Lang Jiuchuan’s mood was indeed somewhat stirred — but Jiangche’s sudden interjection had leveled it back to calm.
Perhaps the old woman harbored a transferring affection — loving the child as an extension of the one she had loved before. But perhaps this small thread of care was also the only thing that could truly comfort the soul who rightfully belonged here.
At least it had not been an entirely wasted life.
“Grandmother is still with us. You hold onto it.” Lang Jiuchuan tucked the deed and the banknotes back into the pouch and handed it straight back to Nanny Wang.
Nanny Wang shook her head. “Since the old madam has given this to you, Young Miss, you should keep it yourself. There is no need to worry about anyone finding out. Not many people know of this to begin with, and even if they did — what grandmother sets aside a little private fund for the child and grandchild she treasures most? Who would dare say a word? These are the old madam’s own private savings. Call it favoritism? Human hearts are naturally partial. Even ten fingers are of different lengths.”
She turned her head and, seeing that the old madam was already drowsing, added, “The old madam’s deepest worry, always, has been for you and your father.”
Lang Jiuchuan tightened her grip around the pouch. “I don’t think I have ever seen a portrait of my… father.”
“The old madam’s illness came from missing him too deeply. Because of that, Shoukang Hall dares not keep any portrait of the second master — for fear that seeing it would only deepen her grief. Cui Shi’s quarters should have one, and there is also one in the ancestral hall.”
Nanny Wang paused slightly, recalling the strained relationship between Lang Jiuchuan and Cui Shi, and added, “Apart from hers, that would be your best option.”
Lang Jiuchuan gave a small nod. She tucked the pouch at her waist and looked once more at the old madam, who had already tilted her head and fallen asleep. She studied the wrinkles on that face for a long moment before saying to Nanny Wang, “You have taken great care. Thank you.”
Nanny Wang smiled. “Now that you are here in the household, the old madam will surely be much happier.”
Lang Jiuchuan paused, and after a long moment, made a sound of quiet acknowledgment.
As she walked out of Shoukang Hall, Jiangche said, “With this, even if you wanted to leave, you couldn’t, could you?”
Lang Jiuchuan answered with something else entirely. “The things I asked you to find — have you brought them all back?”
“Of course. When the great White Tiger King personally takes charge, can there be any empty-handed returns? It’s all in the room.” Jiangche drifted ahead of her, saying in a fierce tone, “It’s you I want to talk about — what on earth were you doing yesterday? How did your body end up in such a wretched state? Let me tell you — if you’re going to die, you need to warn me in advance so I can make my escape. Don’t drag me down with you.”
“If you had channeled a little more wish-power my way, I wouldn’t have suffered that kind of backlash.” Lang Jiuchuan gave a cold snort.
Jiangche laughed despite its irritation. “I see your other abilities may be ordinary, but your talent for turning around and blaming others is utterly unmatched. You tempt death, and then you blame me for it?”
“One glory, one loss — we rise and fall together.” Lang Jiuchuan’s expression remained unmoved. “What’s wrong with being a little more generous with the power you share? You’re supposed to have the magnanimity of a tiger.”
Those words sounded awfully familiar. Wasn’t that more or less what she had flung at me when she was arguing with me before?
Jiangche was just working out how to throw those very words back at her when Lang Jiuchuan gave it no opportunity to counterattack. “What’s wrong with you? Why did you come back with a trace of inauspicious energy clinging to you?”
Hm?
Jiangche instinctively looked at its own side. Was there inauspicious energy?
But with this sudden change of subject, it did remember something.
“When I was at Cien Temple stealing — that is, collecting — incense ash, I happened to overhear something. I think you could help resolve it and earn some merit to repair your body.”
“Oh?”
Jiangche settled onto her shoulder. “Shen Qinghe, the Minister of Justice who lives in the Sijing Ward of Wu Jing — his young son Shen Peng has apparently been afflicted by something malevolent recently. He’s currently recuperating at Cien Temple to purge the contamination.”
Lang Jiuchuan listened, then said, “Since Cien Temple opens its gates to all and welcomes good-hearted visitors, surely a mere case of malevolent affliction would not be beyond them to resolve.”
“It truly is beyond them. Even staying at Cien Temple, the boy’s vital essence continues to drain away steadily. From what I could see, the person has withered down to nothing — barely a stick of bones left, his essence nearly completely siphoned out. I heard that the Shen family is pulling every connection they have trying to get one of the Three Great Mystic Families to come and perform an exorcism.”
Something stirred in Lang Jiuchuan’s mind. “The Three Great Mystic Families?”
“You don’t know? They are the three great clans with inherited Dao-root lineages — the Gong, Rong, and Feng families.” Jiangche relayed what it had gathered over the past year from the Old Silver Ginkgo, then went on, “Did you think that just because the Buddhist and Daoist sects exist in this mortal world, anyone and everyone within them can cut down evil, destroy demons, and subdue monsters? If the spiritual energy here were truly that abundant, I would not have failed my tribulation crossing, nor would I have nearly had my spiritual consciousness scatter and dissolve instead of transforming into a divine beast.”
The Great Bian nation did possess spiritual energy, but it was nothing like the immortal realm. Within the mundane world in particular, spiritual energy was even thinner. For those who entered Buddhist or Daoist orders, to truly cultivate to a meaningful level was extraordinarily difficult — due partly to the scarcity of spiritual energy, and partly to the question of comprehension and spiritual aptitude.
As for why the Three Great Mystic Families were called mystic clans — it was because their ancestors’ bloodlines had produced a true Daoist practitioner, one who carried a Dao-root. And once the Dao-root of an ancestor was inherited through the generations, the recipient’s spiritual aptitude was extraordinary. When it came to comprehending the Dao or the principles of Buddhism, such a person would advance far faster than an ordinary cultivator and achieve deeper insight.
And precisely because of this continuous inheritance, these families had accumulated far richer Buddhist and Daoist resources — rare sutras and Daoist texts known to almost no one else, esoteric cultivation methods, alchemical formulas, magical instruments, and more — treasures that outsiders could not purchase for any price.
If one said that the great clans of Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers of the Great Bian nation were prestigious — no. When it came to true nobility, none of them compared to the Three Great Mystic Families. For if those families dared to act, stirring the winds and rains to throw the realm into chaos was well within their capabilities. Not to mention that what they knew was profoundly arcane — cross them, and they might quietly lay a curse on your entire household that would bring ruin to every last member, and who could withstand that?
So it was that the saying went: better to offend a great clan than to provoke the Mystic Families — because there was simply no winning against them, and even less to be gained by gambling against them.
The Mystic Families carried their supreme radiance for a reason: they had the capital to be arrogant.
Lang Jiuchuan listened, and her brow slowly creased. An unexplained irritation rose within her. “If that’s the case, wouldn’t they be walking sideways through this world doing as they please?”
“That’s not quite right either. The Mystic Families may be proud and lofty, but do you think a Dao-root is like a head of cabbage — something anyone can simply have? Even compared to me, they fall short.” Jiangche gave a contemptuous snort. “Take the Rong family, for example. I heard that within their entire clan of several hundred, only a single Dao-root lineage still survives — and a fading one at that. If even that line were to break, the Rong family would likely be unable to hold on to what their ancestors left behind.”
“So you’re saying — even though they’ve accumulated all those Daoist resources, not everyone in the family can actually enter the Dao and cultivate?”
Jiangche nodded. “That’s exactly it. But having even one or two with that ability is enough to establish themselves in this world. And among those who carry that bloodline, even those without a Dao-root are not without ability — after all, cultivating the Dao is also a matter of cultivating one’s heart and nature. And as for those who do carry a Dao-root, they are the priceless gem of the entire clan — which is why the Three Great Families intermarry among themselves, to ensure that the next generation has the greatest chance of producing a Dao-root. In particular, those who carry a Dao-root must absolutely not marry outside the Mystic Families, lest the bloodline become diluted.”
Lang Jiuchuan let out a scoffing sound, making no effort to hide her disdain.
“Moreover, the Three Great Mystic Families do not dare to act openly and without restraint. Apart from the fact that not every member carries a Dao-root, there is another reason — there is one family that sits above them all.”
Lang Jiuchuan stilled. Another family?
“Actually, calling them the ‘Three Great Families’ is not quite accurate — there should be four. The Tantai imperial clan also carries an inherited Dao-root lineage.” Jiangche continued, “That mysterious National Preceptor of the Great Bian nation, and the sacred female guardian of the realm — both come from the imperial family.”
Thrum.
Without warning, Lang Jiuchuan’s head erupted in sharp, stabbing pain. She let out a stifled groan, clutched her head, and crouched down on the ground.