The news that the always-lofty Xuan Clan had come to the Marquis’ Residence — and that it was the Gong Family who had come, holding the second-ranked position among the Xuan Clan — spread through the household like a pot of water brought freshly to boil. The entire Marquis’ Residence was in a ferment.

The Xuan Clan — they had come and presented a calling card at the door. What did that mean? It meant propriety. It meant proper etiquette. Did this not mean that their Marquis’ Residence, too, now had connections to the Xuan Clan?

The calling card, however, had been delivered in the name of Second Madam Cui Shi — the widow who had always lived quietly and unremarkably within the inner residence. And so the responsibility of receiving the guests would naturally fall to her.

Still, to demonstrate the household’s regard for the occasion, Lang Zhengping brought along Madam Fan, his third brother, and several of the family’s young men to welcome the guests and keep them company.

Those who had come from the Gong Family were legitimate sons of the direct bloodline — ranked fourth within the family, with the Daoist name Jingyi, and ranked seventh, with the Daoist name Qinqian. Neither of them was the heir of the Gong Family, but by virtue of the family’s tradition and the purity of their bloodline, they were superior to most in their cultivation of the Dao.

Among the Five Arts of the Xuan School, the Gong Family was most accomplished in the disciplines of Mountain, Divination, and Physiognomy. They had some knowledge of Medicine and Fate Reading as well, though far less than the former three disciplines.

But to ordinary people, they were already extraordinary and intimidating beyond measure.

And so the Lang Family’s young men, who could ordinarily climb onto the roof and lift tiles without a second thought, now sat perfectly still and well-behaved as mice before a cat. They regarded the Gong brothers with a mixture of curiosity, scrutiny, and open admiration.

Just look at that bearing — that presence — that stature. It seemed as though some inexplicable aura hovered around them, making them appear mysterious, capable of subduing hearts with a single look.

Though, this sort of bearing did look a little familiar — as though it had been seen on someone else before.

After Lang Zhengping escorted the two guests forward, the younger brother among the siblings trailing behind — Lang Caizhao — suddenly slapped the back of his head. “I remember now.”

The others of about his age, like Lang Caiyao and the rest, slanted their eyes at him.

“I know where I’ve seen it before. Lang Jiu — her bearing is quite similar to these two — that kind of impressively formidable look.”

Especially when Lang Jiuchuan gave someone a cold, sidelong glance — that look was genuinely unnerving.

She was equally mysterious, equally impossible to see through.

Everyone paused. Lang Caiyao let out a dismissive huff. “She is merely a girl. Is it fitting to mention her in the same breath as the sons of the Gong Family? You think too highly of her.”

Lang Caiguang nodded in agreement — though when he actually thought of Lang Jiuchuan, he found he did not dare utter a single word against her.

Lang Caizhao gave a cold laugh, standing with hands on hips. “Whether it is fitting to compare them or not is one thing — but she does have that quality, deny it if you dare. She can get Father to put you and Lang Qi under house arrest, after all.”

Not far away, hiding and peering through a gap, Lang Cailing’s face went scarlet with indignation. She wanted nothing more than to charge out and pound this domineering, insufferable boy senseless — but she did not dare. He was the family tyrant, the apple of his birth mother’s eye. Did she have a death wish?

Lang Caiyao, visibly disgruntled, opened his mouth to argue — when the eldest brother, Lang Caimeng, snapped with a stern look: “What are you all shouting about? Get a move on.”

Everyone immediately composed themselves and fell into step.

They could not be making a laughingstock of themselves in front of honored guests.

Gong Qi, who had been training his body and his cultivation arts for years and had long since developed exceptionally keen ears and clear eyes, had heard every word spoken by those young ones from a considerable distance. He raised an eyebrow and quietly leaned toward his Shixiong. “The little ones in the Lang family are quite interesting. Who is this ‘Lang Jiu’ they speak of? Do we really have that kind of bearing?”

Gong Si, ever measured and composed, murmured in a low voice: “No unnecessary talk. We did not come here to gossip.”

Gong Qi swallowed his tongue back down.

He was just curious. Shixiong was just a stuffy, gloomy old stick-in-the-mud.

The party arrived at the main reception hall in the front courtyard, where Cui Shi was already waiting. She stepped forward and offered a bow.

Gong Si and Gong Qi returned the courtesy with a joined-hands salute. “Madam, we present our respects.”

They then turned and bowed to Madam Fan as well.

Madam Fan was a little overwhelmed, flustered and flushed, and hastily returned the bow.

Once they were all seated in the reception hall, the usual formal exchange of pleasantries followed. Madam Fan, as the principal wife of the household, had to arrange accommodations and a banquet to receive the honored guests, inquire about dietary restrictions, and then withdrew to see to the arrangements — taking the youngest of the family’s young men with her so as not to disturb the guests.

Cui Shi first inquired after the health of the Gong Family’s principal wife, and Gong Qi smiled brightly. “My mother is in excellent health. These past two years she has even been enjoying the joys of grandchildren, living quite contentedly. It is kind of you to think of her, Madam.”

Cui Shi was taken aback. “Are you one of Yuchang’s children?”

Gong Qi smiled and nodded. “I am my mother’s youngest. This year I am fifteen. Within the direct bloodline of the clan, I am ranked seventh. This is my second uncle’s eldest son — ranked fourth in our generation. Addressing us by full Daoist name is a little cumbersome, so Madam may simply call us Gong Si and Gong Qi.”

They were cousins. And being practitioners of the Dao, they were also fellow disciples under the same lineage — Shixiong and Shidi in name.

The Lang family’s men straightened up even further at this revelation. Guests of direct bloodline, honoring their household with a visit — this was truly showing them great respect.

Cui Shi said: “Yuchang and I were close friends in our girlhood. After we each married and left home, it is many years now that we have not seen one another. And she is already a grandmother.”

There was in her voice a distinct note of feeling — and a faint thread of wistfulness.

Gong Qi had already made inquiries about Cui Shi from his mother beforehand and knew she was a widow. He smiled and said: “My mother also misses the friendship she and you shared in those early years, and hopes dearly that one day, Madam will come and visit the clan as a guest. She has said she wishes to drink and talk freely with you, the way you used to when you were young.”

“That would be most welcome.” Cui Shi lifted her teacup and took a small sip. “Yuchang’s letter said you would probably not arrive until after the New Year. There are only a few days left until the New Year now — what happened?”

Gong Si set down his teacup, his brow furrowed. “It was the clan’s young master. In the course of observing the stars one night, he performed a divination and found signs indicating that a great demonic evil may be on the verge of emerging somewhere in the region of Wu Jing. He dispatched us to come and investigate. If the matter proves real, we are to report it and alert the various clans so that they may join forces to eliminate the evil and protect the innocent, lest harm be done to the common people and chaos unleashed upon the world. However, as this has not yet been confirmed, we ask that those present please refrain from spreading this outside, so as not to cause unnecessary alarm.”

Cui Shi and the others were visibly shaken. They exchanged glances, pupils faintly contracting in shock.

“What — what kind of demonic evil is it?” Lang Zhengping asked, his voice somewhat stiff.

Gong Si said coolly that he did not know.

Lang Zhengping did not dare press further. Inwardly, however, he thought: Does the Ninth Young Miss know about this? Perhaps I should ask her later.

Right — his Ninth Young Miss also seemed to know a thing or two about Xuan School arts. She could even do the blindfolded feat of precision just now. No need to panic.

Lang Zhengping’s expression settled almost immediately into calm, and he lifted his teacup to sip at a leisurely pace.

Gong Qi noticed the shift in his composure and found it distinctly odd. One moment the man had been visibly alarmed at hearing about the demonic evil — and in the very next breath he was utterly unruffled, as though nothing had happened at all. Was this the detachment of ordinary mortals who simply viewed such things as having nothing to do with them?

Gong Qi gave a small shake of his head.

Gong Si continued: “We came ahead of schedule only because the clan’s young master’s orders were urgent. During our stay here, we brothers will be out and about investigating in various places — so our being here is not solely to honor my mother’s request to assist your household.”

Cui Shi said at once: “All the same, you must have somewhere to stay. You are guests in our home. Since you are Yuchang’s son and nephew, you are also my juniors. Why not stay here at the Lang Residence for the time being? It would make your comings and goings all the more convenient.”

“There is no need to—”

“Then we shall impose upon your hospitality, Madam.” Gong Qi smiled and accepted the offer with a bow of joined hands.

Gong Si frowned and turned to look at Gong Qi, who blinked back at him — and said no more. They would be going out anyway; they might not even return every night. It was just a place to sleep. Anywhere would do.