In the end, Song Niang never did manage to scatter the ashes. By the time they arrived, Luo Chan’s body had already been torn apart and gnawed into scattered pieces by the stray dogs of the unclaimed burial grounds. Only half a face remained recognizable.

Even so, Song Niang snapped a willow branch into a makeshift whip and fell upon the remains in a frenzy, lashing them over and over while cursing at the top of her lungs — tears and weeping filling the entire grove with raw, mournful fury.

Lang Jiuchuan stood to one side in cold silence, staring at the body. Her fingers curled into a fist. She found herself thinking of this body she now inhabited — just a few months ago, it had also been lying in an unclaimed burial ground, with stray dogs prowling hungrily around it.

She walked out of that dim grove. Turning to face the light, she closed her eyes and drew in a long, deep breath, trying to let the sunlight drive away the fierceness and darkness welling inside her.

Song Niang’s weeping gradually lessened, until it fell completely silent. Only then did she hear footsteps behind her.

Lang Jiuchuan turned her head slightly. She burned a talisman of banishment and cleansing on Song Niang’s behalf, and said only two words: “Let’s go.”

Song Niang followed silently behind her, her steps light.

By the time they returned to the city, it was already the second quarter of the shen hour. Lang Jiuchuan sent Song Niang back to the Wanshi Shop and was stopped by Fuwu — the Spirit Witch wanted to see her.

Lang Jiuchuan frowned, but went to the firewood room all the same.

When the door opened, a foul stench wafted out — blood and rawness, the smell of decay, and something rankly putrid beneath it all.

The Spirit Witch lay collapsed on a pile of firewood, her hair loose and tangled. At the sound of the door, she raised her head and fixed her gaze on Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan looked down at her from above: “You wanted to see me. Speak — what defense do you intend to make?”

The Spirit Witch kept staring at her, head tilted, expression oscillating between bewilderment and hatred. She did not speak.

Lang Jiuchuan turned to leave.

Bargaining with her was a fool’s dream!

“Stop!” The Spirit Witch cried out: “Are you surnamed Lang?”

Lang Jiuchuan’s expression deepened. She turned back. “Say what you have to say directly.”

“Let me go, and I’ll tell you a secret.” Something like a faint gleam stirred in the Spirit Witch’s now-clouded eyes.

“What secret could you possibly have that would be worth trading against other people’s lives?” Lang Jiuchuan mocked. “A person like you is like a worm in the mud — cut into several pieces, but as long as there’s soil, it will regenerate. And you — as long as there are people and insects, you can renew your life. But on what grounds?”

The Spirit Witch’s eyes flickered rapidly. “What if it concerns your father’s death? Is a rotten life like mine worth that trade?”

Fuwu beside them gave a sharp start, and looked toward Lang Jiuchuan. Jiangche went even further — she came dashing out from within Lang Jiuchuan’s mind.

Lang Jiuchuan felt something sink in her chest. But her expression did not change. “Not worth it.”

The Spirit Witch was taken aback.

So were Fuwu and the others. The other party was claiming that, which suggested Lang Zhengping’s death had some other layer to it — yet Lang Jiuchuan showed not a flicker of interest?

The Spirit Witch was equally baffled. Could she have been mistaken? The surname Lang was rare, but she knew one — a young general, the direct superior of Xie Zhenming.

This young woman before her resembled that person so strongly — especially those eyes. Last night she had already noticed how beautiful they were, felt she had seen them somewhere before. She had spent the whole night trying to recall, and it was only when she heard the people outside call her “Miss Lang” that she remembered.

Wasn’t it that general? What was his name — she seemed to recall he came from a distinguished family too?

Lang Jiuchuan looked at the Spirit Witch and said: “To survive, you must have already constructed your full speech by now. Let me guess what you intend to say. It’s nothing more than: my father’s death was not an ordinary death in battle — he died by another’s hand. And who that person might be is easy enough to guess — the Zhenbei Marquis, isn’t it?”

The Spirit Witch’s pupils contracted sharply.

Lang Jiuchuan kept her expression trained on the Spirit Witch, tucking her fingers quietly into her sleeve. “My father was a general and commander. Who benefited most from his death is the one who caused it. The Zhenbei Marquis was my father’s deputy general — with my father gone, he stepped into that role. He has now been granted the title of Marquis, having leapt across an entire class and transformed his station entirely.”

The Spirit Witch’s expression darkened.

“And as for how my father died — you made a deal with the Zhenbei Marquis, did you not? You gave him a Gu insect. My father would never have been on guard against someone he trusted like a brother. Completely undefended, he was struck with Gu. On the battlefield, when the Gu activated, my father ‘died in battle’ — and nothing could be traced.”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a cold laugh: “As part of the agreement, the Zhenbei Marquis sheltered you. Is that about right? The secret you’ve been holding — I’ve just spoken it aloud. Can it still be called a secret?”

The Spirit Witch: “You’re quite good at making things up.”

“And you haven’t denied any of it,” Lang Jiuchuan countered, pressing closer. “Here is my offer: tell me what you know, and when I have the Xuan Clan’s people take you to the Enforcement Hall, I’ll ask them to go easy. Those who follow the righteous path will likely only have you refine Gu insects or transcribe Gu texts.”

The Spirit Witch narrowed her eyes. “You’re bluffing. You have no evidence that your fabrication is fact.”

“I don’t need evidence. Your face told me — my father’s death is absolutely connected to the Zhenbei Marquis.” Lang Jiuchuan said evenly. “In truth, I have an even simpler method. I can search your soul.”

The Spirit Witch shuddered.

Lang Jiuchuan clapped her hands, as though she had just thought of a wonderful solution. “Ah — that’s actually the best way to handle you. Search your soul, and you’ll be reduced to a simpleton. After that, you won’t be able to refine Gu to harm people even if you wanted to. Hand a simpleton over to the Xuan Clan’s Enforcement Hall — I haven’t killed anyone. Perfect. That’s what we’ll do!”

The Spirit Witch: “……”

People said she was wicked — but the girl in front of her was even more wicked!

Could this young woman truly be the descendant of that general who shone like the sun?

“General, Jiangche — restrain her.”

The Spirit Witch immediately felt two ferocious, crushing auras of killing energy encircle her completely. Her head felt as though something had pressed down hard upon it, and Lang Jiuchuan’s hand was reaching toward her divine mind.

No. This could not happen.

With her life-bonded Gu destroyed, she had already suffered the backlash. She was at the very end of her strength — her current divine soul could not possibly withstand this demoness’s soul-searching.

To become a simpleton — she would truly have no chance at all.

The Spirit Witch prostrated herself on the ground. The moment Lang Jiuchuan’s hand touched her forehead, she felt the force emanating from that palm — she was not bluffing. In an instant, she cried out: “It was a Heart-Devouring Gu!”

Lang Jiuchuan’s hand paused. Their eyes locked.

The Spirit Witch said urgently: “The Zhenbei Marquis had shown me a kindness. In exchange, I gave him a Heart-Devouring Gu, which he used on that general — that is why the arrow wound never healed. I held that secret over him, and that is how I compelled him to provide me with the means to cultivate Gu. And — I also gave him a Passion Gu. As for where he used it, I don’t know.”

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow: “To save your life, you certainly know how to implicate others.”

The Spirit Witch covered her face: “You’ve already reduced me to this state. My life is nearly forfeit. What more do I have to implicate? When a person faces death, their words are true.”

“Others, perhaps — when they face death, their words ring true. But you are clever as a fox. As long as there is even a thread of hope to live, you will seize it without fail.” Lang Jiuchuan straightened. She looked down at the Spirit Witch from her full height. “And in truth, there’s something even more convenient about your tale: you want me at odds with the Zhenbei Marquis — so that the Marquis will be the one to deal with me.”

The Spirit Witch’s throat constricted. She rasped with ragged, labored breathing. How could this person be so guarded — refusing to believe even the truth?

“What I’m saying is true.”

“Whether true or false — I will be the one to determine that!” Lang Jiuchuan’s hand slammed down against her divine mind. Her spiritual force surged, and the tremendous power drove straight into the Spirit Witch’s divine mind.

She began the soul-search.