What would be the point of saving revenge for later? Of course, you strike immediately — where’s the satisfaction otherwise? The enemy suffers, you feel exhilarated. This was one of Lang Jiuchuan’s preferred methods of making herself happy.

Ruthless? She simply had no heart.

After withdrawing the golden needles from Cui Shi’s body, Lang Jiuchuan probed again for the presence of yin-sha energy within her — it had already dissipated. Yet seeing the pallor of Cui Shi’s complexion, she couldn’t suppress the cold severity in her eyes.

Cui Shi had a heart condition. Had Lang Jiuchuan’s talisman not shielded her from one calamity, and had the Venerable Xuanguang not recited the Vajra Mantra to suppress some of the yin-sha, those vicious malefic energies would have penetrated her very heart — she likely wouldn’t have survived.

Lang Jiuchuan held no particular affection for Cui Shi, but that didn’t mean she would tolerate others dragging people around her into trouble out of misplaced spite.

Lu You’an had been so brazen about it precisely because he assumed the Lang Family was just an ordinary noble household — while he himself was affiliated with the Rong Family, and his biological father was a monk from Huguo Temple, born of the Tantai clan.

Hah. The identity of someone from the Xuan sect?

When real power is the measure, what does it matter how many prestigious titles one stacks atop another? I’ll kill you first and sort out the rest later.

Lang Jiuchuan listened serenely to the screams outside, calmly laying out several talismans in a row. She then took a sheet of white paper and wrote out a prescription, handing it to Nanny Cheng: “Have this prescription filled for the Madam. She should take it for half a month. On days when the sun is out, let her sit in the sunlight for a while to replenish her yang energy. The same goes for all of you who are in her service — it will help dispel the yin energy.”

She pointed to the row of talismans she had arranged. “These are also sha-dispelling safety talismans. Take them and distribute them among the others. After all, you were all present in the room just now and have been touched by some yin energy. If it isn’t cleared away, those with weaker constitutions may fall ill for a few days.”

Nanny Cheng hastily agreed, then asked, “And the Madam herself?”

Lang Jiuchuan glanced at Cui Shi, who remained unconscious, and replied, “The yin-sha energy on her has been removed. She simply needs rest in the days to come.”

Nanny Cheng let out a breath of relief. “Amitabha Buddha, truly the Buddha’s blessings. We were simply strolling in the courtyard when that young man — the one claiming to be from the Rong Family — came barging in and demanded we hand you over. You had gone to the rear mountain, so naturally we refused to cooperate. But then he shook that bell at the Madam a few times and she collapsed.”

As Nanny Cheng recounted what had happened, anger rose visibly in her face. “We were all terrified. Especially when the talisman inside the Madam’s sachet suddenly ignited — and when we thought about that Lu young master’s background, we realized he might have worked some kind of magic on her, and so we went to fetch the Venerable Xuanguang. Old servant believes it must be that Fang woman’s doing. She had once blocked the Madam’s path and said who knows what — and the Madam even mocked her for needing to practice keeping her mouth shut. She must have sent her son, who dabbles in Xuan arts, to come get revenge on her behalf.”

Saying so, Nanny Cheng spat and continued, “What’s so impressive about learning Xuan arts? Our Madam also has a daughter who studies such things—”

She paused, turned to look at Lang Jiuchuan, and asked, “Young Miss, how long have you been studying Xuan arts?”

Lang Jiuchuan replied lightly, “For some time now.”

This was clearly not an invitation to further inquiry.

Nanny Cheng sighed.

A commotion could be heard outside.

Lang Jiuchuan told Nanny Cheng to stand guard and left Jiangche in the room as a precaution, then rose and stepped outside.

Lu You’an’s expression was contorted. The corrosive pain wracking his body sent tremors through him, one hand clutching his chest. The malicious, bone-piercing sha energy felt as though it had clawed up from the depths of the underworld — surging endlessly from beneath his feet, raging through his entire body, freezing his meridians as though they had been sealed in ice, with blood unable to circulate freely.

Yin sha transmuting into poison.

He had been afflicted by sha.

And not an ordinary sha at that — even the talismans he carried hadn’t been able to withstand it. Lu You’an understood this clearly, and immediately pulled out the jade talisman he wore around his neck. As he examined it, he saw that it had already cracked — the moment he touched it, it split in two and fell apart.

Lu You’an stared in shock. He sat cross-legged on the ground, formed hand seals, and was forced to channel every scrap of his spiritual energy to combat the rampaging yin-sha within his body, all while reciting the Golden Light Divine Mantra under his breath. Yet despite his decent aptitude, he was still young, had almost no combat experience, and had accumulated virtually no spiritual merit — so he was in a complete panic, his focus shattered. He couldn’t even get through the incantation intact before he vomited a mouthful of dark blood, and in an instant, he wilted like a flower collapsing under frost, utterly drained.

The Venerable Xuanming had just been summoned when he arrived to witness exactly this scene. His face turned an unflattering shade of green.

Were this mother and son truly here just to make his life difficult?

Xuanming was deeply exasperated. Though he had no shortage of sons, this one was still his own blood, with some modest spiritual talent to his name — so he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the boy to die.

He removed a Vajra dharma bell from his person and pressed it against Lu You’an’s chest, then laid a hand on his spirit gate and recited the Six-Syllable Mantra.

Lu You’an felt the bone-piercing, heart-devouring pain ease considerably — but equally, the spiritual energy within him had been nearly depleted. How could it have been exhausted so quickly?

And the yin-sha inside him had not dispersed.

The Venerable Xuanming looked at the boy’s haggard state and couldn’t help but frown, his expression darkening. In his youth he had been a wayward libertine with a taste for women and no grasp of Taoism whatsoever — possessing only a certain affinity with Buddhism that had led him to enter the monastic order. His cultivation had been entirely in Buddhist doctrine, and in Xuan arts, he was honestly not proficient.

So when he learned that Fang Shi had borne him a son, and that the boy had later shown some talent, he had arranged for him to be sent to the Rong Family. Who would have imagined the child would have enough fortune that the Wan Fang Elder of the Rong Family would personally take notice and accept him as a final disciple.

The Venerable Xuanming was of Tantai clan lineage, and talented children within the clan were becoming increasingly scarce. Of course he understood the significance of a gifted and fortunate child emerging — which was why he had been willing to act as a protector for this mother and son.

And yet the talent he had thought so highly of amounted to… this?

Had he overestimated the child? Overestimated that Wan Fang Elder? Or was there simply a reason that the Rong Family ranked at the bottom among the Xuan clans — because of what they were teaching people?

Time and again this pair had disrupted his pursuit of Buddhist enlightenment, costing him dharma artifacts and spiritual energy. The Venerable Xuanming was beginning to lose patience. At his core he was careless and self-serving — he himself always came first. The Fang Shi mother and son were bringing him nothing but trouble, and that was deeply irritating.

Though of course, this trouble likely all traced back to the same person.

The Venerable Xuanming looked at the young woman who had just emerged from that meditation chamber, his expression unfriendly. Rising, he intoned, “Amitabha Buddha. Young benefactress, one should show mercy where mercy can be shown.”

Lang Jiuchuan glanced at Lu You’an, who lay sprawled on the ground like a dead snake, then looked at the Venerable Xuanming. “Reverend, your words escape me. ‘Show mercy where mercy can be shown’ — what exactly have I done? Perhaps Reverend should instead ask this young man what he did to an ordinary woman.”

The Venerable Xuanming’s brow furrowed.

Supported by Ma Cheng, Lu You’an glared at Lang Jiuchuan, his face drained of all color. “It was you. It must have been you who implanted a sha curse on me.”

“A curse?” Lang Jiuchuan let out a cold laugh. “Is it not you, fellow practitioner, who laid a yin-sha technique on someone? Your current pitiful state is nothing but a backlash from your own magic being broken, is it not? You were the first to act. Your technique was countered, and now the backlash falls on you. You are simply outmatched.”

As for the so-called curse — without evidence, she acknowledged nothing.

Lu You’an’s breath caught.

Before he could speak, Lang Jiuchuan drove in another blade: “Or perhaps they did tell you — and you simply weren’t skilled enough, and so you deserve this backlash?”

Every word drew blood.

Pft.

Overwhelmed with fury, Lu You’an felt a stabbing pain in his chest and spat out another mouthful of dark blood, collapsing backward.