After Jiangche’s bold intervention, Lang Jiuchuan rubbed her nose sheepishly and quickly rattled off a few reasonable items — ordinary ones, though she had the feeling Tongtian Pavilion possessed extraordinary ones as well.

A’Piao asked, “What are you doing all this for?”

Lang Jiuchuan’s expression cooled slightly, and she relayed the whole matter of the Bai Family’s curse from Liu Xian.

A’Piao gave a cold laugh. “People are so selfish and greedy — they seek a spirit’s protection and then turn around and destroy it. Greedy and vicious. You truly shouldn’t have taken this case. Mess it up and the three deficiencies and five shortcomings will be worse than before.”

“I have entered the Dao and was granted a second life — how can I turn away from difficulty when I see it? And you know as well as I do — my enemies are far more formidable than this curse. If I can’t even face a mere curse, how am I to uncover the truth, let alone take my revenge?” Lang Jiuchuan lowered her gaze to her fingertips and said, “The debt of this mortal body is one thing. And then there is the original debt of my own? If they are one and the same, so be it — but if they are two separate matters, then one trial follows another. My road ahead is nothing but blades and thorns. There is no retreat.”

A’Piao was silent.

“The three deficiencies and five shortcomings hold no fear for me. As long as I don’t die, nothing else matters — and as long as I live, I have a chance.” Lang Jiuchuan raised her gaze, her eyes sharp and clear. “If I don’t die, then the ones who will die are those who wronged me.”

To charge headlong into adversity — that was her way.

Both A’Piao and Jiangche were shaken to hear those cold, piercing words.

Lang Jiuchuan placed the bone chime on the table and said, “Liu Xian’s curse arose from her grief and fury at the wickedness of human nature, and from her grief at losing her child. The poison of her resentment stemmed from being schemed against — having her heart gouged out and her child stolen, and in the end, her very bones forged into a ritual implement. The simplest and most direct method I can conceive of to break this curse is to use her bone chime as the medium, repay the debt with blood from the Bai bloodline, borrow the Nine Netherworld Karmic Flame to incinerate the bones, and forcibly sever the curse’s connection. But doing so would put the Bai family’s lives at risk — and most critically, once the Nine Netherworld Karmic Flame consumes the bones, the bone chime will be no more.”

The bone chime — even steeped in karma as it was — remained the only thing still in this world that belonged to Liu Xian. That demon spawn of unknown fate was a separate matter, naturally.

“I have a strong intuition that keeping this bone chime will prove useful.” Lang Jiuchuan said, running her fingers over it. “So to preserve the bone chime, I want to use the method of Deceiving the Heavens to break the curse, and simultaneously purify the karmic force on the bone chime — a somewhat gentler approach.”

“Deceiving the Heavens?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. “Liu Xian’s curse is this: that the Bai Family’s descendants will be born frail and die before thirty, and the family line will be cut off. But if all of the Bai descendants were already dead — the curse would have no meaning left.”

“You want to use substitutes?” A’Piao turned the materials she had requested over in his mind and immediately understood what she was planning.

Lang Jiuchuan showed her teeth in a grin. “Why else would I be asking you for those materials? Naturally, I intend to shift the stars and change the heavens.”

A’Piao thought it over and said, “The materials are all manageable. But this kind of star-shifting secret technique — doing it alone is still quite dangerous, especially given that your spiritual soul is not yet whole. This body of yours has improved, but it is not fully recovered. And on top of that, you also want to purify the karmic force on the bone chime — that means performing two types of arcane arts in succession. If your strength falters or your spiritual force runs short, the karmic force will rebound upon you. And if the three deficiencies and five shortcomings follow on top of that, it is like setting your life on top of a thunderbolt — it could detonate at any moment.”

He looked at Lang Jiuchuan. “I know you are someone who charges headlong into adversity. I also know that while the path of cultivation is chiefly one’s own affair, it is not as though one cannot seek the help of others.”

“What do you mean?”

“For this star-shifting technique, the Maoshan Daoist practitioners are the most skilled — their founding patriarch was said to handle this technique with complete mastery. Because it is a sect secret, all disciples through the generations have trained in it. Setting up a ritual altar for such a technique is no great difficulty for them. And with you serving as the main force alongside one of them, the result will be twice the effort for twice the effect — far better than you facing it alone.” A’Piao explained. “Yes, some of the merit will be shared — but right now, preserving yourself is what matters most. What do you say?”

Jiangche stared at Lang Jiuchuan with quiet meaning. “What was it you said earlier?”

Don’t bother with a stubborn burr. And now? That face — it was getting well and truly slapped, wasn’t it?

A Maoshan practitioner — wasn’t there one crouching right outside?

Lang Jiuchuan also felt the sting of it. “Are you certain the Maoshan practitioners are the most skilled at this?”

“I am a century-old ghost. I have witnessed the power of the Maoshan Sect firsthand — they are most skilled of all in catching ghosts. Would I deceive you?” A’Piao said indignantly. He had actually crossed blades with the Maoshan Sect in his time.

“No, what I mean is — the stubborn burr crouching outside your shop is a Maoshan practitioner. You truly are not in league with him and orchestrating this to humiliate me?” Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze was not friendly.

A’Piao was startled. “What?”

He glanced toward the door, caught sight of the Daoist crouching against the wall in his patched yellow robe — disheveled and gnawing on a flatbread — and recalled Lang Jiuchuan’s words upon entering. He burst out laughing. “So you too have a day when your face gets slapped! Ha — let’s see how you go about asking him for a favor!”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a cold smile. “Me? Ask? If it comes to it, I’ll manage it myself.”

There were some things she could sacrifice — but her dignity was not one of them.

A’Piao scoffed lightly. “Preserving your life is what matters. Don’t push your luck. Young Master Rong is nearly here, and then there’s the Marquis of Zhenbei — he’ll be back in Wu Jing before long. One spectacle after another. Without a strong body and powerful cultivation, how are you going to fight?”

Lang Jiuchuan put on a sweet smile. “Isn’t that what Tongtian Pavilion is here for — to be my sanctuary?”

A’Piao gave another huff of displeasure, then said, “See if that Maoshan Daoist can be put to use. I’m going to prepare some materials. And by the way — the soul incense has run out. Make some more.”

“Already?”

A’Piao frowned, looking somewhat troubled as he sighed. “Indeed. It doesn’t last long at all.”

In these recent times, their master had no idea what was keeping him busy — but he had driven the ghostly generals to personally deliver word for her to make more incense.

Lang Jiuchuan looked thoughtful.

Yice had never imagined that the proud and prickly Daoist Qingyi would actually send someone to call him inside. My — his divination had been quite accurate today!

He trotted in cheerfully and, upon seeing the interior furnishings of Tongtian Pavilion, his eyes lit up like lanterns. He couldn’t look fast enough, and saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. Sure enough, this was the legendary Tongtian Pavilion — its foundations were this deep and formidable.

He came to the room where Lang Jiuchuan was waiting, and before he could say a word, he felt a gust of yin wind blast toward him. Yice’s expression sharpened at once. He reached back and drew out his peach-wood sword, pressed two fingers along its length in a hand seal, and began chanting urgently: “Righteousness of Heaven and Earth, ten thousand methods follow the heart — demons and wandering spirits, none shall be left unsubdued…”

The peach-wood sword flashed with a streak of gold light. He swung it horizontally at the yin wind — but a talisman strike from Lang Jiuchuan intercepted it, knocking the blade askew, and with a sizzling sound, talisman fire ignited along the sword’s body.

Yice’s eyes sharpened. He bit his tongue tip, spat blood onto the peach-wood sword, then used his palm to smother the talisman fire, stepped back twice, and looked at Lang Jiuchuan. “Fellow Daoist — what is the meaning of this?”

“I looked at you and was displeased. So I struck you.”

Yice’s face went dark. His brow furrowed deeply. Had he misjudged this person? This woman was just maliciously underhanded, wasn’t she?

Lang Jiuchuan let go of the hanging ghost she had been frightening half to death, shoved it through the wall, then walked toward Yice. “They say you cannot know a person without a confrontation. Now we know each other. Daoist Yice of the Maoshan Sect — are you interested in collaborating on a ritual? The kind that involves doing battle with Heaven itself.”

Yice: “…”

Not underhanded. Just completely unhinged.