In Gong Qi’s view, the spiritual essence accumulated by the Rong Family over decades had entirely fallen upon that Fourth Master Rong. A true son of heaven — whatever he learned, he grasped quickly and with complete mastery. Such a person was naturally proud and untameable. While Gong Qi was painstakingly learning to draw talismans stroke by stroke, Fourth Master Rong had already been scattering talismans across the sky.

Every generation of the Xuan Clan produced a troublemaker, and in Gong Qi’s generation, Fourth Master Rong was that troublemaker — rebellious and difficult to manage, and impossible to appease. For his sake, those old men of the Rong Family had exhausted untold amounts of their mental faculties and pulled out no small number of beard hairs, especially on the matter of taking a wife.

“Didn’t you say that young masters with a Dao root are not supposed to intermarry freely with outsiders, but rather form marriage alliances with others who possess a Dao root? Does this Xi Yun have a Dao root?” Lang Jiuchuan interrupted Gong Qi’s words.

Gong Qi said, “That is indeed the general rule, but who are we talking about? Rong Qingcang — just hearing his name tells you he’s domineering. He simply refused to follow the clan’s arrangements and insisted on choosing his own marriage partner.”

“So he freely chose this Xi Yun?”

“Not exactly. From what I heard, during his travels outside, he had secretly pledged himself to another woman, though this is mere hearsay and cannot be taken as truth — because in the end, he still obediently married the woman arranged by the clan, which is to say, Xi Yun.” Gong Qi continued, “After the wedding, he became a different person — no longer as wayward and untameable as before, but settled and gentle.”

Lang Jiuchuan lightly tapped his teacup and said, “So how did he end up crippled?”

“He suffered great damage while fighting a powerful malevolent ghost king — his Dao root shattered and his cultivation regressed.” Gong Qi stroked his chin. “Apparently it happened three years after the wedding. From then on, he withdrew entirely from worldly affairs and even ignored clan matters. Ordinary people can rarely even catch a glimpse of him.”

“His wife and daughter can’t see him either?” Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow.

Gong Qi shook his head. “That I don’t know, but I’ve never seen Fourth Master Rong attend any banquets together with his wife. I’ve never seen him at all.”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “So after Fourth Master Rong was crippled, the Rong Family designated the current Young Master Rong as their heir.”

“Mm.”

“And the woman he secretly pledged himself to — does she truly exist?”

Gong Qi smiled faintly. “Scandals like this are the same as the matter of Young Master Rong succumbing to cultivation deviation — they’re all buried and suppressed tightly. How could anyone publicize them? Whether she truly exists, only Fourth Master Rong himself knows.”

“Interesting.” Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes flickered. “So Xi Yun’s every hope rests entirely on Young Master Rong alone.”

“Naturally — the mother of the clan’s Young Master, what a lofty position that is.” Gong Qi glanced sideways at her and said, “What did she do to you?”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “Can you find out whether Fourth Master Rong has any bloodline scattered outside?”

Pfft.

Gong Qi spat out a mouthful of tea, eyes wide as he stared at her. “What did you just say — Fourth Master Rong’s bloodline?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. “Didn’t you say he secretly pledged himself to someone? Who was she, and did she bear him a child? If you can find out, I’ll get you a talisman of a higher tier than the Five Thunder Talisman.”

Gong Qi said, “That’s just hearsay — do you actually believe unfounded rumors?”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. A man as wild and untameable as him suddenly and obediently agreeing to a clan-arranged marriage — isn’t that strange? Something must have happened to change his mind.” Lang Jiuchuan smiled faintly. “If such a person truly existed, and a bloodline was left scattered outside, that would hardly be surprising.”

“Probably not — if there were, why would he quietly stay within the clan’s territory?” Gong Qi shook his head.

Lang Jiuchuan remained noncommittal. “What if he doesn’t even know himself?”

Gong Qi fell silent. He stared intently at Lang Jiuchuan and said, “Why are you investigating this?”

“The matter of Young Master Rong suffering cultivation deviation and damaging his Dao root is true — this comes from the Tongtian Pavilion’s intelligence.” Lang Jiuchuan answered with a non-answer, looking at him. “So the Rong Family’s current marriage alliance with the imperial family is something they had no choice in — they had no other options.”

Gong Qi’s pupils contracted slightly.

So it was true. The reason the Rong Family had been so eager to form a marriage alliance with the Gong Family back then was likely also because of this — they were afraid that if something happened to their heir, the Rong Family would have nothing left to rely on.

“Cultivation deviation — what was she cultivating to have fallen into inner demons?” Gong Qi muttered with a furrowed brow.

Lang Jiuchuan wanted to know as well. She was already somewhat looking forward to how Young Master Rong would appear before her at the Qingming Festival.

As a precaution, her own strength needed to be even greater — lest she prove unable to hold her own when the confrontation came.

Gong Qi watched her high-spirited expression and couldn’t help finding it somewhat peculiar. This sudden excitement — was it because Young Master Rong had succumbed to cultivation deviation?

Fu Qi walked in, looked at Lang Jiuchuan, and said, “Little Nine, a guest has arrived.”

Gong Qi tactfully rose and walked out together with her. They arrived at the front of the shop, where they saw a man with a stern, imposing bearing — tall and powerfully built, yet unable to conceal his haggardness — standing before a vibrantly colored painting. Hearing their footsteps, he turned to look.

Lang Jiuchuan’s brow arched slightly — this was Zuo Yan, the heir of the Duke of Founding Glory’s estate.

When Zuo Yan saw Lang Jiuchuan, he gave a slight nod. Then his gaze fell on the person standing beside her, and his eyes flickered — this was someone from the Gong Family, currently serving in the Surveillance Division, the seventh son with the Daoist title Qinqian.

Gong Qi looked at Zuo Yan — dressed in fine robes, his posture ramrod straight — and his gaze settled on the marital palace region of Zuo Yan’s face. His brows furrowed, and he glanced at Lang Jiuchuan. “You’re not planning to interfere in matters of life, death, and reincarnation, are you?”

Zuo Yan had trained in martial arts since childhood. Hearing these words, he couldn’t help but feel his eyelids twitch, his heart thumping rapidly. What did that mean?

Lang Jiuchuan also saw that the marital palace on Zuo Yan’s face was dark and heavily shadowed, and she asked directly: “Is your honored wife gravely ill?”

In just a matter of days, the omen of a widower had grown so pronounced.

Zuo Yan’s face darkened — not in anger, but in shock. He had said nothing, yet these two people, one speaking of life and death and reincarnation, the other laying it out plainly without any preamble.

Gong Qi was someone from the Xuan Sect who could read physiognomy — that he could understand. But Lang Jiuchuan — wasn’t she only versed in medicine? And yet from just a single glance at the first meeting, she declared that Lady Ning was gravely ill. Was that also read from physiognomy?

Suppressing the urgency in his heart, he nodded and said, “Miss previously said that those with troubles may come to the Hall of All Matters seeking help. I have come today to request that you visit my residence and treat my wife’s illness.”

“She doesn’t have long.” Lang Jiuchuan said, “You should have come sooner.”

Zuo Yan’s expression shifted drastically, and he said gravely, “Do not speak nonsense.”

“If it were not for the other imperial physicians declaring her condition beyond treatment, the Young Lord would not come to my humble little shop seeking out a young girl like me. You must have known this in your heart — you came clinging to one last thread of possibility.”

Zuo Yan swayed slightly on his feet. The color drained entirely from that handsome face, and with reddened eyes he said, “The Hall of All Matters — resolving all matters. Could it be that this purpose is nothing but a gimmick to deceive people?”

Oh, the goading tactic.

Lang Jiuchuan was hardly pleased with that, and said, “That is naturally not the case. Guests are always welcome — there is no reason to send a guest away empty-handed.”

Gong Qi’s face darkened. “Are you out of your mind?”

Interfering in matters of life, death, and reincarnation — and if she succeeded, the three afflictions and five deficiencies that would have to be endured in return were no laughing matter.

Lang Jiuchuan curved her lips. “Relax. Is this person not still alive? As long as there’s still breath, there’s still a thread of hope. I know what I’m doing.”

Zuo Yan: “……”

The words were unpleasant to hear, yet somehow one didn’t dare to refute them.