Hearing what Cui Shi said, as though she had received a firm and powerful reassurance, the stiff expression Lang Zhengping had been wearing finally loosened a little. But the moment he thought of old Master Zhao passing away, his brow creased again. He glanced toward Lang Jiuchuan, who was lost in a daze, and cleared his throat.

Lang Jiuchuan was still puzzling over what the Gong Family and “dao gen” even were. She had a vague sense of familiarity with those words, yet she could not recall anything at all.

She really did need to find that lost soul of hers.

It was only when she suddenly heard Lang Zhengping call her name that she snapped back to the present.

Lang Zhengping looked at her and said, “There is an old saying: calamity comes from the mouth. Even if a curse has no real basis and is quite absurd, the fact that you spoke those ill words is undeniable — and it is something most people consider a grave taboo. What is more, old Master Zhao’s death came so suddenly that it could be said your words proved prophetic. The Zhao Family may very well harbor certain thoughts about this. If you know anything, you ought to speak up, so we can think of a way to manage the situation and avoid the two families becoming enemies.”

Lang Jiuchuan laughed. “Why not just come out and say I have a cursed mouth!”

Lang Zhengping’s hand jerked; even the moustache at the corners of his mouth trembled with anger. His eyes went wide as bronze bells, and he gripped his teacup lid, about to fling it at her in his usual manner of scolding the children — but the moment his hand moved, it was held down.

He looked down, following the hand that stopped him, and saw it was Fan Shi, who shook her head at him and shot him a meaningful look.

Restrain yourself. You are only her great-uncle. It is not yet your place to lose your temper when her own birth mother is sitting right here.

Lang Zhengping drew a deep breath. He would endure. He endured until his chest ached.

But Cui Shi did not disappoint him. Sure enough, her face darkened and she scolded sharply, “What kind of attitude is this? How do you speak to your elders? Where are your manners?”

“Madam asks a fine question — where are my manners?”

Cui Shi’s expression shifted. “You—!”

Fan Shi saw the two of them locked in a spat and quickly rose to her feet, saying, “Alright, alright, sister-in-law, calm your anger — the child is still young.”

Cui Shi’s chest heaved up and down, her lips pressed into a thin, straight line.

Lang Jiuchuan found it all rather tedious. She looked at Lang Zhengping and said, “Do not worry about the Zhao Family. They came today and did not do anything to me, and they will not bring up this matter again from here on. They will actually be thanking me. Just wait and see.”

With that, she rose to her feet, gave a slight incline of her head, and walked out.

Look at that manner — as if no one else existed. This girl they had brought back had not only grown a spine from head to toe, she was a thorny piece of work!

Lang Zhengpeng, who had not spoken the entire time, shook his head. This niece of his was truly difficult to manage — there would be headaches ahead.

But for now, it was not the moment to be focused on Lang Jiuchuan. Family matters came first.

“Elder brother, after what happened today — should we not have everyone in the household seal their mouths tight? If word gets out, it will not reflect well on the Marquis’s residence. If it reaches the Imperial household’s ears, they will likely think we cannot even govern our own home properly, that we have lost both our filial piety and our honour…”

Lang Zhengping curled his fingers and rapped the tabletop, thought for a moment, then said, “No. We will not suppress this. It can spread — not only that, I am going to enter the palace and weep.”

Everyone was taken aback, not quite understanding.

“The child who cries gets a sweet. The Lang Family is already weakened and declining. With Father’s passing, we are drifting even further from the center of the court. And yet, despite all that, someone still uses such vicious means against us — it could be called nothing short of seeking our complete destruction.” Lang Zhengping said with a cold face. “Scheming and rivalry among powerful court factions are commonplace, but resorting to such a sinister and unorthodox method is something the Imperial household will not tolerate — it is a grave taboo.”

Lang Zhengpeng nodded in agreement.

“When we must show weakness, we show weakness. In any case, we will be in mourning for several years — using those years to keep a low profile and nurture strength is not a bad thing. The next generation must also be carefully cultivated.” Lang Zhengping’s voice carried a note of desolation as he sighed, “Our family’s talent has a gaping hole in it. Without capable descendants stepping forward to carry things, we will fall even faster.”

Another stretch of silence fell over the room.

Who could argue otherwise? More than ten years ago, the Lang Family had at least produced one unconventional figure: Lang Zhengfan — a hero in his youth, yet he had not lived past thirty, dying young.

Now, in the generation of Lang Caimeng and the others, there were over ten young men and women between them, but not a single one was truly outstanding. Even Lang Caimeng, the eldest legitimate grandson, had only the title of a Juren to his name, and he was already twenty-one. Grandsons could be released from mourning after one year, but without passing the Jinshi examination, holding the rank of Juren and serving as an official — no matter how good his record — how could he ever rise above the fourth rank?

Lang Zhengping’s mood was heavy. He said, “Prepare yourselves. I will submit my name card to request an audience at the palace. This matter should be acted upon sooner rather than later.”

“Yes.”

Lang Jiuchuan came out of the study and did not return to the mourning hall — she was frail, after all.

All the way to Old Madam’s Kangshou Courtyard, she kept turning over the words “Gong Family” and “dao gen,” feeling she had heard them somewhere before, yet unable to recall where.

Ah, this useless brain of hers!

Lang Jiuchuan yanked at her own hair, then came to an abrupt halt — because someone had darted out in front of her.

Jian Lan, walking behind Lang Jiuchuan, was also startled, and instinctively stepped in front of her, watching the figure opposite with wariness. “Who are you?”

Across from them stood a young man dressed in coarse cloth, his hair tied back with a strip of fabric, with fine and handsome features. He appeared somewhat flustered at nearly having collided with someone and took two steps back, bending at the waist with clasped hands. “This student’s name is Liu Ming. My apologies.”

Jian Lan looked him up and down, frowning. “You’re one of the students from the South Courtyard — how did you find your way here?”

Prominent families in the capital typically housed their resident students and advisors, and the Marquis of Kaiping’s residence was no exception. The South Courtyard, with its own separate gate, was designated for exactly such people — yet this one had wandered all the way to the main courtyard.

“This student meant to pay his respects to the old Marquis,” Liu Ming said with some embarrassment. “But I took a wrong turn. I also nearly bumped into the young lady — I am truly ashamed.”

That last remark was addressed to Lang Jiuchuan, accompanied by a deep, gentlemanly bow.

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow, stepped forward, gave him a careful look, then turned to Jian Lan and said, “Have someone throw him out. Don’t let him near the mourning hall — he would defile the old master’s sight.”

Jian Lan stared blankly. “…?”

Liu Ming stood there stiffly, staring at Lang Jiuchuan. This was not at all how he had imagined things would go.

Lang Jiuchuan’s face was full of contempt as she gave a cold laugh. “Having a crooked heart is one thing, but you haven’t even gotten rid of that reeking, foxy, flirtatious stench on you, and you still dare to pay your respects to the old Marquis? Are you trying to die?”

Liu Ming’s heart was pounding wildly, his face flushing red. He wanted to argue back.

But Lang Jiuchuan had absolutely no intention of entertaining his nonsense. She said to Jian Lan, “Why haven’t you moved yet?”

Jian Lan let out a startled sound, and before she could even act, Liu Ming — his face burning with humiliation — said, “I merely lost my way, yet how can the young lady insult me like this? It is true that I am a student of the Marquis’s residence, but that does not mean I am someone who can be humiliated at will.”

Lang Jiuchuan laughed. “You rushed up here because you wanted to climb your way into a prestigious connection, didn’t you? If you can’t even withstand this mild slight, how are you going to climb anything? Does Wu Jing’s high society really go for someone who puts on a front of righteous indignation?”

“You—!”

Lang Jiuchuan finished speaking and walked away. Jian Lan flagged down a servant and had him escorted out.

Liu Ming was so furious he stamped his feet. Before he had set out from the South Courtyard, his neighbour He Chao had been secretly laughing at him for daydreaming — and sure enough.

But this Ninth Young Lady had been brought back from the countryside, hadn’t she? How was she more difficult to deal with than any sheltered daughter of a noble household, with that sharp tongue of hers? Clearly, growing up in the countryside meant she had received no proper upbringing at all.

When the area finally quieted, several figures emerged from the shadows.

Lang Zhengping said to the steward beside him, “Go and look into that Liu Ming. If anything is amiss, throw him out.”

“Yes.”

Lang Zhengpeng furrowed both brows. “Elder brother, are you saying — that after hearing what Ninth Young Lady said, you also think that student was trying to climb into a prestigious connection?”

Lang Zhengping gave a cold snort. “Wandering off the path at this hour of the evening — not even a girl would believe that excuse. Any deep-dwelling young lady with a thinner skin might have been completely taken in.”

What a pity for him, then — he ran straight into one with a sharp tongue who had no concern for anyone’s wellbeing. He ran headlong into a wall of iron!