The Ridge of Fate-Seizing.

Cong Bian’s soul floated in the void, his spirit form unstable and translucent. He gazed at the corpse lying in the cave — the body that had already lost all breath — and his eyes nearly split at the corners with rage.

Even though he had always known that this grotesquely aged body would eventually have to be discarded, this was not the time, and certainly not in such a humiliating manner.

Who, exactly, had forced him into this situation — compelled him to abandon his physical body just to preserve his primordial soul? And how had they managed to do it?

Cong Bian’s resentment surged skyward. He longed to tear their flesh and drink their blood to vent the fury in his heart.

Yet now was not the time to settle scores. His divine soul had suffered a severe backlash from the earth’s core energy, leaving it gravely damaged — he needed to repair it as quickly as possible and find a physical body to inhabit. Otherwise, if he simply continued to deteriorate like this, he would either be devoured by other wandering spirits as a rootless ghost, or his soul would shatter completely and disperse into nothingness.

Neither outcome was acceptable.

His time was short. He would keep this grudge in mind and wait for another day.

Cong Bian drifted weakly out of the cave, enduring the agonizing pain of his wounded divine soul, and made his way to Death-Seizing Valley.

The valley was shaped like a concave bowl — like an enormous sunken basin — and at the center of that basin was a circular burial chamber that had already been broken open, revealing a stone coffin inside, also pried apart.

Around the burial chamber, dense white bones were scattered everywhere. Ghost-fires flickered and danced upon the bones in clusters, as though one had descended into the depths of the underworld.

An extreme, ink-thick miasma of yin-dark sinister energy filled the interior of that great basin, so dense it overflowed over the rim and drifted outward.

Cong Bian floated into Death-Seizing Valley and plunged himself in. If he did not want his divine soul to be completely ruined, he had no choice but to absorb this sinister yin energy to nourish his soul — only then could he possess a new body and be reborn.

Huguo Temple.

A’Piao did not enter. He was merely an ordinary old ghost, and toward a place of Buddhist sanctuary such as this — one that enshrined the divine and the sacred — he still harbored a measure of reverence. He only escorted Lang Jiuchuan as far as the rear of the mountain before taking his leave.

Lang Jiuchuan did not make things difficult for him, and made her own way toward the Buddhist temple, one step shallow, one step deep across the uneven ground. Once she entered the temple, she eagerly summoned a young novice monk and asked him about Gong Qi’s whereabouts, requesting to be led to him.

Gong Qi had been sent here to investigate the movements of Princess Zhao’an and her companions on the day they had visited the temple. He had even prevailed upon the abbot to come out in person, questioning every monk in the temple as well as the lay devotees who resided there long-term to pray — and had finally obtained a piece of news that was both ordinary and disappointing.

It turned out that Princess Zhao’an, now close to her delivery date, had experienced some instability in her pregnancy. So before the new year she had moved into Huguo Temple, seeking the Buddha’s protection to stabilize the pregnancy and ensure a safe birth. Even on the first day of the new year, it was she who had lit the first incense stick, praying for Heaven’s benevolence and the protection of the divine and the Buddha for the child in her womb to be born safely into this world.

Gong Qi’s instincts told him this couldn’t be so simple — how could it be? To take such enormous risks, and come all the way to Huguo Temple to offer incense and pray for divine grace? He didn’t believe it.

But he hadn’t uncovered anything else. He clearly felt that something was wrong, yet couldn’t identify what was wrong — which left him feeling somewhat dejected and defeated. How was he going to explain this to Lang Jiuchuan?

“Gong Qi.”

Gong Qi’s whole body stiffened. He turned around and saw Lang Jiuchuan walking toward him alongside the young novice monk, and immediately his face fell into a look of suffering. The very thing he feared most had come to pass.

“How did you get here? Weren’t you at the Cong Family ancestral hall?” And she had arrived so quickly.

“What’s that expression on your face?” Lang Jiuchuan answered his question with one of her own, looked him up and down, then asked: “Have you found anything?”

Whether he stuck his neck out or pulled it back, it was all the same blade waiting for him. Either way it was death — he might as well go for it.

Gong Qi shook his head and said: “I’m not sure whether this even counts as information. It doesn’t seem to be of much use.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Seeing that her expression remained calm, Gong Qi felt his own heart settle somewhat. He relayed everything the monks had told him, and when he finished, said: “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to be of help.”

Lang Jiuchuan looked at the dark circles under his eyes and shook her head slightly. “There’s no need to belittle yourself. Our investigation into this was also to avoid missing something. If we find something, that’s good; if we don’t, it doesn’t matter. When faced with absolute strength, all schemes and machinations are paper tigers — we just press forward and be done with it.”

The tension in Gong Qi’s face eased slightly.

“Based on what you’ve said, it’s not necessarily untrue either. If we reason it out following our earlier hypothesis, the child in the Princess’s womb is actually Cong Bian’s offspring — it would be perfectly normal for the pregnancy to be unstable.” Lang Jiuchuan saw the puzzlement on his face and explained: “That old ancestor of the Cong Family is already very advanced in age, and with such a body, to impregnate a woman — his vital essence would certainly not be as strong and robust as that of a young man’s. If he has been cultivating sinister and deviant arts all these years, his constitution would be even more yin in nature. Whether a child is robust or not is also related to the parents’ constitution — those who are weak and yin-cold in nature tend to produce pregnancies with signs of instability, which is quite common, and such children are often born with deficiencies.”

Gong Qi wore an odd expression and said: “For someone your age, you really do know quite a lot.”

“But you’re right that it seems a stretch to say they took such great risks just to ensure a safe birth — that really is somewhat forced. However, we can’t afford to concern ourselves with that right now. There’s something more important I need your help with. Have your people search through the meditation quarters where Princess Zhao’an has been staying and see if they can find anything. And as for you — please help arrange an introduction to the abbot of Huguo Temple.”

“What’s happened?”

“I made a major discovery at the Cong Family ancestral hall, and I also foiled that old dog of the Cong Family’s plans.” Lang Jiuchuan summarized in a few brief words what she had uncovered and what she had done.

Gong Qi’s hair stood on end. In a grave voice, he said: “That old dog — to have conceived of something so deviously clever… what breathtaking audacity.”

What a pity. A hundred years of planning, and just as the high tower was almost finished, someone had come and destroyed half its foundation. If he were that old dog, he’d surely be coughing up blood by the mouthful, wouldn’t he?

Lang Jiuchuan said: “No matter how carefully one schemes, one cannot outscheme Heaven’s decree.”

No matter how meticulously one planned every last detail, it was no match for Heaven’s appointed fate — which had allowed her to perceive the one gap hidden among a hundred layers of precaution.

Gong Qi carefully turned her words over in his mind. A sudden flash of insight struck him, and he said: “You suspect that Princess Zhao’an and the others, in taking such great risks to come to this temple, were doing the same thing as what that old dog of the Cong Family plotted — scheming to draw upon this temple’s accumulated merit and incense offerings?”

For some unknown reason, upon hearing these words, Lang Jiuchuan felt a rare and inexplicable pang of self-consciousness — as though he were actually talking about her.

Jiangche laughed aloud within her spiritual consciousness. Of course she’d feel self-conscious — she was one of those who had helped herself to the incense offerings, after all.

Lang Jiuchuan spoke vaguely: “Well, not exactly — it’s more that, you know, investigating it won’t hurt. Right now the most important thing is to seize that old dog Cong’s soul, and quickly. If we delay, there may be yet more complications.”

Gong Qi immediately called over a monk and instructed him to lead a group to search through the meditation quarters where Princess Zhao’an had been staying, saying: “Even if you have to dig three feet into the ground, inspect carefully. This is also for the sake of Huguo Temple’s feng shui — if there is anything offending, I will personally make a formal apology to the abbot and to the Buddha, and I will donate generous lamp oil funds to rebuild any damaged quarters.”

The monk acknowledged the order and departed.

Gong Qi then led Lang Jiuchuan to see the abbot. Unexpectedly, when they arrived at the abbot’s meditation quarters, the other man was already standing at the doorway, as though he had long been waiting for someone to come — and he looked directly toward Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan met his gaze, her steps faltering for just a brief moment, before she advanced without hesitation.

“Amitabha. Female patron — for what purpose have you come?” Abbot Xuanneng pressed his palms together, recited a Buddhist invocation as he looked at Lang Jiuchuan, and bowed his body slightly.

Lang Jiuchuan returned the courtesy with a bow, and said: “This devotee comes for the sake of all living beings. I wonder whether the abbot might spare a measure of compassion — to guide a wronged soul, to quell an evil disruption, and to show mercy to the suffering people of this world?”

Abbot Xuanneng held her gaze, and replied: “Amitabha. This old monk will do his utmost.”