In all his years, Zeng Jichuan could say with confidence that he had never seen a woman dare to issue open threats to his face. And this was a girl who had not yet come of age — yet she was more audacious and bold than any of his own children and grandchildren, and utterly self-assured in her arrogance.

Someone like this was either conceited, rebellious, or truly possessed of extraordinary ability.

She dared to say it — and she dared to do it.

Zeng Jichuan looked steadily at Lang Jiuchuan and said, “You are a mere young girl, and yet you dare to make open threats in the presence of two officials. Are you truly unafraid of bringing disaster upon yourself?”

“Of course I am afraid,” Lang Jiuchuan replied with a light smile. “Which is precisely why I am stating things clearly in advance — better to discuss everything beforehand than to come to blows at the slightest disagreement. That would not be good for anyone, would it? I open my doors for business and am hoping for harmonious relations that bring prosperity.”

Speak softly first, and with force afterward — even without proper upbringing, she knew that much.

“And yet,” Zeng Jichuan said, “I see not the slightest trace of fear on you — not even a pretense of it. What is your backing? The Daoist school? Or some mystical clan?”

Lang Jiuchuan shook her head. “I am not affiliated with any mystical clan. What I rely upon has always been what I myself have learned — Daoist mystical arts, yes. Shen, my lord, you need not have heard that.” She glanced at Shen Qinghe briefly, then continued: “But I am a person who distinguishes right from wrong clearly. I keep account of merits and faults. I would never use what I know to do harm to ordinary people, and so I do not fear your surveillance. But if someone moves against me first — that is an entirely different matter.”

Shen Qinghe extended a finger and pointed it loosely at her. “And yet you say this right in front of the newly appointed Chief Surveillance Commissioner. You truly are remarkably bold.”

Lang Jiuchuan picked up her tea and took a sip, smiling faintly. “It is not as though I would stand still with my face turned up to be struck when someone comes at me. Leave aside what members of the Daoist school would do — even in your world of officialdom, the struggle for power against political enemies — is it not the same? One wrong step and the entire family is finished.”

The two men fell silent.

“So surveillance is surveillance — but one cannot only permit the official to set fires while forbidding the common people to light lamps.”

Shen Qinghe let out a laugh and glanced at Zeng Jichuan. “I cannot argue with this girl. You handle her yourself.”

Zeng Jichuan shook his head slightly. “It was only words. If this Golden Needle Removal Technique truly failed, I would not have the face to blame the physician for it — am I not simply unable to make up my mind at present? In truth, it is merely that my heart is unwilling to accept it.”

“Lord Zeng is overthinking matters,” Lang Jiuchuan said. “This is indeed a gamble — but you have no way out regardless, do you? If you do not undergo the golden needle procedure, you will go blind sooner or later. Given that, why not throw caution to the wind and try? How much worse can it possibly get?”

“Well said.” Zeng Jichuan looked at her. “You practice Daoist mystical arts — how is it that you also know medicine?”

“The Daoist school has always encompassed five arts, and medicine is among them. Why else would Daoist practitioners engage in alchemy? Without medicine, how would one formulate pills?” Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze drifted slightly. “As for how I came to know it in addition — I suppose one might call it the talent of a rare genius? You ask me how I know, and I simply do — that is all there is to it.”

She looked down at her own hands — slender and smooth — knowing they could do so many things.

Zeng Jichuan was silent for a moment, then said: “Can you truly treat it? I have heard that the Golden Needle Technique demands considerable expenditure of one’s vital energy and focus, precisely because it involves needling the eye itself.”

“No matter how much vital energy it demands, is it more taxing than drawing mystical talismans in the Daoist school?” Lang Jiuchuan replied. “Your eyes developed this inner obstruction so early for one reason: after the great ordeal you suffered in the past, your blood and vital energy were severely depleted and never properly replenished. After recovering from that injury, you were young and did not take it seriously. By the time your body had grown weak and you tried to replenish it, your system could no longer absorb nourishment properly — it was like pouring good things into a bottomless pit. No matter how much you consumed, the vital energy could never be restored.”

“Vital essence is the most fundamental energy in the human body. Once depleted, no matter how young you were, you could never be as vigorous as someone who had remained whole,” Lang Jiuchuan continued, glancing at the part of his face corresponding to the fortunes of offspring. “You have not only depleted your vital essence — your spleen and kidneys are both deficient. I expect you suffer from weakness and soreness of the lower back and knees, and from poor sleep plagued by many dreams, do you not? This is also why your children are few. Your body simply deteriorated too severely, and there was nothing to be done. The eyes likewise developed their inner obstruction prematurely. This is why elders always say: do not take harm lightly simply because the body is young. By the time age catches up with you, regret is too late. You, my lord, are precisely one of those who would not listen.”

Zeng Jichuan’s face turned green.

Was this not saying he was no longer capable?

He was only just past fifty!

He looked toward Shen Qinghe. His old friend had adopted an expression of studied fascination with the ceiling beams overhead, as though there were paintings carved into them — every inch of him radiating a I heard absolutely nothing sort of look. Had it not been for that telltale curl at the corner of his mouth, Zeng Jichuan might almost have believed him.

Zeng Jichuan looked back at Lang Jiuchuan with some exasperation. How could she, a young girl, speak of absolutely anything without the slightest hesitation?

And she spoke entirely correctly. At his age, he had not only a wife but two concubines — yet by the time he had reached his years, he had managed to father only one legitimate son. That son had been born before the life-threatening ordeal he had suffered. After that, no more children ever came. Fortunately, it had been a son, and a capable one at that. Zeng Jichuan’s own lineage was thin, but his son more than compensated — his grandchildren were numerous. He now had four grandsons and three granddaughters.

Lang Jiuchuan asked him to extend his hand. She placed two fingers upon his wrist to take his pulse, then switched to the other hand after a moment. She raised her gaze and said, “You also have deficient kidney yang, and a depletion of kidney essence—”

Cough, cough, cough.

Zeng Jichuan abruptly withdrew his hand, his expression composed with deliberate severity. “That is enough. Just tell me — when can we perform this Golden Needle Cataract Removal Technique?”

Good heavens, please, no more. If she continued, what remained of his dignity would be entirely stripped away before Shen Qinghe.

“I do not have the specialized needles required for the Golden Needle Removal Technique here,” Lang Jiuchuan said. “They will need to be custom-made. In the meantime, I will write you a prescription to help regulate your constitution over the next ten days. We will strengthen your foundation, cultivate your essence, and nourish your vital blood. By the time we perform the procedure, there will be a greater margin of success — a stronger body ensures everything goes more smoothly. As for the materials needed during and after the procedure, I will also need to prepare those.”

Zeng Jichuan said, “Then I will have someone procure the set of golden needle instruments for you.”

“That could not be better.” Lang Jiuchuan retrieved the four treasures of the study, considered his pulse from a moment ago, asked about his old injuries, observed the color of his complexion, and pondered briefly before lifting her brush to write the prescription.

When the prescription was complete, she passed it to him. She then rummaged through her pocket and produced a protective talisman, handing it over along with the prescription. “The Yin-Yang Eye will remain open for three days. During that time your vital fortune will be diminished, and you will see various dark entities. This talisman is of my own drawing. Keep it on your person, and they will not dare approach.”

Zeng Jichuan accepted it with composure. “My thanks. Then I will regulate my constitution according to the prescription, and return in ten days to treat these eyes?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. “If you change your mind and decide not to proceed, there is no need to come back. Out of consideration for Lord Shen, I will waive the consultation fee. Consider it forging a good connection with you.”

She knew these men were cautious by nature. They would certainly conduct their own investigations before reaching a decision. She did not mind. If he came to her door, she would treat him. If he did not — that too was entirely his own choice.

Zeng Jichuan raised an eyebrow and said teasingly, “And if I do come for the procedure and it fails — what if I decide to make trouble for you, old man that I am?”

Lang Jiuchuan met his gaze, a smile spreading across her face that said plainly: I am not someone to be trifled with. “Then you are most welcome to try, my lord.”