Demon. Heretic. Against Heaven’s law.

“She must be executed, she must be destroyed.”

“Burn her!”

From somewhere in the crowd of onlookers, someone followed up on Tantai Cong’s words and began to stir things up — inciting the emotions of the common people around them, who began shouting furiously in her direction.

This was directing the anger of the masses — driving the populace to denounce her.

Truly revolting. Truly insufferable.

Lang Jiuchuan’s fist tightened.

The truth was, she genuinely disliked a war of words. Far too much wasted breath — better to use her hands directly, meet the opposition head-on, and settle it in one stroke.

She lifted her gaze, looked at Lang Zhengping standing before her, then swept her eyes over the Lang brothers flanking her on all sides. The pink of her lips pressed together.

Watching as the armored commander raised his hand and began leading his men toward her, Lang Jiuchuan stepped forward, seized the collar of Lang Zhengping’s robe, pulled him behind her, and let her aura surge outward — as if a fierce wind had swept through — pushing him and Lang Caimeng and the others back two steps.

“A fine ‘Heaven’s law cannot be fulfilled.'” Lang Jiuchuan fixed a scornful look on the Daoist priests in their robes. “You who call yourselves the righteous path — rather than going to slay true demons, rather than defending the true Way, you follow a prince here to persecute a lone young woman and besiege a small marquis’s estate. Is this what you call the righteous path in your hearts? Or is it simply that I am young and frail, and easy to bully?”

The expressions of several Daoists shifted. Daoist Miaocheng let out a cold snort, gave his fly-whisk a sharp flick, and said sternly, “Cease your sophistry! Daoist Zhishang hails from the Quanzhen school and is skilled in divination. He is a man of great Dao — would he falsely accuse a young woman for nothing? You have used a foreign soul to seize this body. That itself is a demonic art. This act of yours is an injury to an innocent, and the evidence is irrefutable.”

“And what is this evidence, precisely? These market rumors — or—” She looked toward Tantai Cong sitting high above them all. “Or is it because this noble young prince spoke out of turn, exercising his private authority and rank to try to have me put to death — simply to win the favor of his fiancée?”

Before Tantai Cong could erupt in fury, she continued without pause: “Ah, yes — it was at Qingyang Monastery, in the rear mountain, that I witnessed the young head of the Rong Family appearing to have gone into a demonic deviation and losing control of herself. I wonder if she was trying to silence me? How unjust — the Lang Family, I myself, had no enmity with her whatsoever. I had not breathed a word outside about her spiraling into a demonic deviation and losing control. Why would she go to such lengths to have me killed? Was she not afraid of accumulating karmic killing debts?”

What — the young head of the Rong Family had gone into a demonic deviation again?

Tantai Cong’s face changed drastically. Without thinking, he hurled a talisman at her: “Impudence! Cease this slander at once — the young head of the Rong Family is not someone a demon like you can drag down with accusations! You are trying to muddy the waters — take this talisman!”

Oh — so he was the one who struck first.

Lang Jiuchuan launched a talisman of her own, sending it directly crashing into his. The two talismans collided in midair, detonating with a thunderous boom.

The crowd cried out in alarm.

The two talismans exploded, and the soldiers standing closest to Lang Jiuchuan bore the brunt of it — struck by talisman fire, they let out cries of pain.

But on Lang Jiuchuan’s side, she had already shielded herself and those behind her with a barrier of righteous energy.

“Get back inside — don’t drag me down.” Lang Jiuchuan turned her head and snapped the order.

Lang Zhengping met her cold, unyielding gaze, his lips moving. As the head of the household, he commanded the others to go in — but he himself remained standing a few steps behind her.

A cloud of talisman smoke dissipated. The expression on Tantai Cong’s still-youthful face was a mixture of shock and fury. He had been challenged.

“Demon — you are truly—”

“Which demon,” Lang Jiuchuan cut him off, “dares to use their own body and soul to wield a talisman of righteous energy?” Her gaze turned glacial. With a motion of her sleeve, a small yet profoundly ancient bronze coin sword came into her hand — something she had temporarily borrowed from the Tongtian Pavilion.

She flicked her wrist. A streak of golden light shot through the air, pointing directly at the center of Tantai Cong’s brow. “You call me a demon, yet you don’t allow me to speak of the young head of the Rong Family losing herself to a demonic deviation and devouring the souls of others. How very protective of you. But whether I am a demon or not is not something that can be decided by the two of you flapping your lips open and shut. What determines it is whether Heaven will tolerate my existence.”

She spiraled the sword in an arc — the sword light blazed like a rainbow, righteous energy surging forth in great waves, without so much as a trace of yin evil — and when it pointed at the center of his brow, it felt like being scorched by a sun-fueled flame, intolerable and unbearable.

The color drained from Tantai Cong’s face. He found he could not move — he had been frightened still.

The killing intent coiled within that righteous sword energy — he felt it.

She intended to kill him.

How dare she?

“Do not harm anyone!” Daoist Miaocheng charged forward with his fly-whisk raised.

Lang Jiuchuan’s sword tip pivoted and swept across his fly-whisk. The keen sword energy cut clean through it as though cleaving it in two — the whisk’s tail fell to the ground and ignited by itself, burning without flame.

Daoist Miaocheng’s expression shifted, and clutching what remained of his fly-whisk, he was forced back a step.

Lang Jiuchuan laughed coldly. “How is it that these so-called pillars of the righteous path cannot even withstand one strike of my sword — and yet you presume to declare me a demon? Would the Three Pure Ones know that you cultivate the Dao with waterlogged brains?”

“You—” Daoist Miaocheng erupted in fury. Looking at the fly-whisk tail reduced to ash on the ground, his face turned the color of iron. He was just about to speak when the young woman stepped forward — he was so startled he stumbled back.

Lang Jiuchuan swept a contemptuous gaze over him and the several Daoists standing nearby. “Well? Your cultivation may be mediocre, but even you can see that this sword of mine is a bronze coin sword — a blade for slaying demons and vanquishing evil, yes? I, a demon, wielding a demon-slaying artifact? Do you take me for a fool? Or are all of you blind, seeing it and pretending you don’t?”

With a thought, she released the bronze coin sword from her hand. It spun in the air above her head — the sword energy radiated outward, making even the soldiers standing nearby go pale.

Yet Lang Jiuchuan herself was completely unaffected. Her fingers formed a seal, and she struck it toward the bronze coin sword. With a resonant hum, the sword energy shot skyward — then made a full circuit above the heads of everyone present before returning to her hand. The humming continued without cease, the vibration rattling the bronze coins attached to the sword in a ceaseless jingling.

Lang Caizhaos, who was clinging to the estate gate and craning his neck for a look, had his eyes blazing with admiration. Good heavens — my ninth sister is incredible!

Thank goodness he hadn’t been foolish enough to also believe she was a demon. Otherwise, that sword would have gone straight for his head.

“All of you came here today with great fanfare, not even hesitating to stir up the populace to surround our marquis’s estate. You use nothing but underhanded and despicable means — borrowing the name of demon-removal to carry out the reality of suppressing those who will not submit to you. Is this not what the Xuanzu clan has always done to cultivators who refuse to be recruited and who defy them? And is it not for this very reason that all of you have become retainer disciples to some powerful house?”

Her voice rang out high and clear, carrying to the ears of the common people in the crowd and causing the mob to go quiet, falling into thought.

The expressions of several people shifted once more.

Lang Jiuchuan gripped the bronze coin sword, her voice cutting like ice. “This bronze coin sword of mine comes from the orthodox tradition of the Daoist school — a treasure kept in the Tongtian Pavilion. I testify to the Way through this sword. If I am a demon, who in this world dares to call themselves righteous?”

At these words, the crowd erupted in an uproar.

The tide of the situation reversed sharply.

Tantai Cong’s face turned the color of iron. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Even if you can wield the bronze coin sword — you have used a foreign soul to seize this body. That runs contrary to the laws of yin and yang. Heaven cannot tolerate it!”

“And what evidence do you have that I am a foreign soul seizing this body?” Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes went cold. “Did the young head of the Rong Family tell you? That this body had already been slain by her, the soul devoured — so that whoever inhabits it now must be a foreign soul that has seized it?”

Come then. Since both sides had already played their hands, there was no point in keeping up appearances any longer.

The crowd exchanged glances: “?”

The implications in those words — were they not rather significant?

“No matter how cleverly you talk — this body of yours bore the mark of an early death from the very beginning. It died long ago. It is impossible for it to still be alive.” A voice cut in suddenly out of nowhere.