With the karmic force dissolved, the courtyard that had at last grown calm returned to darkness. But no sooner had the white flash darted into the bone bell than blazing white light erupted once more — like broad daylight — searing the eyes of everyone present, causing them to squeeze their eyes shut on instinct.

Lang Jiuchuan’s instinct was to close her eyes too — but out of the corner of her gaze she saw the white flash enter the bone bell, and then the bone bell, as though it had sprouted legs, began making its escape from the glutinous rice-filled incense burner on the ritual altar.

The bone bell she had purified was something she intended to keep for herself. Whatever had just taken up residence in it had seized it — and now it dared to flee?

Snatching food from the tiger’s mouth. It was looking for death.

Lang Jiuchuan tapped the ground with her toe and stretched out her hand. She recalled the Dizhong and struck at the bone bell again.

The bone bell let out a shriek, moved even faster, and darted toward the lake’s edge.

Once it entered the lake, the lake would become its territory. Lang Jiuchuan thought of this as well — her gaze grew colder and more ruthless. She gave chase. If the Dizhong couldn’t stop it, she had other means.

“Wooden Fish.” Lang Jiuchuan called upon the Little Nine Pagoda.

Wooden Fish received Lang Jiuchuan’s intent and drove the Little Nine Pagoda soaring forward. There ahead was the round bone bell rolling at a furious pace toward the lake, moving as though it had ten thousand legs.

The Little Nine Pagoda flared with golden light, suddenly growing large. With a swift motion it blocked the bone bell’s path, and when the bell bounced and flew up toward the lake, the pagoda swallowed it within.

The bone bell’s anguished shrieking came to an abrupt, jarring halt.

Lang Jiuchuan caught up. The Little Nine Pagoda returned to her hand. Yice — who had been pressing one hand to his chest as he ran after her — froze the moment he saw the Little Nine Pagoda.

That small pagoda looked oddly familiar.

Lang Jiuchuan turned her head, saw him staring at the Little Nine Pagoda, and calmly tucked it away.

Yice gave a sound of protest: “That pagoda—”

Lang Jiuchuan walked past him and back to the courtyard. Yice hurried after her and asked: “What kind of ritual instrument is that pagoda? I feel as though I’ve seen it before.”

“Your vitality is greatly depleted and your eyes have gone blurry. You simply saw wrong.”

Yice narrowed his eyes. That answer reeked of evasion — it was clear she was leaving something unsaid.

He changed the subject: “Just now — what happened with the bone bell? What was that white flash?”

Lang Jiuchuan had very nearly had her treasure stolen by some unknown thing and was in a foul mood. “I don’t know yet. I’ll take a look in a moment.”

It couldn’t escape from inside the Little Nine Pagoda anyway. And it would be good to let the pagoda knock some of the fight out of it first — the nerve of it, coveting her belongings.

Yice saw her expression was unpleasant and, wisely, pressed no further. He closed his mouth and returned to the courtyard.

The courtyard had now genuinely returned to calm. Only the sound of cold wind blowing in from the lake, rustling the treetops, filled the air. Zuo Yan and several trusted servants stood or sat, faces wan and dazed, gathered around Bai Ning.

They were still submerged in the reality of what had just unfolded in that ritual space. Having experienced firsthand the ferocity of those dark, ghostly forces, they understood at last why both Buddhist and Daoist practitioners existed in this world.

If there were no practitioners of righteous cultivation to drive out evil and uphold the proper way, how could ordinary people like themselves stand against such things?

Even now, though the storm had passed, they remained shaken to the core by what they had witnessed — wearing the expressions of those who had survived a great calamity.

Yice raised his head and glanced at the sky. Dawn was not far off. He looked at the ritual altar — considerably damaged — and the mess surrounding it. No great joy showed on his face. Instead, he bore a weighted, exhausted expression.

Then, all at once, his spirit suddenly released its tension. His expression went slack and drained. Like a flower beginning to wilt, he dropped straight down onto the cold ground and sat there — tears welling in his eyes.

He was no great master. In that battle just now, he had truly given everything he had — and not only to earn the compensation from the Duke’s household. More than that, he had wanted to prove to others that the Maoshan Sect was not without disciples. The sect had declined, yes — but it still had those who carried on its lineage. Its inheritance had not been lost.

And so he had given his all, and he had genuinely done his best. He had brought no shame to the Maoshan Sect.

Now that his spirit had released its hold, he felt the searing pain in his soul caused by the depletion of his spiritual power. That curse-breaking battle had consumed a staggering amount of his spiritual power — for his current level of cultivation, it had been far beyond his usual limits.

Lang Jiuchuan glanced over at him.

Yice met her clear, steady gaze and instinctively straightened his back. Suppressing the pain, he stood and said: “I’m fine. I’ll finish wrapping things up.”

Who had asked?

Yet Yice drew in a deep breath, steadied himself in silence, and walked to the front of the altar. He straightened his already-disheveled outer robe and headwear, then took a fresh stick of incense, lit it, and with Daoist ritual propriety, held it respectfully and bowed:

“Burning incense to give notice, prostrating to send off the divine, may the true immortals return to their heavenly carriages. The clouded road is now clear and empty. Once again we have been bathed in heaven’s grace. Your disciple bows in gratitude.”

After three full bows, he placed the incense in the burner and watched the pale smoke curl upward, rising straight toward the clouds. Only then did a smile touch his lips.

Lang Jiuchuan also took a stick of incense — though without his elaborate ritual. She simply formed a Three Purities Seal with both hands, then bowed in a deep, sustained incline — an expression of reverence toward the heavenly way, and of gratitude for the ancestral founder’s divine authority.

Pale smoke rose gently. A breeze swept through, carrying away the last lingering trace of cold and filth from the courtyard, leaving in its place the drifting fragrance of sandalwood incense.

Both of them let out a breath, and exchanged a glance.

This matter was a great success.

Zuo Yan walked over. He bowed deeply to both of them, his tone sincere and full of reverence: “I am deeply grateful for the efforts of both Masters this evening.”

Yice opened his mouth as if to say something — then promptly spat a mouthful of blood all over Zuo Yan’s head and body, after which he toppled stiffly backward.

Zuo Yan: “!”

With quick eyes and quick hands, he caught Yice before he hit the ground and pulled the young man against himself, then looked toward Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan frowned, stepped forward, took Yice’s wrist, and checked his pulse: “He’ll be fine. It’s simply that the depletion of his spiritual power has led to severe vital energy damage. Young Lord, have someone prepare a ginseng soup and give it to him to drink. A period of rest and recuperation will set him right. For those who walk the path of cultivation, this is a common aftermath of ritual combat.”

Zuo Yan promptly called over the household steward to have Yice carried to a guest room to recover, then turned to look at Lang Jiuchuan: “And you, Master?”

Her own complexion was none too good either.

Lang Jiuchuan said: “I am also unharmed in any significant way. Let me first look in on your honored wife.”

She walked over to Bai Ning, pressed two fingers to her wrist to check her pulse, then channeled spiritual power through her Heavenly Eye to observe her meridians from within. Seeing that the evil curses that had been clinging to those channels had fully retreated — no longer icy cold as before — she felt at ease.

“The evil curses have been removed. What remains is careful recuperation. I’ll write out a prescription for you to follow, along with a formula for Nourishing Vitality Pills — take them daily.”

Lang Jiuchuan paused, then added: “However, as I said before — while the evil curses can be removed, she must still bear a consequence. In this lifetime, she will have no children of her own blood.”

Zuo Yan said: “I understand this fully.”

Lang Jiuchuan said no more. The greatest sin the Bai Family matriarch had committed was helping the Willow Immortal plant the demonic child, and then allowing those of the dark path to take the child away to do further harm. That karma, those karmic consequences — she would bear them, and her descendants would inevitably suffer greatly for it.

This was the same principle by which performing good deeds and accumulating hidden virtue could shelter and bless one’s descendants. Do evil, and naturally one’s descendants suffer for it.

Lang Jiuchuan could feel sympathy for Bai Ning — but she would not take on the other’s feelings as her own. This was nothing more than cause and effect, karmic retribution.

Zuo Yan had Bai Ning escorted back to the main courtyard rooms. Seeing that the sky had not yet fully brightened, he personally accompanied Lang Jiuchuan to the guest wing. Along the way, they happened to encounter Jiangche returning. Zuo Yan then heard that round lump of a creature say something that stopped the heart:

“Little Nine, both of the Bai Family elders are probably not going to make it.”