To save oneself, one must first purge the household!

A single short sentence, thunderous enough to rattle the bones. Director Ou dropped into his chair with a thud, his complexion ashen, his lips trembling without cease. What she was pointing at with those words had already become abundantly clear.

When she had read his son’s birth chart, she had not said a single word. But when it came to his grandson, she declared that the household must be purged.

Which meant that the catastrophe threatening to annihilate the Ou family had originated with this grandson — Ou Sixing — the one he was most proud of, the one he held in highest regard, the one with the most talent to carry on his legacy.

Director Ou’s eyelids trembled without stopping. He wanted to say something, yet could not produce a single word.

“This fate — the day master is Xin Metal, seated upon the partial wealth of Mao Wood by nature, with the Peach Blossom star flourishing. There is no such thing as late marriage for him. Yet his monthly stem has Ding Fire breaking through as the Seven Killers, and the hour pillar further encounters the Rob Wealth carrying the killing star. This is the Peach Blossom meeting the blade — in other words, his fate is cursed by the Seductive Killing Star. In our Daoist terminology, we call this the Red Blossom Calamity, or the Peach Blossom Curse.” Lang Jiuchuan’s fingertip lightly tapped against the birth chart name slip as she spoke with cold indifference. “Your grandson is fated to be claimed by this calamity. The disasters wrought by women will entangle and implicate the entire household. That is why I said he has fallen deeply in love with someone, willing to sink into the cursed calamity for that person’s sake. He serves as a physician in the Imperial Medical Bureau. As for who this woman might be, I trust that you already have some idea, sir.”

Director Ou pressed his lips tightly together. He wanted to say it was impossible — that grandson of his was upright and proper in conduct. If he truly loved someone with a sincere heart, he would pour every effort into pursuing her. How could it have come to such a result of longing without attainment?

That longing without attainment had only one possibility: the person was already another man’s wife. And for such a massive catastrophe to be stirred up, that person must be of extraordinary standing. As for who he could have come into contact with…

Director Ou did not know what thought had crossed his mind, but his complexion grew increasingly ghastly. He had arrived at a certain possibility, and his aged body began to tremble faintly without his will.

Seeing him in such a state, Lang Jiuchuan lowered her eyes, her gaze settling upon that birth chart. Her fingers could not help but move again. The feeling this birth chart gave her was somewhat peculiar — it was plainly cursed by the Red Blossom Calamity, yet when she examined the flowing years and major cycles, it should not have been enough to implicate the entire household. So how had the reading come out this way?

It would be best to see the person in the flesh.

But she had already made her point. If Director Ou truly wished to preserve the household, as long as his mind had not gone soft with old age, he would know what needed to be done. If he turned out to be a madman, then everything was simply fate — she could not involve herself in the cause and effect.

“Little Daoist friend, is what you have said the truth?” Director Ou, refusing to accept it, fixed his gaze on Lang Jiuchuan and asked.

“Physiognomy and fortune-telling — believe it and it holds power. If you don’t believe…” Lang Jiuchuan replied, “…that is also up to you. Whether or not he has been wrongly accused, Director Ou has lived this long — how many things have truly escaped your discerning eye? A single inquiry will reveal all.”

Director Ou smiled bitterly. “This old man understands.”

He drew from within his sleeve robe a red envelope that had been prepared in advance and handed it to Lang Jiuchuan. “Many thanks to this little Daoist friend for showing me the path through the maze.”

Lang Jiuchuan accepted it and walked him all the way out of Wanshi Shop. The Ou family’s old manservant had been waiting the entire time. Director Ou’s steps were somewhat unsteady. He turned his head, wanting to say something more to her, but upon meeting those clear, bright eyes of hers, the words caught in his throat. There was nothing more to be said — she had already pointed out everything that needed to be pointed out.

Lang Jiuchuan suddenly looked toward the entrance of the alley. Someone was walking toward them against the light, and at the same moment, she also spotted a thread — a karmic thread — slowly stretching its way toward her.

A karmic thread.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes darkened. She and this person — were actually connected by a faint thread of cause and effect. Who was he?

When he drew closer, Lang Jiuchuan knew who he was: the grandson of Director Ou, the one whose fate was cursed by the Red Blossom Calamity — for she could see the bloodline bond tying the two men together.

Director Ou also caught sight of his beloved grandson, but unlike the delight of ordinary days, what replaced it was grief, fury, and the look of someone who could not bear to see iron fail to become steel.

How could he dare — how could this child dare!

He had been brought up beside his own side from a young age, taught personally, and far more care and effort had been poured into him than into any other grandchild or descendant. The family had always complained of favoritism, but if there were others more gifted, his heart could be swayed in that direction too. In truth, was there anyone who could match Sixing’s born seven-aperture brilliant mind, who learned everything quickly?

There was not.

Precisely because of this, he had cultivated Sixing as his successor. The child had not let him down — his medical skill had already surpassed his peers by a wide margin. In fact, that matter of Zeng Jichuan’s eye condition — had he not intervened, Ou Sixing would have wanted to perform the golden needle cataract procedure for Zeng Jichuan as well.

It was he who had worried the boy was too young and impulsive, and moreover had never performed such a procedure before. Fearing that a trembling hand would blind Zeng Jichuan instead, and that if the Zeng family pursued the matter the Ou family would not be able to bear the accountability — it was for that reason he had not allowed him to proceed.

But had Ou Sixing, without his knowledge, already dragged the Ou family into a treacherous quagmire?

How could he be so foolish!

Director Ou, overwhelmed in an instant by agitation, felt his chest heaving urgently, his blood surging from the soles of his feet straight up to the crown of his head. His mind felt struck and numbed as if by lightning, his vision darkening before him — and he toppled backward.

“Master!” The old manservant cried out in alarm.

Ou Sixing had not yet reached them, but he too saw his grandfather falling backward, and was so frightened that he broke into a sprint.

Yet a remarkable scene unfolded — though Director Ou fell backward, he did not actually go down. It was as if someone behind him had braced and steadied him.

It was Lang Jiuchuan who had acted.

She had channeled a thread of yin energy behind him to prop him up, and at the same time took a swift step forward to examine his complexion. With one hand she seized his wrist, drew out a silver needle, and pressed it into his middle finger, squeezing out a small bead of blood.

Ou Sixing had already come running over. Seeing this scene, his pupils contracted sharply. This was the emergency treatment for stroke — he looked at his grandfather’s face, blood surging in reverse, and pressed his fingers to his wrist to read the pulse. It had been triggered by a rush of fury and anger driving phlegm and fire upward.

He too drew silver needles from his waist and joined Lang Jiuchuan in letting blood from the remaining fingers.

Lang Jiuchuan swept a glance, then produced a small porcelain vial, tipped out a medicinal pill, and moved to place it in Director Ou’s mouth — only to be blocked by Ou Sixing.

“What medicine is this?”

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow. “Something that saves lives. If you don’t want it, forget it.”

Ou Sixing furrowed his brow.

“Give it to him.” Director Ou’s throat rasped with a rattling sound as he fixed his gaze on Lang Jiuchuan, his eyes carrying something pleading. He could not collapse yet — even in death, he could not die now. If he did, he would die with his eyes open in grievance!

Lang Jiuchuan let out a quiet sigh, placed the medicine in his mouth, and added, “Don’t rush to leave. Rest for a moment first.”

The old manservant quickly helped lift Director Ou and carried him back into the shop. Ou Sixing glanced up at the signboard of Wanshi Shop, his brow creasing tightly, but he followed them inside nonetheless.

The moment he stepped over the threshold of Wanshi Shop, the wind chime hanging beneath the eaves — the omen-reading chime — began to ring.

Ou Sixing was startled. He turned to look at the chime ringing without any wind, and his normally gentle, mild expression shifted into one of irritability. A restless, unsettled feeling rose from within him, and his entire body felt uncomfortable and ill at ease — he desperately wanted to flee this place.

But his grandfather’s condition was not well.

Ou Sixing turned — and found himself face to face with Lang Jiuchuan. He instinctively retreated several steps, maintaining his distance, and a flicker of revulsion crossed his features, which he forcibly suppressed.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at him, her eyes deep as a still, dark pool. “May I read your pulse?”

Meeting those eyes of hers, Ou Sixing felt the back of his neck go numb all at once, and a layer of goosebumps rose across his skin.