. “I didn’t use any techniques on you, so naturally it doesn’t count as a Daoist act. I hit you because you treated me like a fool. What of it — which verse of the Classic of the Way and Virtue says a man cannot strike another? You insulted my intelligence, and I’m not allowed to hit you for it?”

Everyone: —!

Why did the Gong Clan ever let this little plague star loose into the world to torment people — can someone please come and rein him in?!

“Enough. No need to waste further words. The elders of the Enforcement Hall will determine your crimes.” Gong Qi gave a sweeping wave of his hand and looked toward Gong Si. The latter reached into his robes, produced a yellow talisman, and burned it.

Lang Jiuchuan watched the golden light of the talisman flare and surge skyward, and paused in quiet contemplation. Somehow she recognized exactly what this was — a talisman for summoning others to apprehend those who walked the wicked path. Colloquially speaking, it was calling for backup.

As expected, the moment the talisman caught flame, Wumu Daochang and the others went pale, unease stirring in their hearts.

Gong Qi was not the sort to be reasoned with — he had just finished mocking the Rong Family, falling just short of outright branding them an evil sect. Once this reached the Enforcement Hall, the Rong Family would be consumed with scrubbing off all this filth — would they still have any will left to shield these two? Yet they had only been following orders.

Huangmei Dao looked toward Lang Jiuchuan, who stood partly behind Gong Si. This woman is extraordinarily troublesome. Does the clan know?

Lang Jiuchuan sensed his gaze and turned to meet it. The moment she read the killing intent in his eyes, a storm stirred behind her own — and without warning, a trace of murderous ferocity welled up from within her, unbidden.

Wrong.

Just as Gong Qi had said — if this were truly only about standing up for Qi Xinyu, the Rong Family had absolutely no need to go this far. They were not targeting one person; they were targeting the entire Marquis Kaiping’s household. This stemmed from a private motive.

And what was that private motive? Was it to bring down the Lang Family? No — it was to bring down her.

Qi Xinyu was nothing more than the younger sister of a peripheral daughter-in-law. No matter how much the Xuan Clan valued face, no matter how fiercely they protected their own, she was not important enough to warrant sending powerful protector elders of this caliber to champion her cause.

Only Cheng Daochang — the one of middling cultivation — had come on account of genuine consideration for Qi Xinfei’s feelings. The other two behind him had never intended to stand up for anyone. Their sole aim was to kill her. Qi Xinyu had been nothing but a decoy, a shield to obscure their true purpose.

Why did the Rong Family want her dead?

Could they be the ones who murdered the original soul — the mastermind lurking in the shadows?

The murderous ferocity surged upward from within her, coalescing dangerously — on the verge of erupting.

Jiangche felt a start — the force radiating from her was almost crystallizing into something malevolent — and before he could call out a warning, Gong Qi had already noticed. He spun on his heel and stared at her, eyes wide with surprise.

The ferocity was becoming malevolence. One spark and it would all ignite.

A commotion erupted from the rooftop. Everyone looked up. Two men appeared in view — clad in dark crimson robes embroidered at the chest with the character for “Xuan” — and leaped down from the roof in a single bound.