After a prolonged back-and-forth with A’Piao, Lang Jiuchuan took away some of the primary materials for making soul incense and returned to the estate with Lang Caimeng, feeling thoroughly satisfied.

A’Piao watched her leave, then looked down at the soul incense in his hand. After a moment’s thought, he went to the back hall and passed through the vermilion red door.

The door led to another realm.

A ghost general carried the soul incense into the ancient tomb. The man who sat cross-legged before the Seven-Colored Treasure Lotus soul-nurturing lamp opened his eyes and glanced at the box. Whatever came to his mind, he let out a cold snort.

“Light one,” Feng Ya commanded in a low voice.

The ghost general opened the box, took out a stick of soul incense, and lit it. Upon catching the fragrance that wafted from the incense and the golden light of its talisman power, he was somewhat surprised, and placed it before his master.

The smoke of the soul incense rose straight upward, burning rapidly.

The ghost general watched as his master’s soul form — which had been weakened from losing countless amounts of soul power — grew somewhat stronger, and he promptly lit another.

Feng Ya drew upon three sticks of soul incense in succession before stopping. He looked at the soul inside the soul lamp before him, his expression carrying a trace of resignation. “Light one in front of the soul lamp,” he said.

“Master, please keep them for your own use.”

Feng Ya’s cold gaze swept over, his expression brooking no refusal.

The ghost general had no choice but to light one and place it before the soul lamp. He cast a somewhat resentful glance at the soul form inside the lamp that had already begun to take shape, wondering — why?

“What’s the hurry? Have A’Piao give her the materials for making the incense, and this incense will naturally keep coming.” Feng Ya closed his eyes. “Go and give your instructions. Leave two sticks for him.”

The ghost general acknowledged the order and walked out with two sticks of soul incense, then turned to look back once more. He saw that their master’s soul power continued flowing endlessly into the soul lamp, and couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

A’Piao emerged from the vermilion door shortly after, staring blankly at the two sticks of soul incense left in his hands. He tried to recall what Lang Jiuchuan had said before — something about working together with her. Was it too late to change his mind?

Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey — what nonsense. Who do you think you are? Master is your life!

“Little Hanged One, go and sort through the storeroom. Take out all the fragrant nanmu wood, agarwood powder, and cinnabar — none of the inferior goods…” A’Piao summoned the hanged ghost and called out a string of instructions.

The Marquis Kaiping Estate.

Lang Caimeng called out to Lang Jiuchuan, hesitating with something to say. He held up a pearl the size of a fist — that shopkeeper surnamed A had seen him admiring it and had simply stuffed it into his hands, insisting he take it. When he tried to decline, it was of no use, and on top of that, the man hadn’t asked for silver in return.

Lang Jiuchuan gave it a glance. “Tongtian Pavilion doesn’t lack for a single night-luminescent pearl like this. Take it for Xuan’er to play with.”

Making soul incense is no easy task, either — it consumes both primordial spirit and cultivation.

She turned and returned to her courtyard with Jian Lan.

Lang Caimeng stood in the cold wind, momentarily dazed. He only raised his head to look at the falling snowflakes when a servant boy mentioned that it had begun to snow.

Who says that someone raised in a manor has shallow horizons and a small outlook? Ninth Sister is precisely the one who treats material wealth like dirt.

Lang Jiuchuan returned to her courtyard and had Jian Lan store the incense materials in the storeroom. She washed and refreshed herself, had a meal, and then first went to Shoukang Hall to pay her respects to the Old Madam.

Old Madam Lang was lucid on this rare occasion. She gazed steadily at Lang Jiuchuan for a moment, then reached out to touch her face, revealing a gentle, warm smile. “Have the lamps been lit? Your father watches over you from the heavens and will protect you.”

Lang Jiuchuan stilled for a moment, then gave a small nod.

Old Madam Lang clasped her hand and closed her eyes, her breathing soon lengthening into a peaceful slumber.

Lang Jiuchuan pulled a fur blanket from the side and draped it over the Old Madam, then looked to Nanny Wang beside her. “I’ll have Jian Lan send over some medicinal pills later — they strengthen the body. Give her one pill each day, that’s all that’s needed.”

“The Ninth Young Miss is the picture of pure filial devotion. The Old Madam knows this in her heart.”

Lang Jiuchuan drew a peace talisman from her sleeve and offered it over. “You are a fortunate woman, destined for peace and good health in your later years. This peace talisman is for your grandson — let him wear it for safe passage wherever he goes.”

Nanny Wang was momentarily startled, then took it and dipped into a bow. “This old servant is most grateful to the Ninth Young Miss for thinking of us. I’ll have the young lad come and kowtow to you in thanks later.”

Lang Jiuchuan smiled and waved it off. She then had someone announce her, and went to Lang Zhengping’s study.

The moment Lang Zhengping saw her, he set down his teacup and asked urgently, “How did you end up encountering a murder case at Huguo Temple? Are you and your mother alright? I also heard that you had a conflict with that girl from the Qi Family, and that the meditation courtyard was seized from you?”

“It was also something I brought upon myself. Fourth Miss Qi and Qi Xinyu were close, and with Qi Xinyu dead, she wanted to vent her anger on me. She forcibly seized the courtyard to humiliate me, and my mother was essentially an innocent bystander caught up in it.”

Lang Zhengping gave a light snort. “Close friends? The Qi Family would never think anything of the newly risen Qi family. What’s called ‘closeness’ between them is nothing more than that Qi girl knowing that her elder sister married into a Mystic Clan as a young mistress. Seizing the courtyard was nothing but bullying with borrowed power. It’s my fault as well — I lack the standing, and the title is still unsettled, making you and your mother suffer these humiliations.”

If only he had power and capability, would the Qi girl have dared to seize whatever she pleased? And Huguo Temple, without so much as a word, simply handed over the meditation courtyard that the Lang Family had booked long in advance — wasn’t that also a case of treating people differently based on their status?

This was the reality of social hierarchy — even the nobility was ranked in tiers.

Lang Jiuchuan said, “A mere meditation courtyard is hardly worth mentioning. As for the matter of inheriting the title, I encountered Administrator Shen at the temple. He said that he and Uncle Zhao have already petitioned the throne multiple times on our behalf. After the official seals are restored following the new year, the edict to bestow the title should come down as well.”

Lang Zhengping was delighted. “That’s also thanks to you — it’s why Shen Qinghe was willing to speak up for us.”

“However, the Lang Family’s talent has been in decline for many years, and we have already drifted to the margins. The title will likely be reduced in rank.” Lang Jiuchuan pressed her lips together slightly and said, “The Marquis Zhongyong estate has a Noble Consort in the palace. Although the death of the Fourth Miss Qi is truly no concern of ours, it won’t stop the Marquis Zhongyong household from blaming us, and with the Noble Consort adding her displeasure, the reduction in rank is nine times out of ten certain.”

Lang Zhengping waved his hand and smiled bitterly. “A reduction in rank — I had long anticipated that. You can’t be blamed for this. It’s we men of the family who have been useless, unable to safeguard the foundations our ancestors built.”

“It’s not too late to come to one’s senses now.” Lang Jiuchuan said, “With the mourning period upon us, and so many brothers in the family, they can study both the civil and military arts together. Surely not all of them would be unfit to show the world. If truly none show talent, then those of the right age should hurry to marry and have children, and raise the next generation properly. As long as one among them proves capable, the title can be regained. And if a truly exceptional talent emerges — holding two titles within a single household is not impossible.”

Lang Zhengping’s lips twitched. “What kind of sesame seeds are you sprinkling on this flatbread to make it smell so enticing? Whether we can even chew through it — that’s another matter.”

And furthermore — a young girl like her, talking about marriage and children as casually as if she were describing a hen laying eggs. She said it without even a trace of a blush.

Still, she did have a point. For those without ability, getting married and starting a family first was still a way forward — with more descendants, cultivating even one capable person would be something to lean on.

Speaking of descendants, Lang Zhengping’s thoughts turned to the matter of an adopted heir for the Second Branch. He glanced at her, wanting to say something but holding back.

Lang Jiuchuan caught his expression. “If you have something to say, feel free to say it.”

Lang Zhengping said, “First of all, it is not that I, as your eldest uncle, have my eye on anything, nor do I look down on anyone — I absolutely have no such thoughts whatsoever…”

“You’re rambling. Get to the point.” Lang Jiuchuan cut him off. She was very busy.

Lang Zhengping choked, then sheepishly smoothed his beard. “Then I’ll treat you as the head of the Second Branch and speak plainly. It’s about the matter of adopting an heir for your Second Branch — how do you think it should be handled?”