Since Director Ou had already delivered such a gift to the Marquis of Zhenbei, the Xie family was now his mortal enemy, and he would naturally be eager to see the Xie family brought to ruin. Lang Jiuchuan therefore had no compunction in asking him directly what other sworn enemies the Xie family had, or whether there were anyone who appeared to be on opposing sides in public while secretly maintaining private dealings.

Director Ou, at this moment filled with resentment toward the Xie family, thought: since he was already dead, nothing he said here would reach another living ear, and besides, he was only speaking of the Xie family’s affairs. Without a moment’s hesitation, he spoke at length — including everything that Xie Qinghua had used Ou Sixing to accomplish — and when he had finished, he suddenly seemed to recall something.

“If this old one’s memory serves, the Marquis of Zhenbei once served on the battlefield alongside your father, as one of his subordinate generals?” Director Ou had looked into Lang Jiuchuan’s background, at least in part.

“Yes. He is the man who murdered my father.”

“Oh……” Director Ou’s eyes went wide. What?

Lang Jiuchuan said with a touch of frustration, “My original plan was to use your grandson’s love-compulsion gu affair to make something of it. I had not expected that you, sir, would act with such bold righteousness and dare to stake everything on this gamble.”

Director Ou: “……”

He looked steadily at Lang Jiuchuan and said, “This old one recalls that General Anbei’s death was attributed to wounds that proved fatal. So, then……”

“You know how your grandson came to have that love-compulsion gu — the Marquis of Zhenbei gave it to his daughter. As it happens, not long ago I captured a female shaman, who is now being kept at the Marquis of Zhenbei’s family temple. She confessed outright that the Marquis of Zhenbei obtained a pair of compulsion gus from her. As for why everyone believed my father’s death was from wounds that would not heal — it was simply because a heart-devouring gu went undetected.”

Director Ou’s expression darkened. “He actually dared to harm a loyal and worthy general? General Anbei alone is one case, and now he has also controlled an imperial physician — what is he trying to do? Does he intend to rebel? No, wait — he keeps a shaman. Beyond this heart-devouring gu and the love-compulsion gu, could there be other gus he is using to control officials?”

“That would depend on what Director Ou told the current Emperor, and what he intends to do about it.”

Director Ou had some regrets. “Had you told me of this matter earlier, this old one would certainly have added more weight to those poisoned words I planted. What a pity. Of course, if there is evidence of your birth father’s death to present to the Holy One, then the Marquis of Zhenbei is guilty of deceiving the Emperor. Harming a loyal general and deceiving the Emperor — those are both capital offenses. As matters stand, this old one only implied that the Xie family harbors disloyal ambitions. After all, the Crown Prince has not yet been established, and the Xie family has a consort in the palace who has borne an imperial son — though the Fourth Prince is being raised in Noble Consort Xian’s quarters, the Xie consort is still the Fourth Prince’s birth mother. Her fall from favor is inevitable now. At the moment, there is not yet any visible movement — I suspect the Emperor is waiting as well. Waiting for the Marquis of Zhenbei to return to the capital for his son’s wedding ceremony.”

Lang Jiuchuan and the director exchanged a look — in other words, the moment the Marquis of Zhenbei returned to the capital, he would likely be confronted with accusations. Trouble was certainly coming for him.

She could not help but feel rather pleased about that.

Lang Jiuchuan glanced at the figure standing behind Director Ou. “Sir, it is time for you to move on.”

Director Ou startled and looked back — and upon seeing it was an underworld runner, his composure wavered somewhat and his expression shifted.

That underworld runner caught sight of Lang Jiuchuan, and his own expression turned even more strained than Director Ou’s. He truly ran into her everywhere he went.

“Brother Youlai, this elderly gentleman is an acquaintance of mine — be a good escort and see him safely on his way. I will burn you a fine offering of incense when the time comes.” Lang Jiuchuan greeted the underworld runner, then turned to Director Ou. “May you have an easy journey, sir.”

Director Ou gave a nod, and obediently allowed Youlai’s soul-hooking chain to settle around him. As he followed the runner toward the ghost gate, just as the gate was nearly shut, he suddenly seemed to recall something and turned back, calling out, “Qingyi, that Daoist name of yours——”

Boom.

The ghost gate slammed firmly shut.

Director Ou was left feeling somewhat deflated. Well, never mind — perhaps it was mere coincidence. A Daoist name, after all, was not exclusive to any one person. But that little child from all those years ago, if she had grown up, would be about this same age by now, would she not?

Lang Jiuchuan had not caught what Director Ou said. Her attention had already shifted — she was watching someone who had just walked in to offer condolences, and her brow arched slightly.

Lang Zhengping noticed her focus had changed, stepped a little closer, and lowered his voice. “Were you just speaking with someone just now?”

Was it the kind of ‘person’ he was thinking of?

“Yes.” Lang Jiuchuan looked toward the man who had just entered — dressed in a dark robe, his brows and features cold and severe — and asked, “Who is that person?”

Lang Zhengping followed her gaze and said, “That is Zuo Yan of the Dingguo Duke’s residence — the marksman they call the one who can shoot a willow leaf at a hundred paces. What is it?” He thought of that last time at the Zhao family’s house, when she had spoken one sentence and jinxed the young Peng heir, and immediately tensed. “What, do not tell me he is going to die too?”

Lang Jiuchuan looked back at him. “Great-uncle, how could you have such a frightening thought?”

Lang Zhengping put on a sheepish expression. Was he supposed to say: because you have a mouth that has been specially consecrated and seems to exclusively pronounce deaths?

He looked at Zuo Yan’s striking and handsome appearance, then looked at Lang Jiuchuan’s eager gaze, and said, in a roundabout way, “He is certainly very fine-looking, but he is already married.”

Lang Jiuchuan rolled her eyes. “Go and tell him that whatever is causing his distress, I can help him resolve it. Have him come to the Wanshi Establishment and ask in person.”

Lang Zhengping: “……”

Perhaps because Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze had been too intent, Zuo Yan seemed to sense it and glanced coolly over. Seeing it was a young girl, he furrowed his thick brows and looked away without acknowledgment, heading into the mourning hall.

Lang Zhengping, seeing this, quickly stepped forward to intercept Zuo Yan just outside the mourning hall and swiftly relayed Lang Jiuchuan’s words to him.

Zuo Yan was somewhat taken aback that Lang Zhengping had approached him. After hearing the message, he looked toward Lang Jiuchuan again, his expression carrying a measure of impatience. How was it that even here at a mourning hall one encountered people seeking to build a reputation for themselves?

But then he saw Lang Jiuchuan’s lips move slightly. He could read lips, and he instantly understood what she had said. His handsome face immediately darkened, and the gaze he fixed on her carried a thin chill of anger and even a flash of killing intent.

Lang Jiuchuan, however, simply curved her lips slightly and turned to walk out from under the funeral canopy.

Whether he believed it or not was up to him.

Zuo Yan lit a stick of incense for the Director Ou, stood in silent thought for a long while, his brow refusing to unknit and his lips pressed into a hard, flat line.

For the Ou family to lose two imperial physicians at once in such an accident — he truly found it difficult to believe. What was to be done about Ning’er’s illness now?

He walked out of the mourning hall, then abruptly stopped and said in a low voice to the Ou family’s eldest master: “The young woman who was standing beside Marquis Kaiping just now — who is she?”

Marquis Kaiping’s message had made no real sense — something about whatever distress he carried being resolvable at a Wanshi Establishment in some Xunxiang Alley, that he should go himself to make the request. And that girl standing alongside him had actually dared to curse his Ning’er to die. How utterly vicious.

The Ou family’s eldest master paused, then recalled that Lang Jiuchuan had recited scriptures to guide the old patriarch through the crossing, and his expression softened a little. “That is the ninth daughter of the Lang family. Whether she has formally entered the Daoist path, I cannot say — but she can recite scriptures and conduct crossing-over rites.”

Zuo Yan’s frown deepened. A Daoist practitioner — all mystical and superstitious nonsense.

“Oh, and she also practices medicine.” The Ou family eldest master, just as Zuo Yan was about to leave, recalled that the old patriarch had once mentioned this girl’s remarkable medical skill and added, “Now that father and third nephew have both met with a sudden accident, as for your honored wife’s illness — young master may do well to go seek her out. Senior Official Zeng’s eye ailment was also treated by her.”

Zuo Yan’s steps faltered to a halt. What?