Lang Jiuchuan’s thoroughly unyielding attitude left the Venerable Xuanming somewhat cornered — like a man who had mounted a tiger and could not dismount. His patience was visibly eroding.

Among all the devotees who had come to Huguo Temple to offer incense, when had he ever encountered a young girl so utterly relentless? And in a Buddhist temple, no less — he had practically laid a staircase at her feet, and she refused to take even a single step upward.

This was a thorny and troublesome person.

The Venerable Xuanming’s brow furrowed deeply. He was exasperated with Lang Jiuchuan and even more dissatisfied with his useless son — who had done something underhanded and hadn’t had the competence to follow through, only to be thoroughly countered and leave a mess for others to deal with.

Truly, a bastard son who could never amount to anything.

The Venerable Xuanming was no longer thinking about how he had once viewed this son as talented, intending to cultivate him with some care. He was now focused entirely on how to rid himself of this present headache.

He had clearly devoted himself wholeheartedly to the pursuit of Buddhism. How, then, had peace eluded him?

Could it be that the Buddha found his devotion insufficiently sincere? Yet he had gone a full year without so much as looking at a woman — Amitabha Buddha!

The Venerable Xuanming was on the verge of losing his temper, but then the corner of his eye caught his kasaya robes, and he restrained himself. It was, as they said, that at times, one’s identity became its own set of shackles.

His identity as a Buddhist monk sat on his head like a binding crown, constantly reminding him to show compassion — that he was no longer a man of the mortal world.

The Venerable Xuanming turned his head to look at Lu You’an. This mess was of his making; he could clean it up himself.

Lu You’an caught that look, and his heart went cold. A sudden bitterness welled up within him. This was his supposed father — who from childhood onward had never given him any guidance. The truth was, if he had been allowed to acknowledge his ancestry and take the Tantai surname, what need would there have been to go to the Rong Family? Weren’t there resources within the Tantai clan? Those resources would have dwarfed anything the Rong Family could offer.

But the reality was that he had been sent to the Rong Family — all because of his status as an illegitimate son, and because of that wretched woman’s interference.

And now, in front of outsiders, his father wouldn’t even stand up for him — was he actually expected to bow his head to the other side?

Lu You’an’s resentment surged without end, and his lips pressed into a hard line, making his already swollen, half-ruined face look even more wretched.

As expected, there was no one to rely on.

A cold gleam flickered through Lu You’an’s lowered eyes. He raised his head and looked toward Lang Jiuchuan’s great-uncle.

“In my view, the young Miss of your esteemed household bears the physiognomy of one who died young and should not be alive at all. Ma Senior Brother, you are far more proficient in face-reading than I — what do you say?”

Ma Cheng had been dispatched by the Rong Family to manage their base of operations in Wu Jing — a location for their sect members stationed in the Bureau of Oversight to lodge. He had been perfectly comfortable until Lu You’an dragged him here to back up his mother.

And what backing had he actually provided? Helping to strike down a noblewoman — a low and underhanded deed. He had already felt uneasy about it, and now Lu You’an had managed to bungle it completely. He had been wanting to extract himself from this murky and foul-smelling pond ever since.

And now Lu You’an was asking him to do a face reading.

Ma Cheng instinctively glanced at Lang Jiuchuan’s face — and the moment he did, he found her features shrouded in a kind of dense fog. His heart lurched. He swiftly withdrew his gaze and said, “Junior Brother Lu, my skills are too shallow — I wouldn’t dare show off in front of everyone.”

A face that couldn’t be read clearly meant one of two things: either the person possessed a tremendous destiny that heaven refused to reveal, or someone had already worked a technique over her features and fate chart to prevent any divination from taking hold. Either way, it was nothing a minor augur like himself could meddle with. Trying to force a reading might well rebound on him.

And what did it matter that he and Lu You’an were both of the Rong Family? He had no personal grudge against Lang Jiuchuan — he would never exhaust his own cultivation and spiritual energy for the sake of someone else’s private vendetta.

Besides, how long had they known Lang Jiuchuan? From the very first encounter, she had delivered a blow without a single word of greeting — Lu You’an’s face had swollen half-numb and he had been afflicted with sha energy, and even now he still hadn’t learned restraint, still throwing his weight around on the strength of his identity. How reckless could he get?

Ma Cheng laughed inwardly. Identity was something that strength earned for you. How had he not grasped this?

She had inflicted a swollen, bruised face within moments of meeting, planted a sha this virulent, and left no traceable evidence behind — what did that prove? It proved the other party was cunning. And not just cunning — the kind of cunning that came with real ability. In other words, this was a formidable opponent.

Look at the situation: a backlash was the convenient excuse sitting right there. You want to prove she planted the technique? Produce your evidence. If you can’t, break the technique yourself and make the backlash fall on her.

Could Lu You’an do that?

He could not. And yet he still thought highly of himself — simply because he was the Wan Fang Elder’s final disciple?

Ma Cheng was no fool. He had no intention of wading into waters that had nothing to do with him.

In fact, he intended to play peacemaker. He turned to Lu You’an and advised, “Junior Brother, we are fellow practitioners after all — perhaps this is all a misunderstanding? Why not let it go with a laugh? Your complexion doesn’t look well — should we first work on extracting that yin-sha energy from your body?”

Lu You’an’s expression darkened as he looked at him. “Which side is Senior Brother Ma on? Are you frightened of her?”

Ma Cheng inwardly called him an idiot, and said quietly, “Junior Brother, the Bureau of Oversight’s officers are coming. You don’t have a single leg to stand on right now. Even the Rong Family would not be willing to oppose the Bureau of Oversight at this juncture.”

Never mind what the founding principles of the Bureau of Oversight were — the Rong Family’s young master was about to be joined in matrimony with the imperial clan. That meant the Rong Family stood on the side of the imperial family, and was obligated to uphold every directive that came from them. Were they really going to cause trouble for the sake of one minor disciple?

On what grounds?

And more importantly, he had already fallen behind in this contest. Continuing to press forward in this insufferable manner — was he hoping for his face to swell even more?

If the Bureau of Oversight arrived looking to make an example of someone to establish their authority, the first one they’d seize to make a point would be him.

Ma Cheng looked at Lu You’an’s face and sighed inwardly. He was too young, too hot-headed — puffed up by the praise of people within the clan, with no understanding of how to read a situation.

Look at his own father — even Xuanming had made no move to defend him. That alone told you how much trouble this whole business had become.

Lang Jiuchuan, sharp-eared, glanced at Ma Cheng. Her eyes flickered with quiet thought. So the Rong Family wasn’t entirely without sensible people. Even if his instinct was self-preservation, at least he knew enough to recognize when to fold — when you couldn’t beat someone, you lay low.

Lu You’an’s expression shifted through several rapid changes.

He glared at Lang Jiuchuan, his gaze full of indignation. He let out a cold huff and turned to leave.

“What took you so long?” Lang Jiuchuan’s voice rang out suddenly from behind him.

Lu You’an froze. Following her line of sight, he looked up to see Gong Qi dragging along a pale-faced official, with several members of the Xuan sects following behind.

When Lu You’an recognized Gong Qi, his face turned a sickly green. He had arrived so quickly? But when he noticed that some in that group also wore the insignia of the Rong Family, the tension in his expression eased slightly.

Gong Qi said, “What do you mean, took long? I even used the one-day-one-thousand-li talisman. What happened here? I heard from the Lang Family’s eldest son— from the Lang Family’s eldest that some member of the Xuan sect used a sinister yin technique on an ordinary person?”

His gaze swept across Lu You’an and Ma Cheng, pausing on the clan emblems on their robes. An eyebrow arched. He looked toward a middle-aged Taoist priest beside him and said, “Daoist Changqing, they bear your Rong Family’s emblems — would this qualify as acting in direct defiance of the current edict?”