Jiangche did not wish to dwell on such sorrowful thoughts. He changed the subject and told of his search for a physical form — how he had wandered all the way to the Qishan Mountain Range before encountering a tigress who had completed her cultivation but failed her heavenly tribulation while giving birth. Yet when the little tiger cub dropped to the ground, it drew a celestial tribulation of its own, which Jiangche found utterly puzzling.

“A tiger, fox, or dragon that has completed cultivation and wishes to undergo tribulation must also receive a proper consecration from another in order to successfully pass through the heavenly trial and advance further. If they fail, they end up just as you did.” Lang Jiuchuan said, “The tigress likely failed her tribulation because she did not receive a true consecration. With no other recourse, she poured all of her remaining life force and spiritual power into the cub — both to escape the obliteration of the Heavenly Way and to preserve the flame of her lineage.”

She lightly tapped the top of his head. “But the Heavenly Way is not so easily evaded. Your body absorbed so much spiritual power from the mother — how could it not take a portion of that back? And furthermore, you are a strand of White Tiger spiritual consciousness, lurking there and waiting. Spiritual consciousness entering the spiritual altar to awaken intelligence — if you did not pass through this tribulation, how could a newborn tiger cub already possess spiritual power and spiritual awareness, and be able to speak in human tongue?”

For a beast to speak in human language, it must have cultivated for many years and gained spiritual awareness. To be able to speak the moment one is born, with a strand of spiritual consciousness already inhabiting the body — that kind of fortune does not come without passing through a heavenly tribulation.

Jiangche was stunned. “It involved me as well?”

“You are both mutually complementary. This is the one chance the Heavenly Way has granted you both — whether you can seize it is up to you.” Lang Jiuchuan said evenly, “Jiangche, there is no shortcut in cultivation. It necessarily requires a long passage of time — bit by bit, little by little — to advance one’s cultivation and accumulate spiritual power. You have already cultivated for five hundred years. You know better than anyone how long it took before you gained enlightenment and were granted the opportunity to undergo the heavenly tribulation and transform into a divine beast.”

Jiangche fell silent, recalling those years alone in the mountains. The memories were hazy now, but he remembered never once having been idle — only to have it all come to naught in the end.

“Now, your physical form was born already awakened in spirit and intelligence, precisely because you endured and passed that first trial. From this point forward, you must cultivate diligently.” Lang Jiuchuan looked into his golden tiger eyes with uncharacteristic seriousness and said, “Jiangche, of all the living things that walk the path of cultivation — plants, animals — none have a harder road than human beings. Let that be your guide.”

Jiangche was moved. Just as he was about to deliver a rousing declaration of determination, her next words arrived.

“Cultivate diligently. Grow thick, lustrous fur as quickly as possible — otherwise you’re terribly unpleasant to touch.”

Jiangche withdrew his feeling of being moved with great dignity. This woman did not deserve it.

Upon checking on Cui Shi, who was deep in slumber, Lang Jiuchuan went to see how the Inspectorate was handling matters. Perhaps fearing that she would create further havoc, the Fang mother and son had already been escorted out of Huguo Temple — word had it they were being sent to the Inspectorate’s offices within the city.

Gong Qi had sent word advising her to be careful.

Lang Jiuchuan quickly understood what he meant. It was like a child losing a fight and calling the parents to sort things out.

She looked at the yellow-robed Daoist standing across from her — a man approaching sixty years of age, with long white eyebrows and a white beard, yet with a ruddy complexion — and broke into a laugh.

How wonderful it was to have someone watching over you.

“So you are the wicked creature who laid hands on my disciple?” the yellow-robed Daoist said, his gaze sinister, his cheekbones sharp and prominent, the very picture of someone not to be trifled with.

Opening with such nonsense — Lang Jiuchuan found it rather tiresome.

Elder Wanfang saw Lang Jiuchuan’s utterly unruly expression and his aged face darkened. “Your true body died long ago. You have forcibly seized another’s flesh and blood to linger in the mortal realm, yet instead of keeping a low profile and remaining humble, you run rampant in the mundane world. Do you truly believe there is no one who can deal with you?”

Lang Jiuchuan heard this and slowly raised her head, her gaze cold and piercing. “You say I died, that I am a wandering spirit that has seized another’s body. You speak with such certainty — did you divine this yourself, or did someone tell you?”

Elder Wanfang’s eyes flickered rapidly. He drew out a seven-starred peachwood sword and leveled it at her. “Wicked creature, quickly vacate this woman’s body. Out of consideration that you have not taken a life, I shall send you on your way to reincarnation.”

Lang Jiuchuan lowered her eyes and murmured, “I had only wanted to keep my head down and live quietly. Yet the Rong Family has pushed me step by step without cease, coming again and again to make my life wretched. Then do not blame me for running rampant.”

Her words had not yet fully fallen before the tip of her foot touched the ground and she launched into the air, her hand sweeping upward as a talisman paper appeared and shot toward him like a dart.

Elder Wanfang’s pupils contracted sharply. He spun his body and blasted backward several steps, his sleeves billowing as they came up to block.

Boom.

The thunder talisman struck the ground where he had just been standing. Shards of stone exploded outward, some grazing his face and drawing blood.

Such power could only come from a Five Thunder Talisman. Had he been even slightly slower, he would have been blasted apart like those shards of stone.

This woman’s very first move was a killing strike. Truly vicious.

“Venomous by nature — you cannot be left alive!” Elder Wanfang’s eyes flickered with a trace of lingering fear, which was swiftly replaced by ferocity. He formed the sword-seal with his hand, and the seven-starred peachwood coin-sword launched itself from his grip and shot straight toward Lang Jiuchuan. “Wicked woman — die!”

The peachwood sword was extraordinarily fast, carrying with it a fierce and righteous sword energy as it flew toward Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan sneered. If she were truly an ordinary wandering ghost, she might indeed have been injured by this righteous sword energy — perhaps even blasted out of her physical body. But who was she? She was a ghost-repeller personally escorted back to life by the Panguan of the underworld itself.

So long as no ghost came from the underworld to claim her soul, so long as the Heavenly Way did not strike her down, no one would ever force her out of this body so easily.

And besides — this sword would never touch her.

Fast as it was, Lang Jiuchuan was faster. Her figure flashed sideways and the peachwood sword grazed past her, burying itself into a tree trunk with a solid thud. The tail of the sword trembled, and the seven copper coins strung around the hilt all shook together, buzzing with resonance.

Lang Jiuchuan flung another talisman at him.

“Parlor tricks!” Elder Wanfang laughed coldly and evaded with ease — yet before he could steady himself, another talisman from Lang Jiuchuan followed close on the heels of the first.

Boom.

The first talisman had been a feint. This was the true Five Thunder Talisman.

Elder Wanfang leaped out from the dust and smoke in a wretched state, roaring furiously, “Wicked woman — you are truly crafty and cunning!”

Boom. Boom.

Two more thunder talismans were his answer.

Elder Wanfang was both furious and feeling the economic pain. “…”

Was this how one was supposed to use talismans? These were Five Thunder Talismans, among the most difficult talismans to draw in existence!

What manner of creature was she? How could she possibly have so many Five Thunder Talismans?

Lang Jiuchuan gave a cold chuckle. She had drawn these talismans in her idle hours at the temple, stockpiling them against future need — and look, they had come in useful at just the right moment. They let her conserve her own spiritual power while using the talisman artifacts to deal with this old Daoist, and they were perfectly suited for making him jump around like a monkey.

Watching him leap and scramble about, she felt immensely satisfied.

Elder Wanfang urgently formed his sword-seal and recalled the peachwood sword. As the sword flew back to him, he bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed a mouthful of fresh blood across the blade. The seven-starred copper coin peachwood sword blazed with golden light, its sword energy surging into a furious vortex of righteous blades, which swept thunderously toward Lang Jiuchuan.

“Die!“

Lang Jiuchuan felt the heavy killing intent of those righteous blades, and her eyes lit up with sharp brilliance.

Good — come then.

He had struck first.

Lang Jiuchuan unhooked Dizhong from her waist. This time she did not form a Daoist seal — instead, she formed the hand-seal of the Six-Syllable True Mantra and channeled it directly into the bell’s body.

Dong.

The monkey had been played with long enough. Now was the time to strike.