Jiangche could not understand how Lang Jiuchuan could be so bold — showing that half-portrait to Gong Tinglan upon their very first meeting. Was she not afraid he might become wholly devoted to standing on the same side?

“With your cautious and careful nature, you shouldn’t trust someone this much on a first meeting!”

Lang Jiuchuan smiled faintly. “Half a portrait — what can it truly represent? Consider this: in the eyes of this woman called Xi Yun, I am nothing but a foreign soul that has possessed this body. She can simply turn a blind eye, pretend nothing ever happened. Most importantly — she does not know what I know.”

If Xi Yun was truly the one who had acted against her, she would know better than anyone else the condition of this body. Whether the soul within her was truly the original or not was no secret to Xi Yun — there was nothing to expose or conceal.

“In Xi Yun’s eyes, I am simply a wandering spirit that has possessed a body — an unkillable evil ghost, nothing more.” Lang Jiuchuan continued, “But does anyone out there know what she has done? By letting the Young Master examine the portrait, I was following a private motive — to see if anyone could truly recognize the person — and also to plant a seed of suspicion in the Young Master’s mind.”

Jiangche stared at her.

“And look — an unexpected windfall. The Fourth Madam of the Rong Family, Xi Yun, mother of the young mistress of the Rong household — what a position of honor.” Lang Jiuchuan pinched the half-portrait between her fingers. “Then the question arises: why would a woman of such exalted standing want to so thoroughly destroy a military general’s daughter? Young Master Gong doesn’t know — but he will wonder. He’ll ask himself how I came to have half a portrait and why I was searching for this person. What connection does the person he recognizes as the Rong Fourth Madam have to me? Once human curiosity is stirred, people begin to notice small details they would otherwise overlook. Who knows what greater surprises might be waiting for us?”

Jiangche said, “You are leading Young Master Gong to investigate why Xi Yun did what she did?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. “Word has it the Young Master has not yet married, and nor has the young mistress of the Rong Family. You mentioned that the Xuan clan has a tradition of intermarriage — especially among those with cultivating roots — and that they do not permit unions with outsiders, lest the bloodline be altered. Do you think these two families might have prospects of a marriage alliance? Though this was our first meeting — don’t let that serene, otherworldly, gentlemanly appearance fool you. That man has a rebellious bone in him.”

“Mm. The Gong Family’s son is indeed rather of the same kind as you.” Jiangche remarked without any sense of self-preservation.

Lang Jiuchuan shot it a glare. “He’s this age and still unmarried — either he is unwilling to be arranged for by his elders and tradition, or simply hasn’t taken a liking to anyone. I am casting a brick to draw jade. If an unexpected gain comes of it, all the better. I will get what I want — and tell me, do you think Young Master Gong will have thoughts about the Rong Family?”

“Understood — the Estrangement Stratagem.” Jiangche nodded with great solemnity. “Your heart truly is as black as a crow’s feathers.”

“Will you be quiet! I only asked him to help identify someone — I harbor no ill intent whatsoever!”

Right. Did you even believe those words as you said them?

Lang Jiuchuan said no more. Her footsteps suddenly slowed, and she sat cross-legged, forming a seal with great excitement, placing both hands on her knees and receiving it with composure.

The karmic merit earned from vanquishing the demon had arrived.

The Lantern Festival — because the case of the young lady from Zhongyong Marquis’s estate who had died a tragic and inexplicable death had yet to be resolved, what ought to have been a joyous and bustling holiday was quieter and more subdued than in previous years. Young women in particular did not dare venture out alone, afraid of meeting the same fate as the young miss of the Qi Family. And so this year’s Lantern Festival carried a heavy, stifled air.

The Lang Family, however, was unaffected. As they were in deep mourning, there would naturally be no grand celebrations. Simply to ease their restlessness, they had painted a few riddles on plain-colored lanterns and planned to stroll out in the evening to admire them and guess a riddle or two — enough to mark the occasion.

What they talked about most was the elusive and ever-absent Lang Jiuchuan — the “village girl” who had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Since her return, the number of times anyone had caught a glimpse of her could be counted on one hand. Sometimes, if one deliberately walked past her courtyard, she could not be found even then. Jian Lan kept saying she was recuperating and not to disturb her — but they secretly suspected she had slipped out again.

This was deeply unfair. Everyone else was behaving themselves, staying in the manor for mourning, bored half to madness — on what grounds did she get to wander in and out as she pleased, as though she had no leash at all? And yet no one had a word to say against her. The Second Aunt, who spent her days in widowed Buddhist devotion, said nothing. The family head, Great Uncle, said nothing either — he even scolded them on her behalf.

Lang Cailing and the rest of the younger generation were baffled. Why was she so favored? Just because she had lived on the estate for over ten years, she was now free to do as she liked? If she decided to rip the tiles off the roof, would they be expected to hand her the ladder?

“That — isn’t that Lang Nine? How did she just appear out of nowhere?” Lang Caiyi bit down on a piece of maltose candy, staring at Lang Jiuchuan, who had materialized seemingly from thin air in front of her courtyard gate, eyes going round as bells. The maltose candy dropped from his mouth.

Lang Jiuchuan waved her hand at someone behind her, as though bidding farewell to an invisible presence, then turned her head and fixed them with a dark, eerie stare, raising one stiff hand in greeting.

The yin energy had not yet fully dispersed from her body. In broad daylight, she had appeared and vanished like a specter — and paired with her ashen-pale complexion and bruised, shadowed eyes, she looked every bit a ghost.

Everyone: “—!”

They watched as the group screamed and scattered in all directions like startled birds, leaving behind a scattered array of plain-colored lanterns that the wind rolled to Lang Jiuchuan’s feet.

Lang Jiuchuan gave a light snort, picked up one of the lanterns, and let out a disdainful sound. “Pathetic.”

Jiangche rolled its eyes. Lucky for them, the entrance to the yin passage had not opened directly in front of those people — otherwise, the freshly-earned merit would have had to be forfeited.

Does scaring someone to death not count as a debt to repay?

At Qichi Pavilion, Cui Shi heard that Lang Jiuchuan had returned. She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Serve the meal.”

Nanny Cheng could barely contain her delight. Finally — she could call for a meal proactively.

West Quarter, Xunxiang Alley.

Zhuang Quanhai stared up at the newly hung shop sign with a furrowed brow, and let out a long sigh.

Ding Mangu came out from inside the shop, and his brow twitched the moment he heard that sigh. “Old Zhuang, since the shop opened, your sighing is going to bring the snow down.”

Zhuang Quanhai said, “You don’t understand. The shop has been open for a few days now — but look. Never mind customers; even passersby are few.”

Ding Mangu said gravely, “Because of that incident, Wu Jing has been on edge lately, and people are not venturing out much — especially young women. Once it’s all resolved, things will settle.”

Zhuang Quanhai shuddered slightly, understanding what he meant — it was nothing other than the matter of the young lady from Zhongyong Marquis’s estate meeting her death. Seeing the weight of grief in his old friend’s eyes, he patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. The truth will come to light someday, and Su Qiu’s name will be cleared. Look — the sky is clear today, a fine holiday. I have a feeling that the clouds are parting and the light is breaking through.”

“Let us hope so.” Ding Mangu wiped at his eyes. “Whenever I think of what she must have gone through, my heart feels like it’s being stabbed. If she truly died the same way as the Qi young miss, how terrified she must have been.”

“At least Zhuo Yu paid with his life as well.” Zhuang Quanhai offered up a dry attempt at comfort.

Ding Mangu’s eyes filled with bitter hatred. “He got into bed with a tiger and ended up as the tiger’s meal. He died too easily — far too easy a death for him.”

“The fact that you came out of it whole and intact was already a stroke of fortune.”

Ding Mangu drew in a deep breath, and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, both of them tilting their heads back to look at the shop’s sign. “So you need not fret. This shop will not lack for patrons.”

The proprietor was a person of remarkable ability. How could there be no patrons?

Zhuang Quanhai nodded. Then suddenly his entire body went rigid. He looked around, one hand clutching the jade pendant at his chest — it had grown faintly warm. His upper and lower teeth chattered together as he asked, trembling, “Is it — is it a ghost patron?”

Ding-ling.

The wind chime hanging in front of the shop — ancient and unassuming — swayed without any wind, releasing a clear, crisp sound, as if deliberating.

“Wanshi Shop — the shop that resolves all matters?” A sigh drifted and rippled through the alley.