The moment Gong Qi left Tongtian Pavilion, A’Piao looked at Lang Jiuchuan’s pallid little face, saw that her brow was knitted, and extended his hand. Resting in his palm was an antique-looking bell.

“Do not worry about the Xuan Clan stabbing us in the back. If they dare do so and leave that disaster behind, they will surely bring suffering upon themselves — the cause and effect will rebound upon them. And as for me, I will make certain to expose their shameless villainy to all under Heaven.” A’Piao said icily.

“What is this?” Lang Jiuchuan moved to reach for it.

A’Piao quickly closed his hand around it, looking as though he feared she would snatch it, and said smugly, “It is merely an Echo Bell — one that stores whatever is said nearby, and can replay it when the proper Daoist formula is applied.”

In other words, this Echo Bell had recorded the conversation they had just had.

“If the Xuan Clan truly dares to protect that thing, let them be utterly disgraced.”

Lang Jiuchuan raised a brow. “Tongtian Pavilion truly does have quite a number of fine things. Is there truly no way you could introduce me to your Pavilion Master?”

“Our Pavilion Master — do you think you can meet him just because you want to?” A’Piao regarded her with lofty disdain. “You had better focus on getting yourself well. Was it not said that this thing must die by your hand for you to be at ease? In the state you are in right now, how could you deal a killing blow to your opponent?”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “I cannot place all my hopes on the Xuan Clan — there is no telling whether they will handle things reliably. You are also an old ghost, and Tongtian Pavilion is the foremost intelligence organization in all the land. Help me look into the matter of the Cong Family’s founding elder from over a hundred years ago — and ideally, look into the Cong Family’s bloodline as well. Are there any members of the clan whose cultivation was rather impressive yet who were utterly obscure and unheard of? If we can establish his identity, we will be better prepared to deal with that Corpse Fiend.”

She thought about it — she seemed to have never dealt with a Corpse Fiend before, and did not know how to kill such a demonic evil. She would also need to look through the legacy of the Dharma Master to see if there were any techniques of this kind.

“Are you truly certain it is a member of the Cong Family?”

“From the bone structure, he does bear several points of resemblance to Cong Fuma,” Lang Jiuchuan said. “I do not know when he broke out of his coffin, nor whether he has been continuously fed on the essence and Yin vitality of pure Yin women — but if the unofficial history is accurate and he planted a fetus by coupling with a pure Yin woman, then at minimum nearly ten months have passed since then, and throughout that time, how many people might he have harmed?”

Her expression was cold and clear. “People harbor greed in their hearts; so too do ghost-fiends and demonic evils. Once an appetite is opened, it can never truly be filled. The young woman of the Qi Family is an example — her birth chart was not fully Yin, yet she was still victimized. This means his appetite has already begun to turn indiscriminate — mere essence and Yin souls are now enough for him.”

“So the number of people who have disappeared is far greater than those reported?” A’Piao’s spectral energy seeped outward, filling the room with a creeping chill. “Where did they find so many people to feed upon without being discovered? There must be a specific place where people are kept hidden — and likely where the bodies are concealed as well.”

In Lang Jiuchuan’s mind’s eye, that image surfaced again: the mountainous terrain, and one area where black energy was dense as ink — that would be the malevolent Yin energy.

“This place where people are kept must also be where the bodies are discarded. Dead people are thrown in one after another; over time it becomes a place of extreme malevolence — which also serves to nurture that Corpse Fiend.” Lang Jiuchuan trembled all over, her face growing even more ashen, as though she were seeing that charnel pit before her and hearing tens of thousands of grieving souls shrieking in agony.

Her spiritual soul convulsed in pain.

Lang Jiuchuan, hands shaking, tore the Dizhong Bell from her waist, bit down hard on the tip of her tongue, poured her Daoist will into the bell, and gave it a gentle shake.

The bell’s tone rang out like a soft, flowing Buddhist chant, soothing her wounded spiritual soul.

But by the time she finished, her brow was drenched in sweat once more.

“That mountain — have some of your lesser ghosts help look into where it might be located,” Lang Jiuchuan said.

“Understood.” A’Piao looked at her bloodless face. “You stop worrying about all this and go back home to recover. I’ll have someone escort you back to the residence.”

Lang Jiuchuan truly had no strength left to continue analyzing. She nodded limply.

This Heaven’s Punishment backlash, for someone whose spiritual soul was already incomplete, weighed far heavier than the time she had previously defied Heaven’s will to alter the fate of Ou Yu’an.

She returned to the Marquis’s residence, and her deathly pale face nearly frightened everyone in the courtyard out of their wits. Nanny Gu rushed about in a panic, about to go and fetch the household physician — but Lang Jiuchuan stopped her.

“I employed a Daoist technique and suffered a backlash. A household physician is of no use — I can only recover on my own.” This time Lang Jiuchuan did not conceal it from her, and not for any other reason than simply not wanting them to go and find a physician who would only disrupt her soul recovery.

After all, everyone in the household already knew she had some knowledge of the Dao — they just did not know the depth of her ability, and assumed she only had a smattering of superficial knowledge, not nearly enough to compare with the great masters.

She had not yet come of age, after all — however deep her cultivation, how deep could it really be?

Nanny Gu was bewildered. What was this about a Daoist technique backlash? She did not understand.

Jian Lan said simply, “Just do as the young miss says.”

Lang Jiuchuan instructed them not to disturb her, then went into the study, closed the door, and summoned the elemental soul of the Xiaojiu Pagoda within.

Nanny Gu grew anxious. “Is there truly no need to call the household physician?”

Jian Lan’s eyes also held worry, but she still shook her head. “The young miss knows what she is doing. We who serve can only follow the will of our mistress.”

Nanny Gu opened her mouth. “Then, what about Madam’s side of things?”

“She will find out.” After all, the news had come through the gatehouse.

Nanny Gu heaved a sigh. “Then I will go and trim some ginseng and brew a vegetarian broth.”

Jian Lan had not been wrong — Cui Shi did indeed learn from the gatehouse that Lang Jiuchuan had returned with a haggard complexion, yet no one from that courtyard had come to report to her. Matron Cheng, seeing the situation, went to inquire and was told it was a Daoist technique backlash. Cui Shi sat in a daze on the luohan couch and stared at the snow drifting past the window outside, a sensation of utter helplessness spreading through her whole body.

Matron Cheng watched her sit there in silence without a single word and could only pat her on the back in comfort. The estrangement between them had already taken root — how could it be so easily broken?

Inside the Xiaojiu Pagoda.

Lang Jiuchuan summoned Muyu and Jiang Che. What exactly had happened inside Tongtian Pavilion while she had been suffering Heaven’s Punishment?

Jiang Che was ridden with guilt, stammering and not uttering a word.

“What is it you are suspicious about?” Muyu countered with a question of its own.

Lang Jiuchuan narrowed her eyes. “A’Piao’s attitude toward me has changed.”

Before this, A’Piao would never have been so indulgent with her — he had always been on his guard, as though afraid she would take advantage of him. But after this divination, his attitude had shifted entirely. He gave her a top-grade Soul-Restoring Pill without hesitation, and whatever she said, he followed without resistance, behaving entirely as though she were one of his own.

Something must have happened while she had suffered Heaven’s Punishment and lost consciousness.

Jiang Che, pinned under her stare until his fur stood on end, said, “I — I don’t know either. You and I share the same body; when you suffered the punishment, I suffered it too. All I can remember is that a black shadow descended upon you, and there was nothing I could do.” It hung its head in dejection. “I’m sorry. I truly am useless.”

If that had been a genuine threat, Lang Jiuchuan would no longer exist right now.

Lang Jiuchuan turned to look at Muyu, who said, “I am merely a vessel spirit, and one who has slept for many years at that — I am pitifully weak. The Xiaojiu Pagoda was still within your soul, and when your spiritual soul shattered, the Xiaojiu Pagoda had no way to emerge — we were all suffering the torment of Heaven’s Punishment together.”

It glanced once at the raised lump on her forehead. It truly knew nothing.

Lang Jiuchuan touched the round little lump on her brow and narrowed her eyes, giving a cold smile. “Very well. Then I shall wait for him to come and explain it to me himself.”

Whoever this him was — it must be the person who had caused A’Piao’s change in attitude. None other than the legendary Pavilion Master of Tongtian Pavilion.