Jiangche plunged headlong into Lang Jiuchuan’s spiritual sanctuary and sensed carefully. No wonder she looked like she was about to turn corpse-demon — her entire primordial spirit had departed.

Without the primordial spirit, this body was nothing but an empty shell. And that meant…

An immense stirring rose in Jiangche’s heart. If it fully occupied the body now, would that not mean it would become Lang Jiuchuan, become a person, and no longer a tiger?

But could it truly become her?

The memories of their time together flashed past like a shadow puppet play, swift and vivid scene by scene. Though from the day they had met to this moment was not yet three months, somehow it felt as though a great deal of time had already passed.

Jiangche was dazed for a moment, then shook its head.

It was the White Tiger Sovereign. It was destined to become a divine beast in the future. It would never stoop to the petty treachery of entering through a crack in the door — no, a crack in the cage.

Jiangche settled in to wait, drawing on its own root essence to help Lang Jiuchuan sustain her vital energy, so that Gong Qi — that erratic one — would not barge in and notice something was wrong.

Gong Qi had sensed Jiangche’s breath earlier, and it was not the first time, either. Every instance had been near Lang Jiuchuan or in her quarters.

So what was that breath? He would certainly have been able to see any wandering ghost or stray spirit, but he could not see this. Could it be some kind of spirit creature or numinous being?

Just then he had also received a message from the Hall of Enforcement — the yellow-browed Daoist and the rootless monk Wumu who had been brought back after attempting to harm the Lang family had both suffered a backlash of their own karmic corruption. Their cultivation had nearly entirely collapsed; what little remained was only barely sustaining their lives against that backlash.

Which meant the two disciples of the Rong family were thoroughly and permanently crippled.

Could it be connected to Lang Jiuchuan? And if so — when had she acted? One could argue she had never left — but then again, something like this was clearly following her, and if it wanted to do something, it could certainly act beyond the sight of even him or other occult practitioners.

Someone who only knows a little of the superficial arts. Hmph. Cunning indeed.

Still — what had Lang Jiuchuan sought him for, going even to his maternal grandmother’s side to look? Was there something urgent?

Now he had come, and yet she would not see him?

Gong Qi stood with his arms crossed, watching the maidservant with her twin bun hairstyle knock on the door. Not a single sound came from inside.

Jiangche was wondering whether it should just speak up on its own.

But before it could act, Lang Jiuchuan returned. The primordial spirit re-entered the body. Jiangche was struck by a shudder from the icy chill that swept in, and instinctively moved to intercept that yin-cold malevolent force, swallowing and tempering it.

“What did you go and do?”

Lang Jiuchuan breathed in and out with her hand seals, steadying herself, her voice hoarse. “I entered the pagoda.”

“I thought the King of Hell had invited you for another gathering and left an empty shell here. You looked about to turn corpse-demon. Gong Qi is already waiting outside.” And besides — the King of Hell, that old fellow, absolutely could not be wanting to catch up with her.

Lang Jiuchuan said, “Would that not have been convenient for you? With my soul gone, the shell would be all yours to occupy. How ideal.”

“I am the Tiger Sovereign — I have no interest in becoming a woman.” Jiangche leapt to its feet.

Lang Jiuchuan let out a soft laugh, stood up — and stumbled slightly. She put away the Vajra Pagoda, then opened the meditation room door and walked out.

Gong Qi saw her and immediately furrowed his brow. “You look ill? Your complexion is like a ghost’s.”

“Weak constitution, nothing to be done. I also cast a divination just now — it drained my spiritual energy.” Lang Jiuchuan beckoned him over and stood beneath the covered corridor. “Come and speak with me. I have information — shall we make a trade?”

Men and women, propriety was propriety. She herself did not care about her reputation, but it was better to avoid unnecessary complications when one could.

Gong Qi heard that she had cast another divination and said, “Two divinations in a single day — you are courting death? Your constitution is already frail and depleted, and you are further exhausting your spiritual energy like this. If the divination goes badly and triggers a backlash, no amount of medicinal pills will restore what you have lost.”

He had been born with Heaven’s Eye, his vision sharp and his senses keen — naturally his sense of smell was not lacking, either. Even Gong Si had remarked that this person treated medicinal pills like candy.

With a body like this, still casting two divinations in one day — did she have an inexhaustible store of spiritual energy? Even their clan’s young master would not expend spiritual energy on divination unless absolutely necessary.

Lang Jiuchuan’s expression did not change. “Which is why I want to get through the business quickly, so I can go before the Buddha and sit in meditation, absorb some of the incense flame energy, and replenish my primordial spirit.”

Gong Qi gave her a sideways look. “You dare?”

“Why would I not?” Lang Jiuchuan lifted her chin slightly, her meaning implicit. “It allowed me to enter — naturally I dare to go anywhere under Heaven and earth.”

Well. That was a fair point.

Whatever wandering soul or lost ghost could conceivably appear before the Buddha? Unless she truly was a soul occupying a borrowed body. Or perhaps she possessed cultivation powerful enough to give her the confidence to stand without fear anywhere.

Now was not the time to dwell on this. He returned to the matter at hand. “Speak then. What is it?”

“I just now divined a hexagram that concerns the movements of a demonic evil. Do you want it?”

Gong Qi’s expression sharpened. He straightened. “What is it?”

“In exchange for this information, you must protect someone for me — though it is not really protecting someone for me, since that person has a connection to this demonic evil affair as well.” Lang Jiuchuan glanced at him. “The Xuan clan’s founding purpose is to vanquish evil and uphold the Way — surely that also extends to righting injustice?”

Gong Qi’s eyelid gave a small twitch. “Somehow, from the way you have phrased that, I hear something other than what you mean — something like contempt.”

“Well put.”

“Rest assured — if it is connected to demonic evil, we will not turn a blind eye.” That amounted to a promise.

Only then did Lang Jiuchuan briefly relay Ding Suqiu’s story. “I did not summon the soul here in a Buddhist precinct — I relied only on causal reasoning for the divination. Her eight characters form a pure-yin birth chart, and she is also connected to this demonic evil. What do you think it might be? This evil is no small matter, and I fear she was neither the first nor the last.”

The implication was clear: more people would fall victim.

Gong Qi’s expression turned cold. “Just now, my fellow disciples and I were also discussing this very matter with the eminent monk Shanming of Huguo Temple, and we arrived at one possibility.”

“Oh?”

He looked at Lang Jiuchuan with a meaningful expression and said, “Do you know — there are corpses that do not decompose even after a hundred or a thousand years, remaining as lifelike as the living, waiting only for the right moment to arise and revive? We call such a thing a corpse-fiend, and at the most extreme end, a drought demon.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s heart gave a jolt. Unconcerned with his probing, she said, “You are saying — a corpse-fiend is attempting to emerge?”

“It is difficult to say with certainty. But such things that go against the natural order of Heaven, buried in the earth for year upon year, continuously draw upon the yin of the earth and absorb it by day and night. If they then feed on blood and devour souls, they become a supreme evil…”

Gong Qi’s words abruptly cut off. He and Lang Jiuchuan looked at each other. Their pupils contracted slightly.

Supremely yin and supremely malevolent — as the hexagram had already declared.

If such a being were to feed on the blood, flesh, and soul of a woman with a pure-yin birth chart, would that not be its most potent tonic?

“What did your first hexagram say? Blood-stained crimson moon?” Gong Qi said, his voice low and grave. “I once read through the clan’s archive of strange records. Wherever a corpse-fiend emerges, the moonlight runs like blood — it is called the yin moon.”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “What I know is only this much. Whether or not such a thing truly exists — that is for you to determine.”

The Xuan clan would have their own methods of investigation, and they wielded sufficient influence to mobilize official bureaus and yamen.

“The person I need protected is Ding Suqiu’s father. It was precisely because he stubbornly pressed on to find out the truth of his daughter’s fate that he ended up suffering for it. Tracing from that thread should turn up some leads.” Lang Jiuchuan paused, then added, “There is also one other person. I am not certain whether there is a connection, but you may want to have someone keep watch.”

Jiangche’s brow stirred imperceptibly. Well now — had she moved to compassion?

Being ill is such misery — dizzy, heavy, everything in a fog. Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.