Old Master Bai Kuang Lin had always been a man of lofty principle, with countless students to his name. Zuo Yan had once been his pupil, and having grown up alongside Bai Ning since childhood, he had always held this teacher in deep respect. To now hear from Lang Jiuchuan that there was such a great and hidden secret behind it all — his mind had gone somewhat numb. Seeing the old man suddenly crumple to the ground, he did not ignore it. He rushed over to support him.

Lang Jiuchuan walked over, made no elaborate gesture, and simply pressed the tip of her talisman brush to his forehead. The divine authority carried by the brush pushed down the karmic backlash and suppressed it.

The time for a full reckoning had not yet come.

Bai Kuang Lin ceased convulsing, but with his advanced age and the toll of the karmic backlash — which had damaged his divine soul — that single moment had left him visibly more haggard. A gray and deathly aura now clung to him.

Zuo Yan looked at the talisman brush in Lang Jiuchuan’s hand with a reverence-tinged gaze. Even he, who could not distinguish much about such things, knew that this was surely a magical instrument — and possibly one of the highest-grade Daoist immortal implements, for even he — an ordinary person with no special sensitivities — had felt the awe-inspiring divine authority it radiated.

A majestic divine might — this was likely what that phrase truly meant.

Zuo Yan heard his teacher let out a groan. He looked down, and a faint alarm rose in his chest.

He could not perceive death-aura, but he could see deterioration. And the signs of decline that had now appeared on his teacher’s face meant that his time in this world was likely short.

“Someone come — summon Head Physician Zhang. Have him come here.” Zuo Yan was not capable of looking on with complete indifference. He called out loudly for someone, then glanced at Lang Jiuchuan. Seeing that she said nothing, he felt a slight easing in his chest — along with a deep and quiet sigh.

What people called the retribution of cause and effect — he had today come to understand it in the most visceral way.

The two elders of the Bai Family were not what one might call a harmonious and devoted couple, but they had observed the courtesies between husband and wife. To all appearances, they seemed to have treated each other with a degree of affection. Later, when his teacher’s wife had turned to Buddhism and a vegetarian diet, he had only assumed it was an aging woman praying for the children she had lost too young. He had never imagined it concealed a secret such as this.

If the curse had not fallen on Bai Ning. If he had not cared. This kind of secret — his teacher’s wife would probably have taken it to her grave without ever speaking a word of it. Such a wickedly devious and underhanded act, once known — it would grind her honor to dust.

“Master —”

Zuo Yan had just opened his mouth when from behind him came the sound of Old Madam Bai collapsing. He turned quickly, pressing his fingers to his temples.

Lang Jiuchuan, however, moved toward her with calm, unhurried steps. After Old Madam Bai had vomited several mouthfuls of black blood, her eyes rolling back to white, Lang Jiuchuan finally pressed down the karmic backlash for her as well.

Old Madam Bai’s breath was barely a thread, yet her eyes remained fixed, desperately, on the bone-rattle in Lang Jiuchuan’s hand — as though she wanted to take it back.

After that event from long ago, with the bone-rattle as her protective charm, she had gone unharmed for all those years. But the moment the bone-rattle left her body, she felt as if someone were slicing through her divine soul with a knife — cut by cut, far more agonizing than any wound to the flesh. The pain was enough to make her wish she were dead.

Lang Jiuchuan caught that greedy, desperate gaze and let out a snort of contempt. “It seems you feel no remorse at all. Even now, your only thought is for yourself — wanting to take back the bone-rattle to shield you from disaster, is that it?”

Old Madam Bai stiffened.

Zuo Yan’s brow furrowed. He looked at Old Madam Bai, and the warmth in his expression went cold.

“But why should you deserve to be shielded from it? You made your own wrongs — why should you be the comfortable one, while all the suffering and pain was borne by your children in your place? Did they owe you something?” Lang Jiuchuan’s voice was saturated with mockery.

Old Madam Bai finally could endure no more and shrieked, “If not for me, where would any of them be? I endured ten months of pregnancy and suffered through childbirth to bring them into the world. I raised every one of them through hardship. I never owed any of them a single thing.”

“If they had known how vicious you truly were, they would probably only wish they could have been reborn elsewhere. Though I suppose it is just as well — they were only your children for a short twenty-odd years. That is only twenty-odd years of misery to endure.”

Old Madam Bai went rigid once more. She glared at Lang Jiuchuan with hatred, her throat producing a low, rasping sound as she heaved for breath — but she had nothing to say in rebuttal.

Head Physician Zhang was brought in. Lang Jiuchuan stepped to one side and made no move to interfere as Zuo Yan had the physician administer needles and examine the two elders. In her view, it was all for nothing.

Nor did she criticize Zuo Yan for it. After all, these were his wife’s grandparents. To do absolutely nothing would have been a failure of basic human decency.

Lang Jiuchuan sat to the side, the bone-rattle turning slowly in her hand, her brow knitted tightly. What troubled her now was no longer the Willow Immortal’s curse — it was the demon-fetus.

Decades had passed. Who knew whether any powerful cultivator had encountered and destroyed it by now? If not — then after all these years, being manipulated and controlled, what had it become? If that Wangsa had not possessed a high level of cultivation, could he have suffered a backlash from his own demon-fetus, just as had happened with the jiangshi before?

The moment she imagined the demon-fetus growing into something terrifying, her scalp went taut. Then she shook her head, tossing the problem away. She was just a frail and short-lived young woman. She had no ability to deal with something like this. When the sky fell, it should be left to the taller ones to hold it up — the Xuan Clan, for instance, or the Surveillance Division.

That was the plan.

Lang Jiuchuan felt a weight lift from her shoulders, and even the furrow in her brow eased. Truly — a person must not exhaust herself with internal torment. Throwing the problem to those who are capable — that was always the best approach. She looked up, and found Zuo Yan standing nearby, watching her.

Zuo Yan had just seen her brow darkened and her face grim — and now she looked as though she had worked something out. “Master — what should be done now? Can the curse be broken?”

He glanced at the bone-rattle in her hand, his gaze wary.

This thing was forged from the Willow Immortal’s bones. Now black as night — it looked deeply ominous.

“A curse can always be broken — the only question is the price.” Lang Jiuchuan tapped the bone-rattle and said, “Especially since the Willow Immortal’s remains are still here. That makes it more possible.”

Zuo Yan’s eyes lit up.

“However — once the curse is lifted, your wife will have to don mourning white. She will also never be able to give the Duke’s estate any children of the Bai bloodline. As for the Bai Family — their line will end with this generation.” Lang Jiuchuan looked toward the two elders who had now been needled, and a faint, unreadable smile crossed her lips. She would not concern herself with whether they lived or died.

The cleanest way to break the curse was to let the Bai bloodline end with Bai Ning’s generation. Now that Bai Jingsong had undone himself through his own recklessness, he was already finished. The only one remaining was Bai Ning.

So if the curse on Bai Ning was broken, she would forever be unable to conceive children of Bai blood — which meant she would never be able to give the Duke’s estate an heir of that lineage.

This was unfair to the Duke’s estate, and cruel to Zuo Yan. But this was cause and effect. Whatever was taken must be returned. Heaven understood fairness in this regard.

“A child can be adopted.” Zuo Yan answered without a moment’s hesitation. Then, when he looked toward the two Bai elders, his lips pressed together. His gaze returned to the bone-rattle in Lang Jiuchuan’s hand. “Cause and effect, action and consequence — whatever wrongs they committed, they should bear the price. What should be carried by them, they ought to carry.”

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow. “You are magnanimous, Young Lord.”

Zuo Yan shook his head with a bitter smile. “I am unworthy of such praise from Master. It is simply selfishness. And furthermore — I don’t have the capacity to take on anything in their place.”

He simply did not want his wife to die. As for the others — it was beyond his power.

Zuo Yan withdrew his gaze, his whole bearing going still and cold.

Lang Jiuchuan smiled with satisfaction. She despised those who couldn’t see clearly — and fortunately, the one before her was not such a person. Very well, then. She would get to work.

She wrapped her hand around the bone-rattle, and stood up.