Xie Zhenming was dead.

Lang Jiuchuan felt the entire weight of the oppression in her chest dissipate. She left the Surveillance Bureau, gazed up at the countless stars scattered across the sky above, then activated her Spirit-Walking Technique, departed the city, and made her way to the peak of the rear mountain behind the Huguo Temple. She found a great boulder, sat down cross-legged, removed the bone chime and placed it as an offering before her spirit altar, and entered deep meditation to comprehend the Dao.

Jiangche lay sprawled at her side. He lazily raised his tiger eyes and watched the bone chime begin to spin, drawing in the living vitality of the grasses and trees across the entire mountain, transforming it into the spirit of the Five Elements and enveloping Lang Jiuchuan entirely within it.

While Lang Jiuchuan cultivated in meditative stillness on the mountain, the cause of Xie Zhenming’s death had already been presented before the emperor. That he had Gu within him was something everyone had witnessed. Death by backlash from his own Gu was hardly a remarkable thing.

The reigning emperor harbored no suspicion. From the moment the Affection Gu had appeared, the Xie family’s fate had been sealed in his mind. So when Xie Zhenming died, he did not even demand a complete chain of evidence. The imperial edict was filled with two charges: Xie Zhenming had used sinister arts to harm loyal and upright pillars of the nation; he had acted against his superiors, harbored treasonous ambitions and plotted rebellion; his crimes were heinous beyond measure, deserving punishment by Heaven and earth alike. The decree condemning the already-dead Xie Zhenming ordered his bones crushed and scattered, and his nine clans exterminated. As for the consort Qing Pin from the Xie family — she was granted white silk, excluded from burial in the imperial consort mausoleum. The Xie family’s estates, fields, residences, and commercial properties were seized in their entirety for the imperial treasury.

The emperor further commanded the Court of Judicial Review, the Ministry of Justice, and the Surveillance Bureau to jointly investigate the treason case of Xie Zhenming with full force. Any individual connected to or implicated in the rebellion, regardless of rank or standing, was to be pursued to the last and rooted out completely.

At once the court was shaken to its foundations. Blood and storm swept through the capital. The nobility and official families of Wu Jing trembled at every sound, for the treason case of Xie Zhenming cast a shadow over them all.

A noble aristocratic household — one that had risen in barely a decade — now had its great mansion come crashing down, consumed by the flood of history. It was enough to make anyone sigh.

A second imperial edict arrived at the Lang Family’s doorstep. It conferred a posthumous title upon the late General of Anbei — the Loyal and Martial Viscount — with a stipend of five hundred households and a thousand bushels of grain annually, with the honor to be inherited by his descendants and one of his sons eligible to study at the Imperial Academy. His wife was granted the title of Third-Rank Gracious Lady, along with an award of five thousand taels of silver, one thousand taels of gold, and one hundred bolts of fine silk, as consolation for the bereaved family.

Lang Zhengping received the edict and collapsed to his knees, weeping loudly. The rest of the Lang family wept and rejoiced in equal measure — who could have imagined that their Second Uncle’s death would be vindicated in such a manner?

Many more envied Lang Caicheng — what astonishing fortune he’d stumbled into. To think that Second Aunt had chosen him as her adopted son.

As for Cui Shi, she remained in an unconscious slumber. Lang Zhengping personally delivered the edict to Qichi Pavilion and had Lang Caicheng read it aloud at her bedside.

Remarkably, tears rolled from the corner of Cui Shi’s eyes. Her eyelids trembled — and she opened them, calling out Lang Zhengfan’s name.

She had dreamed of Lang Zhengfan. He was waving farewell to her, his smile still as radiant as sunshine, and he had not blamed her for anything.

He had come — and then he was gone.

Cui Shi’s tears fell without ceasing — until a servant came rushing to summon Lang Caicheng. Lady Pan’s labor had begun.

She was still more than half a month from her due date. The child was coming early.

Life and death, ever turning. The cycle never ceased.

Lang Jiuchuan opened her eyes from her deep contemplation. Three days had passed. She formed a Dao seal, guided the resonance of the Dao and her spiritual force inward, and observed her own meridians — and her heart leapt with delighted surprise.

In her dantian, spiritual force surged in abundance, a small vortex forming there as power accumulated. Her meridians had been thoroughly saturated and were growing stronger and more resilient by the day. Her cultivation had made considerable progress — though her soul was not yet complete, and her body had not yet undergone complete transformation.

But she was not in a hurry. She could wait.

She looked over at Jiangche beside her. His fur had grown denser and longer. His pair of golden tiger eyes gleamed brilliantly, his bearing remarkable and full of commanding presence.

“You’re starting to carry the manner of a true tiger,” Lang Jiuchuan said, ruffling his fur.

Jiangche rolled his eyes. This insufferable woman, he grumbled inwardly. At least that look of someone doomed to an early grave is finally gone from her face. She’s grown even better-looking.

Lang Jiuchuan rehung the bone chime at her waist, then scooped Jiangche up and descended the mountain into Huguo Temple. She made a point of visiting the Hall of Earth-Treasury, where she lit a stick of incense before the memorial tablet that had been dedicated to Lang Zhengfan, bowed three times, and stood before the tablet in silence for a long while.

Then, without warning, the eternal lamp swayed — and with a soft puff, went out.

Lang Jiuchuan’s pupils contracted. In a single flash of movement she was out of the Hall of Earth-Treasury, fingertips forming rapid seals as she activated her Spirit-Walking Technique and sped back to the Lang family estate. Arriving there, she saw vitality beginning to gather and concentrate above the small courtyard in the southeastern corner. Her expression softened all at once.

That was where Lady Pan and the others lived.

She went first to Qichi Pavilion. Cui Shi had awakened, but she was too weak to leave the bed. Upon seeing her, Cui Shi said faintly: “I dreamed your father said farewell to me.”

Lang Jiuchuan made a sound of acknowledgment. “Rest well. Lang Caicheng and his wife are sincere and good-hearted people — they will look after you properly. Little Yuan is sweet and lovely. Raise him well, and take joy in a grandchild’s company. It is no small happiness.”

Cui Shi’s breath caught. “You’re leaving?”

Had she resolved the karmic bond with Lang Zhengfan, and was she now departing the Lang household?

“I have some matters that will take me away for a while.”

“Will you come back?”

Lang Jiuchuan raised her head, and their eyes met. Cui Shi flinched, somewhat flustered, and looked away, bowing her head with a bitter, sorrowful expression. “Forget it. Do as you will.”

“Take good care of yourself.” Lang Jiuchuan bowed to her and left.

Cui Shi stared at the disappearing figure until it was gone, and her vision blurred. She instinctively reached for the jade talisman pressed against her chest, as though grasping it could bring her some measure of peace.

Lang Jiuchuan spoke a few more words to Lang Zhengping, then departed the estate. Jiangche asked eagerly: “Are we going to ambush that young master of the Rong family?”

“No. First, let’s go take a look at that haunted Ren mansion.” Lang Jiuchuan moved through one alleyway after another and soon arrived at the side gate of the Ren estate — where she unexpectedly ran into someone.

What was Old Master Cui doing here?