Upon returning to the Myriad Affairs Shop, Lang Jiuchuan spotted Zhuang Quanhai sweeping dust inside. The moment he saw her, he hurried forward clutching a feather duster.

“Miss.” He glanced left and right, then lowered his voice to ask, “Where is that… person?”

Lang Jiuchuan cast him a meaningful look. Zhuang Quanhai suddenly felt an bone-deep chill seep in from his side, as if a massive block of ice had materialized right beside him. The jade pendant on his chest burned so intensely that he hunched his back, while his legs trembled uncontrollably and his teeth chattered together.

“The ghost guest sends his thanks to you.” Lang Jiuchuan relayed the words on behalf of Fu Qi, then added, “Your killing aura is heavy — best not to go near him, lest he fall ill.”

Fu Qi had stepped away. Lang Jiuchuan dispersed the yin death energy clinging to Zhuang Quanhai, and the man nearly burst into tears. He clutched his feather duster tightly, casting a wary glance toward where the chill had emanated. Even a rooster-feather duster didn’t seem to ward off evil all that well.

Observing the thick, dense death energy wreathing Fu Qi’s form, Lang Jiuchuan gave it some thought and then proposed, “I intend to stamp a soul seal upon your spirit. It should help suppress your yin death energy and fierce killing aura, so that innocent bystanders are not harmed. What say you?”

Stamping a soul seal would allow her to restrain his death energy, preventing him from killing anyone on a mere whim.

Fu Qi had no objection. He was not the sort of malicious person who reveled in slaughter, and would never kill indiscriminately. But since Lang Jiuchuan and the others harbored concerns, having a restraint placed upon him was perfectly acceptable.

As for how to settle him in, Lang Jiuchuan thought of A’Piao — that spirit used a paper body to walk in the mortal world, serving as the manager of Tongtian Pavilion. Her own Myriad Affairs Shop was short a manager as well.

With bright, eager eyes, Lang Jiuchuan said, “General, since you have no wish to reincarnate just yet and intend to remain in the mortal world — if you do not think it beneath you, why not serve as manager of my Myriad Affairs Shop?”

Zhuang Quanhai stiffened and lifted his head.

Fu Qi replied, “Beneath me? Hardly. But I am merely a spirit. How am I to receive living customers on your behalf? From what this Manager Zhuang has said, it seems the shop also conducts business with the living — and besides, he looks as though he is about to cry.”

The young miss was carving out a man’s heart without a blade — doing it right in front of Zhuang Quanhai, announcing that this newcomer would replace him as manager. Was that truly wise?

Lang Jiuchuan looked toward Zhuang Quanhai. The man forcibly squeezed out a smile that looked worse than outright weeping. She then realized, somewhat belatedly, “Manager Zhuang, are you not planning to return to your hometown?”

Zhuang Quanhai immediately replied, “Going home is just about finding a meal — if I can earn enough here in Wu Jing, staying is perfectly fine. My daughter-in-law can hold off on leaving until after the child is born.”

Lang Jiuchuan, however, said, “You would accomplish far more if you returned home. Your fortune here in Wu Jing is not prosperous enough. Your five elements lack water, and the north is governed by water — returning home would strengthen your prospects considerably. There you could go into the timber trade: water nourishes wood, water represents wealth, wood represents official standing. With wealth, you could acquire land and become a family of farming scholars, and that would bring peace and prosperity. Of course, doing good deeds and treating others with kindness are equally important.”

Zhuang Quanhai had not expected her to read his fate for him. He was overcome with emotion and bowed deeply. “Many thanks to Miss for illuminating my path.”

He then rummaged through his coin pouch and produced a small sliver of silver, looking somewhat embarrassed. “This is all I have on me — a modest divination fee.”

Lang Jiuchuan did not think little of it. She accepted it and tucked it into her sleeve without ceremony, then said, “I mean no disrespect to you, Manager Zhuang. The business this shop conducts is unlike that of ordinary establishments — ghost guests are a common occurrence. For that reason, whoever keeps this shop must possess a formidable birth chart; otherwise, contact with yin energy would easily bring illness and misfortune.”

Zhuang Quanhai hurriedly replied, “This old one knows what is good for him.” He paused, then added, “Miss is a fine employer. I had hoped to secure a manager’s position here — I simply did not foresee that fate would not have it so.”

“The very fact that we met and crossed paths amid the vast sea of people is itself a bond of fate,” said Lang Jiuchuan with a faint smile. “If I ran an ordinary shop, I would certainly keep you on.”

“This old one understands.” Zhuang Quanhai then asked her to divine an auspicious day for travel, before stepping to one side.

Only then did Lang Jiuchuan turn to Fu Qi and say, “Since you are to serve as the shop’s manager, you must walk in the mortal world and meet with people — they must be able to see you. I will have a paper body custom-crafted for you to inhabit, and that will allow you to move about freely. Even so, to prevent certain daoist practitioners from detecting your true nature, you must also cultivate.”

Fu Qi was startled. “Cultivate?”

“Yes — cultivate the Ghost Path. Once your spiritual power is strong enough, you will naturally be able to conceal your true nature so that it is indistinguishable from that of the living.” Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes sparkled brightly. “I will take you to see a senior figure and ask him to teach you the method. Before that, let us first find a piece of wood to carve a spirit tablet for you — it will make it easier to offer incense and provide you a place to reside.”

Over at Tongtian Pavilion, Senior A’Piao was leaning against the door frame, watching the people passing in the street below. All of a sudden his nose twitched, and the bright sky darkened. He gave a quiet click of his tongue.

The weather is turning on a sudden — a petty troublemaker must be stirring up mischief!

Fu Qi’s fierce killing aura was severe, and Lang Jiuchuan had no intention of letting him roam freely, so she kept him stored within the Xiaojiu Pagoda. When Zhuang Quanhai heard she was looking for timber, he recommended his good friend’s lumber shop — not far away, in Yongshou Ward, Fanghui Alley.

She asked Zhuang Quanhai to watch the shop in the meantime, then set off on foot, splitting her attention to explain the current state of affairs to Fu Qi along the way.

Fu Qi reminded her, “Those two eminent scholars from before — you should still send word to tell them to stop looking into my matter, lest it attract unwanted eyes and bring trouble.”

“I had nearly forgotten about that,” Lang Jiuchuan admitted. She hesitated a moment, then asked, “Do you truly not care about having your name cleared?”

“To say I don’t care at all would be a lie. But the same words hold: the living matter more. There is no need to cause the living unrest or to invite danger and hardship over a dead man like me — that would only compound my guilt. Let it be.” Fu Qi’s tone was flat. “After the seas shift and the ages pass, how many people will even remember the Fu Family? Let alone the fact that the one who started it all has long since died.”

Lang Jiuchuan let out a long sigh.

Fu Qi said, with helpless resignation, “You are so young — what are you sighing about? Miss, remember this: there is no end to the injustice in this world, and you are no god. Your light cannot reach every dark corner. Do not force it. Do not try to take every wrong upon your own shoulders — that would do you only harm.”

Extraordinary brilliance invites injury; what is too rigid will break. Even with what little he had read, he understood that much.

“I know.”

Lang Jiuchuan cut through a nearby shortcut and arrived at Fanghui Alley in Yongshou Ward. She heard a clamor ahead — in front of a small residence, a crowd had gathered. Someone was screaming, children were crying, and an angry roar rang out.

She was not fond of other people’s gossip, yet there was no way around it. She pressed on and drew nearer, only to see a finely-dressed noblewoman sprawled in an undignified heap on the ground, a vivid red handprint blazing across her cheek.

Lang Jiuchuan looked more carefully at the woman’s face, and her eyes went wide with surprise. How had that Lady Lu — that false living bodhisattva — ended up here, and in such a state of disgrace?

Before her stood a middle-aged man with a winter cap and several deep scratches raked across his face. His expression was a mask of terror and panic. Behind him, a petite, delicate woman was huddled out of sight.

Oh ho. A clear-cut catching-in-the-act scene.

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow. Then her gaze sharpened in an instant — at the entrance on the far side, a carriage had stopped. That carriage looked very familiar. It looked very much like the carriage belonging to the Marquis’s household.