As Zeng Jichuan and Shen Qinghe stepped out of Wanshi Shop and made their way through the alley, Zeng Jichuan could contain himself no longer. He fixed his gaze on the man beside him, his expression darkening, and said: “If you want to laugh, then laugh. Force it down much longer and you’ll end up with deficient blood yourself.”

Shen Qinghe immediately burst out laughing, bending double and pointing at him, utterly incapable of producing a single word.

Zeng Jichuan’s expression grew darker by the second — then, just as quickly, it cleared. He had done nothing improper to bring about the depletion of his vital essence. It had come entirely from an enemy’s underhanded blow that had damaged his foundation beyond repair.

Every ailment on his body was a mark of honor. Hmph!

Yet when he recalled how that little girl had described his physical condition without a trace of embarrassment, his old face still burned.

An ordinary physician would never have made him feel ashamed. But this was a girl who had not yet come of age, speaking with such boldness and thick skin. Were those who walked the path of the Dao simply meant to be this unrestrained?

But truth be told, even if Lang Jiuchuan’s blunt words had shamed him, they had also set his heart at ease. It proved she was not speaking nonsense — that she genuinely had something to offer.

She was so remarkably young.

Zeng Jichuan ran his fingers over the prescription tucked inside his sleeve. He had agreed to proceed, but he would still investigate.

The carriage drew to a halt before them. Zeng Jichuan boarded first, and Shen Qinghe followed, a smile still lingering on his face. “Do not hold it against the girl. I have not known her long, but she is sincere and genuine — and truly capable. Compared to those members of the mystical clans who keep their noses in the air, she is a great deal better.”

Zeng Jichuan glanced at him sideways. “Since I have already decided to let her treat these eyes of mine, how could I afford to hold anything against her? I would sooner set her up as an honored guest. That was none of your concern.”

Shen Qinghe smiled awkwardly. “I only feared you might be so embarrassed that you’d lose your temper. After all, she did strike a rather tender spot.”

Zeng Jichuan delivered a kick in his direction. “Get out of here.” Then, as though something had occurred to him, he added: “My lineage may be thin — but my son is capable, and he has given me seven grandchildren. And you? You haven’t even had the bride’s tea yet!”

Shen Qinghe: “!”

There was no call to attack a man like that!

Zeng Jichuan laughed coldly. Come then — let us wound each other equally.

He lifted the carriage curtain and looked out — and came face to face with a massive, flat face staring back at him. He froze, his hand going rigid.

Outside the carriage, dangling from the carriage roof, was a spirit bearing an enormous festering sore on its face. It had been greedily inhaling the scent of a sachet hanging there — the finest sandalwood. But it had not anticipated the curtain being pulled aside, and it suddenly found itself eye to eye with Zeng Jichuan.

The flat-faced spirit blanched, let out a horrified wail, and fled far into the distance. The official’s aura of authority was terribly heavy.

Zeng Jichuan sat frozen.

“What is it?” Shen Qinghe noticed his expression and could not help asking.

Zeng Jichuan reached with trembling hands for his teacup. “Nothing.”

Shen Qinghe had spent years solving cases at the Court of Judicial Review. One look at his old friend’s state, combined with the memory of what Lang Jiuchuan had said — that the Yin-Yang Eye perceives both living and dead — and understanding came at once. His expression turned one of lively curiosity. “Well — did you see a ghost?”

Zeng Jichuan’s hand gave another tremor. He forced an air of calm. “I did. It was nothing remarkable.”

Shen Qinghe snorted. If your hand weren’t shaking, perhaps I’d believe the act.

“Do not let the protective talisman leave your person,” Shen Qinghe reminded him. “When your vital fortune is low, you will keep encountering things. Some of the bolder spirits may even try to possess you. But as long as you carry the talisman, they will be the ones cowering before you. Oh — Little Nine also mentioned that official seals carry their own righteous energy, which serves as its own kind of protection. Keeping yours on your person will help.”

Zeng Jichuan’s heart went cold. He nodded. The spirit from just now had been more afraid of him than he of it.

Shen Qinghe quickly disembarked — he had other matters to attend to — and Zeng Jichuan let out a long breath, leaning back against the carriage wall with his eyes shut, one hand pressed to his chest. That one moment had given him a genuine fright.

He reached up and touched the space between his brows, and a wry smile came to his lips. The Yin-Yang Eye — so this was what it was like.

Upon returning to the Zeng Household, he summoned his trusted household steward and the household physician. He had the physician examine Lang Jiuchuan’s prescription first, then sent the steward to investigate Lang Jiuchuan’s background.

The steward withdrew to carry out his task.

The household physician had served Zeng Jichuan for many years. He took the prescription with undisguised excitement. “My lord, where did this prescription come from? It is an excellent one — the medicines are bold and costly in choice, and yet the combination is precisely suited to your current needs.”

Zeng Jichuan said, “Then have the medicine prepared according to this prescription and see that I take it over the next several days. In addition, go to the Ou Household and ask Chief Imperial Physician Ou for a diagram of the instruments used in the Golden Needle Removal Technique. Have a new set made from the finest materials.”

The physician looked up in surprise. “My lord has found someone capable of performing the golden needle procedure?” He glanced again at the prescription in his hand. “Is it the person who wrote this?”

Seeing Zeng Jichuan nod, the physician asked who it was.

Zeng Jichuan found it somewhat difficult to put into words. “You may not believe me when I hear it.”

“…?”

“A young girl who looks thoroughly unimpressive. One who practices the Daoist mystical arts.”

The household physician stared in silence.

Has my lord been driven half-mad by this affliction of his eyes? Is that why he has suddenly developed a reckless kind of courage, ready to throw caution to the wind?

Zeng Jichuan might well have thought himself a little mad — but when he saw the vivid colors of the world around him through his Yin-Yang Eye, he was consumed by a desperate hunger for it. He was not willing — he could not bear — to lose his sight of this world and all its things.

If he truly went blind, he could simply hire various Daoist practitioners to open the Yin-Yang Eye for him — that ought to work, would it not?

Had any member of the Daoist school heard this thought, they would have gone dark in the face. Opening the Yin-Yang Eye and the Heavenly Eye — did he think it was something one could just do on a whim? It required sustaining too, and was it as simple as pinching a quick technique? Even just opening a Yin Eye was highly draining on one’s spiritual power, and there was no guarantee of success.

That same evening, Zeng Jichuan received from his trusted steward the background information they had gathered on Lang Jiuchuan. He first looked over the general information on the Lang Family, then turned his attention specifically to Lang Jiuchuan.

The steward explained at his side: the ninth young lady had been raised at the family’s manor estate. In the beginning, when the old matriarch was there to keep her company, things had been manageable enough. But from around the age of eleven or twelve, she had been left entirely to her own devices. The servants at the manor had not paid her much mind, and what she had studied or learned there, none of the manor staff could say with any clarity.

In other words, how she had come by all these skills — and from whom she had learned them — was a complete mystery. Beyond herself, no one could say.

The steward added, “It is said she often visited the manor estate next door — the one that is part of the dowry lands of the Princess Huicheng, where a young lady of that household has been recuperating. The ninth young lady of the Lang Family became her playmate. This old servant wonders whether the visits were merely a pretext, and she was in truth learning Daoist mystical arts from some wandering practitioner who had taken up residence there.”

Zeng Jichuan turned this over in his mind. It was not impossible. Otherwise, how had this young girl come to know all this — surely she had not simply unblocked her own meridians and taught herself from nothing?

And as a daughter of the noble Lang Household — a family with ties to a marquisate — if she had taken up such studies, she would certainly have been subject to gossip had she been found out. Studying in secret was entirely plausible.

“If that is the case, then she is a natural genius with innate aptitude for the Dao.” Zeng Jichuan murmured to himself, fingers touching the space between his brows.

If she were not a genius, how could someone her age have reached such a level?

“Have someone send a cartload of medicinal herbs to Wanshi Shop,” Zeng Jichuan instructed the steward. “Send someone sharp-witted along, and have them wait on her instructions and assist accordingly. As for the golden needle instruments, I have already spoken to Physician Qi — stay close to that matter and make sure everything is properly handled.”

The trusted steward hesitated and asked, “My lord — shall we not look further into other renowned physicians?”

Zeng Jichuan shook his head. “Enough of that. The longer I wait, the more this position of mine cannot afford to wait. There are no shortage of people who hope to see me go blind. Since I have encountered her, it is fate. As she herself said — how much worse can it possibly get?”