Lang Jiuchuan appeared, as expected, at the Lang Family’s Lantern Festival banquet. She sat at the table of younger family members, and seeing everyone staring at her, she curved her lips into a decidedly eerie smile.

Glrk.

Someone hiccupped — not from being full, but from being startled.

Heavens. In ordinary times she’s impossible to find, like a dragon’s head with no tail, and now she appears out of nowhere and pulls this ghostly act on everyone — who is she trying to frighten?

Jiangche crouched on her shoulder. “At least try to act like a person. These are all just young ones with no experience. Their mouths may run, but they’ve never truly done anything to you — why frighten them?”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “Descendants of military merit and valor, with the courage of a mouse. How are they to follow in the footsteps of their forebears and win glory through both civil and martial distinction?”

“And they’re supposed to thank you for it?”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a light huff. “People must stand on their own. To rely solely on the protection of their ancestors — how long can that last?”

A household abundant in numbers but lacking in talent — how could the family ever grow powerful enough to withstand pressure from outside?

Just like the Kaiping Marquis estate: the lack of talent had persisted for so long, and the family had remained in obscurity for so many years. If this generation still failed to exert themselves, sooner or later they would meet the fate of a wall plastered over with filth.

This was something she had already said to Lang Zhengping — and now, here at the banquet, he was saying it himself.

“Since you are all in mourning and cannot go out, this is a fine opportunity to train your bodies and learn martial arts with the martial instructor. Today is the Lantern Festival — I’ll let you relax for one more day. From the seventeenth onward, the martial instructor will enter the manor, and you will begin training under his guidance.” Lang Zhengping smiled at the young men of the household. “Not an ordinary tutor — a genuine martial arts instructor.”

He had recruited this man from a caravan escort company. The man had fallen afoul of the escort company’s heir and been dismissed — Lang Zhengping had snapped him up at the right moment to serve as their martial instructor.

The instructor’s surname was genuinely Wu, meaning “martial.” He was as strong as an ox, built like a fortress, with excellent martial skills — particularly with the long spear and curved blade, which he could wield with dazzling flair. His only flaw was that he was too rigid and unyielding, unable to adapt to circumstances, which was how he had offended his employer and gotten himself dismissed.

The young men of the Lang Family all let out cries of dismay. Lang Caizhao, accustomed to being the most pampered treasure of the first branch and something of a little tyrant, protested, “Father, news this dreadful — how could you keep it from us without a word, and choose the Lantern Festival of all times to stab us in the heart?”

Lang Zhengping kept a stern face. “It is precisely because of that attitude of yours that I kept it quiet until now.” He looked across the table of young men. “The ancestors of our Lang Family earned their honors on horseback. You carry the blood of the Lang clan — you should carry on the aspirations of those who came before. Learn both the civil and martial arts, and make yourselves of use to the emperor.”

Lang Caizhao’s face fell.

“As for the eldest, and the fourth, and the sixth — even if you temporarily cannot attend the academy, you must not grow lax in your studies. You will also train with the martial instructor to build your physical foundations and set a good example for your younger brothers.” Lang Zhengping looked at Lang Caimeng. “When you sit for the imperial examinations, the final session lasts nine days. Without a strong body, you won’t even hold your brush to the end — what then? A man who excels in both the civil and martial arts is a fine reputation to have.”

Lang Caimeng and Lang Caizheng immediately rose and cupped their hands. “We respectfully obey Father’s command.”

Lang Zhengping gave a satisfied nod. His gaze moved to the young women of the household who had not yet been promised in marriage, first landing on Lang Jiuchuan — who wore the expression of someone who fully intended to have nothing whatsoever to do with any of this — before he turned to address Lang Caiyao and the others. “You sisters, apply yourselves diligently under the nannies’ guidance in etiquette and needlework.”

Lang Caiyao caught the meaning beneath those words, and her cheeks flushed a sudden red.

Lang Cailing glanced deliberately in Lang Jiuchuan’s direction, her tone pointed. “Father, what about those who go out of the manor?”

The table went quiet.

The younger boys all looked over, wearing the expressions of people eager to watch a spectacle unfold.

Lang Zhengping cleared his throat. “Going out of the manor for legitimate reasons is entirely permissible — one simply needs to inform one’s elders.”

“Is Cailing wishing to go out?” Lady Fan looked toward Chen Yiniang. “Once you leave mourning, a marriage match will need to be discussed. During the mourning period, one simply cannot afford to give people cause to look down on you.”

It was both a warning and a reminder: if you stir up a bad reputation while still in mourning, what prospects for a match will you have?

Lang Zhengping nodded. “Your mother is right.”

Lang Cailing’s face drained of color. She lowered her head, her voice trembling. “Father, Mother — your daughter will stay obediently in the manor and observe mourning.”

Lang Jiuchuan paid Lang Cailing’s little schemes no mind whatsoever. She simply turned to look at Pan Shi, seated beside her, letting her gaze sweep across Pan Shi’s face and abdomen. “Sister-in-law Four is at six months, is that right?”

Pan Shi had been quietly eating her meal. Hearing this, she quickly set down her chopsticks, touched her abdomen gently, and replied, “Half a month more, and it will be seven.”

“You look considerably thinner than before, and the child is growing slowly. Have you been eating only vegetarian food? Or is the child being restless?” Lang Jiuchuan frowned, studying her face. Compared to their first meeting, she had lost a noticeable amount of weight. Then, her face had been round as a silver plate; now, her jaw had come to a point. For a pregnancy of nearly seven months, she looked no more than five.

Pan Shi touched her face, and something quietly stirred within her. She said softly, “I have been having some herbal broth with ginseng.”

In mourning and as a concubine-born daughter-in-law, she did not dare violate the mourning protocols — she could not openly eat meat.

Lang Jiuchuan took her hand and placed two fingers on her pulse. The cool touch of those fingertips made Pan Shi flinch involuntarily, nearly pulling her hand back — but sensing the kindness in the gesture, she bore it.

“Have some meat broth when appropriate.” Lang Jiuchuan looked at Lang Zhengping and Lady Fan. “Observing mourning is one thing — but there is no reason to observe it so strictly that we neglect the living. Sister-in-law Four carries the Lang Family’s bloodline. Eating strictly vegetarian is harmful for both her and the child. Eating meat to protect the pregnancy — surely Grandfather in the heavens would not take offense. Have her copy a sutra of filial piety in her spare time as an offering to Grandfather — that should be sufficient.”

Lang Zhengping noticed that Pan Shi truly had lost a great deal of weight, and hurriedly said to Lady Fan, “That is right — have the kitchen prepare a separate portion for her.”

“It was an oversight on my part.” Lady Fan’s expression was somewhat abashed.

Pan Shi quickly rose to her feet. “Mother, please don’t say that — you have always looked after me so well. The manor physician comes every three days to take my peace pulse. It was I who wished to observe mourning a few extra days for Grandfather, and followed along with the vegetarian diet on my own.”

“It is as a Buddha kept in the heart — piety is not measured by never leaving the inner quarters, nor by abstaining from meat. True piety is neither blind obedience in the name of filial duty, nor compliance that goes against one’s better sense. It is being present at a parent’s side while they yet live — keeping them warm and well-fed, accompanying them in their daily lives, asking after their comfort in the cold and warmth.” Lang Jiuchuan said. “And this applies not only to you — those in the household who are frail and unwell are the same. Those with weakened constitutions should be given meat and nourishment in due measure. Do not torment the body in the name of piety — that is not honoring the departed. It troubles their souls. No departed soul wishes to see their descendants damage their very life essence for the sake of one who has already ascended to the heavens. You may grieve — but do not drown in sorrow.”

Silence. The drop of a needle could be heard.

The younger members stared at Lang Jiuchuan with wide eyes. She truly said whatever she pleased — how was this any different from overturning long-established custom? Though they themselves also craved a bit of meat, they would only dare think it quietly in their own hearts.

Cui Shi’s hand around her chopsticks was trembling faintly, her lips pressed into a thin, taut line.

Lang Jiuchuan looked again at Pan Shi. “Your pulse is thin and hesitant — the qi and blood are in disharmony, and the fetal foundation is malnourished. I imagine the manor physician has prescribed a stabilizing tonic — but a stabilizing tonic cannot provide nourishment. If you continue eating only vegetarian, you will not be able to hold on to this child.”

Pan Shi’s face went white, and she swayed slightly.

Lang Jiuchuan steadied her, then looked at Lang Zhengping. “Please invite a skilled physician specializing in women’s medicine to take her pulse.”

Lady Fan’s face also went pale. How could this be?

Lang Zhengping’s heart lurched, his lips twitching. Grand-niece, did you forget that your mouth has been blessed?