Lang Jiuchuan looked at Cui Shi’s face, drained of every trace of color, and her expression grew complicated.

By now, much had gradually come into clarity. The person she had been before losing her memories must indeed have been Cui Shi’s true child. Yet the outcome had been this — borrowing this body, changed at birth, to return to the living world. This entanglement of karmic misfortune — she did not quite know what to make of it.

But even if Cui Shi was her birth mother, Lang Jiuchuan could not bring herself to feel that tender, instinctive warmth between parent and child, or any particular closeness — for she had never known such feelings, and did not understand them.

Biological kinship was not always as vast as the sky.

What she felt now, looking at Cui Shi’s state, was something closer to pity — a pity that was sorrowful, and sorrowful to the point of being lamentable.

“Do you think I should have warned them beforehand before letting Zuoyan act? Coming so abruptly like this, it seems as if I hadn’t thought things through properly,” Lang Jiuchuan said to Jiangche.

Jiangche leapt into her arms and replied: “Whether you put your neck out or pull it back, the blade falls either way. Where in the world is anything ever perfectly arranged? If they cannot bear even this much and always need you to plan around them — then whether or not this kinship is acknowledged, it hardly matters.”

“Her body is troublesome,” Lang Jiuchuan said flatly. “She’s worn herself into this state entirely on her own.”

Jiangche looked at Cui Shi and said: “Everything is fate. To say something unkind — she would have been better off if she had simply not survived that moment of collapse. Hearing of Lang Zhengping’s death under unjust circumstances is the beginning of all her life’s suffering. When she later learns everything that her own daughter endured — that will be the moment she truly no longer finds reason to live.”

To say nothing of the fate of this physical form — even speaking only of Lang Jiuchuan herself, where had she died, and why had she returned to the living world with an incomplete soul, needing to borrow a body? That must surely be a harrowing story.

Jiangche did not for a moment believe that Lang Jiuchuan’s death had been any ordinary natural passing.

Lang Jiuchuan was silent.

Cheng Nanny came in and relayed that the lord of the manor was requesting her presence to speak. Lang Jiuchuan rose and said: “She is only sleeping now, but her heart Qi has suffered severe damage. Moreover, with the liver Qi suppressing the spleen and causing its deficiency, she will likely develop a fever. Keep watch.”

Cheng Nanny acknowledged the instructions.

Lang Jiuchuan went to Lang Zhengping’s study. He was pacing back and forth with a heavy, brooding expression. When he saw her enter, he asked: “Your mother — she’s all right?”

It was not that he was indifferent to his sister-in-law — rather, men and women observed proper distinctions, and as her brother-in-law by marriage, it would not do for him to go to her chambers to express concern, lest it invite unfavorable talk.

“Her vital energy has been severely depleted. She needs to recuperate.” Lang Jiuchuan sat down. “You have heard all of the outside rumors, have you not? It was my failure — I should have given you some forewarning beforehand.”

Lang Zhengping waved a hand. “Caught completely off guard like this, our reaction will appear more genuine to outsiders. The real concern is your mother’s health — ah, well. But let us not speak of that. Now that this tale has already spread, what do we do next? Is there a need to add more fuel to the fire?”

“There is no need. He does not have many days left to live. What you must do, First Uncle, is to make your position clear to His Majesty. There is no need for lengthy elaboration — only one sentence: you trust that His Majesty would never allow a loyal subject who gave everything in service to the realm to remain unjustly wronged, and would never allow the hearts of those soldiers who continue to protect the realm to grow cold.”

This sentence neither begged for pity nor made a spectacle of suffering — only the righteousness of the nation and its people. If the reigning emperor was not a foolish ruler, he would know what to do.

Moreover, the “loyal subject” in that sentence could be interpreted in more than one way. It need not refer only to Lang Zhengping — it could equally be read to mean Xie Zhengming. So even if His Majesty wished to distort right and wrong and shield Xie Zhengming from consequences, the Lang family had not uttered a single word against the Xie family — and thus there could be no grounds for bringing charges against the Lang family either.

Lang Zhengping straightened, and said: “I understand.”

The matter had been addressed. Lang Jiuchuan rose to leave.

“You’re leaving just like that?” Lang Zhengping stared.

“Is there something else?”

“No, I just thought — Xie Zhengming, shouldn’t we deliberate a bit more on how to deal with him?”

“Everything that needs to be done, I have done. The two of you need only wait and watch his end.”

Lang Zhengping: “…”

He stared in something of a daze as Lang Jiuchuan left, watching that slender figure until it disappeared from sight. Something inexplicable stung at his eyes. This sensation of winning without having to lift a finger — how did it leave a person both delighted and aching at once?

The rumors outside were roaring like a tide. Though word had reached the manor as well, Madam Fan had given orders that no one was to discuss it, lest the entire household fall into panic — and so the servants of the manor did not dare speak of it openly, though the looks they gave Lang Jiuchuan when they saw her were somewhat strange.

If the rumors were true, the second branch had suffered so terribly.

Lang Jiuchuan took no notice of any of it, giving not a single glance its weight. Everything she had done was a matter of cause and effect.

She was Lang Zhengping’s daughter. Having learned of his injustice, she would naturally restore his name to its rightful clarity — only then could he lay down all his grievances and be reborn with a clean slate.

As expected, Cui Shi developed a fever. Lang Jiuchuan applied another round of needles and had the Water Spirit purify a jar of well-spring water, deliberately using it to brew the medicinal decoction. By the middle of the night, Cui Shi had finally regained consciousness.

At the sight of Lang Jiuchuan, tears rolled down Cui Shi’s face unchecked.

Lang Jiuchuan let out a quiet sigh. She helped Cui Shi sit up, brought water and helped her drink it, then said: “Your body is not well. If you continue to abuse it, not even an immortal will be able to save you.”

Cui Shi looked at her, lips trembling, and said: “Have you heard everything? Can you tell me whether that tale…”

“Yes.”

Cui Shi stiffened.

“Everything spoken in that tale is the truth. The man who calls himself the Marquis Zhenbei is nothing but a hypocrite who climbed to power over my father’s corpse.” Lang Jiuchuan’s voice was calm. “He planted the Soul-Devouring Gu in my father’s body. What appeared to be an arrow wound that could not be treated was only a fabrication to conceal the true cause — the Soul-Devouring Gu…”

She did not finish her words, for Cui Shi had begun to tremble uncontrollably, the last remaining color leaving her already bloodless face, as though she were on the verge of fainting again.

Lang Jiuchuan took hold of her hand and pressed lightly at the base of her thumb, in the webbing of her hand, and said: “It is painful to hear — but all of this is the truth. Even so, you need not worry. Xie Zhengming will die.”

Cui Shi’s hand clenched — she tried to pull it back, staring fixedly at her, and asked: “You knew all along — you knew from the very beginning that something was wrong with Fang-ge’s death? Is that why you refused to allow the Marquis Zhenbei’s manor to hold memorial rites for him so early on — because they were not worthy?”

Lang Jiuchuan said quietly: “Once I knew nothing of it, ignorance was its own kind of peace. But having come to know — how could I allow offerings from those people to defile his spirit?”

Cui Shi felt a great wave of pain crash through her, and in her agitation she coughed up another mouthful of blood, unable to hold it back any longer. Clutching her chest, she began to sob with her whole body — deep, wrenching, uncontrollable sobs.

She had been blind. Blind in her eyes and blind in her heart — unable to recognize her own daughter, unable to see through the enemy who had slain her husband. She had even admired that man for his loyalty and righteousness. In all these years, what was Cui Huijun any different from someone who had taken the murderer for a benefactor?

How would she ever face her husband again, when the time came?

Cui Shi wept until it felt as though her very insides were being torn apart. Cheng Nanny and Molan both hurried in — though their hearts ached, they saw Lang Jiuchuan give a quiet shake of her head, and so they held themselves in check and waited to one side.

After a long while, Cui Shi’s weeping finally stilled. She looked at Lang Jiuchuan, and through gritted teeth said: “Xie Zhengming is a man of deep cunning and sly as a fox. He has held a position of great power for more than a decade, and is nothing like the minor deputy general he once was. Moreover, through those years of holding memorial rites for your father with such unwavering consistency, he won over a great many of your father’s former subordinates. To say nothing of the web of connections he has built at court. Dealing with him is no easy matter.”

“It is not difficult. From the moment I learned that my father died because of the Soul-Devouring Gu, Xie Zhengming, in my eyes, was already a dead man — and could only ever be a dead man.” Lang Jiuchuan’s voice was cold and sharp: “And so from the very instant he set foot in Wu Jing, the trap to destroy him was formally set in motion. A life for a life — the reckoning has never been a question of whether, only a question of when. Now — it is time for him to pay in blood.”