Whoever stands against me must bear the weight of my wrath.

Lang Jiuchuan stood before the manor gate and gave clear, resounding voice to her declaration—her stance toward the outside world, her creed. She stood straight-backed and upright, and behind her stood the people of the Marquis’s manor.

Her declaration encompassed those behind her as well. She had not said it outright—yet by standing here, she had silently drawn them under her wing.

Provoke her—and one must endure her fury.

The crowd exchanged glances. Though a few harbored quiet contempt, not a single person dared utter another word.

Only Tantai Cong felt as though his imperial identity had been challenged—as if he had been ground underfoot and trampled.

Where did she get the audacity?

Just because of the Golden Lotus Bearing Witness to the Dao?

“May I ask, Daoist friend—since you have the Golden Lotus Bearing Witness to the Dao, it is evident you come from an orthodox lineage of the Dao. May I ask which master you studied under?” Daoren Zhishang, for reasons that were difficult to read, asked after her origins.

Lang Jiuchuan smiled in a way that was not quite a smile. “My teacher has long since passed from this world. You need not trouble yourselves with any thoughts of recruitment. Of course, if the Xuan Clan intends to follow its usual pattern of ‘recruit, and if that fails, suppress’—Director Shen, Gong Daoist friend, the Surveillance Bureau handles that, does it not?”

Shen Qinghe replied: “Naturally. Those within the Dao should return to its true nature—uphold and propagate the Daoist teachings, transmit the Dao through virtue. Not use the Dao as a tool for seizing power and position. When the Dao is no longer the Dao and instead becomes an instrument of political maneuvering and oppression—that is walking contrary to the Dao itself.”

His words, though not an outright insult, stabbed at the faces of every person on Daoren Zhishang’s side until they flushed red.

He had not explicitly condemned them—but that was precisely what his meaning amounted to.

“Since you are all so idle—the Surveillance Bureau has just taken on a new case. I came here partly to conscript reinforcements. Since you have nothing better to do, why not answer the Surveillance Bureau’s summons and purge evil in service of the Dao?” Shen Qinghe followed up immediately with another remark.

The moment Lang Jiuchuan heard this, she immediately turned and walked toward Xue Shi. “Xue Shi, Elder Zeng, Elder Ou—I am honored by your presence here. My manor has no fine tea to offer, but a cup of medicinal tea I can certainly provide. Won’t you come inside for a cup? The fifth month of toxic influences is nearly upon us—this would be a good time to clear away the cold and yin toxins that have accumulated over the third and fourth months.”

“I’ve been waiting for exactly that.” Xue Shi smiled warmly and cupped his hands in greeting.

Gong Qi let out a short laugh and strode forward, grabbing hold of her sleeve. “Daoist friend, where are you going? The Qiong River area has water demons causing chaos. Part of our purpose in coming here today was to invite Daoist friend’s assistance.”

Shen Qinghe nodded urgently. Far too many people had already died.

Lang Jiuchuan pulled her sleeve free and looked with a half-smile at Tantai Cong, who was still glowering at her as he mulled over some scheme to cause trouble. “What does that have to do with me? They were just insisting I was a demonic entity. Given such a disgraceful reputation, how could I possibly go about slaying ‘my own kind’?”

Gong Qi’s mouth twitched. He lowered his voice: “That’s quite enough out of you.”

Lang Jiuchuan let out a soft sound of contempt through her nose. “I am the one being magnanimous enough not to pursue it further—that does not mean I am willing to let it drop. Dragging this back out every now and then to flog the corpse clears my mind wonderfully. Why would I pass up such an opportunity?”

“Lang Daoist friend—as an orthodox member of the Dao, you bear the responsibility of serving all living beings under Heaven. Purging evil and defending the Dao is surely your duty as well. You previously took part in the corpse-zombie case—so why now do you…” Daoren Miaocheng, who had been holding his tongue for some time, furrowed his brow. “To protect the common people—those of us in the Dao should not shirk from that.”

“Before, it was because I was in a good mood and willing to help. Now I am in a bad mood and unwilling—what of it? I am not an officer of the Surveillance Bureau, nor am I a retainer pledged to any household. I am also no great Buddha devoted to universal salvation. Some entanglements I simply prefer not to get involved in—is there something wrong with that?” Lang Jiuchuan said flatly. “Who decided that an orthodox member of the Dao is obligated to go throw their life away?”

The crowd frowned.

Gong Qi sighed. This ancestor of his—her temper had not cooled yet.

He moved to Lang Jiuchuan’s side and spoke in a voice that only she could hear: “Ancestor—calling you ancestor ought to settle it, right? Don’t bother with a brainless fool like that. At the end of the day, he is of the imperial family. As long as the Emperor’s surname is Tantai, the people of the Lang Family behind you can only act in accordance with the imperial will—that includes their future prospects, your eldest brother’s career advancement…”

“Threatening me through them?” Lang Jiuchuan fixed him with a cold sideways stare. “They’re all useless people. If they can’t secure their own futures, then let them be idle men living off the family’s ancestral wealth waiting to die. The bleakest outcome is becoming country recluses—tending fields and growing old in some rural corner.”

Gong Qi gave a quiet cough and broke into a smile. “Who would dare threaten you? I was merely offering a reminder—you can’t keep watch over the Lang Family every single moment, can you?”

Shen Qinghe watched from the side with eager, hopeful eyes.

Lang Jiuchuan’s fingertips idly rubbed the bone bells at her waist. “It is not that I refuse to come out of seclusion to lend a hand—but there is a condition.”

“What condition?”

“Since the Surveillance Bureau claims to oversee all supernatural cases throughout the realm, these cases naturally need to be resolved. A ledger of merit should be established—recording all those who have rendered service in purging evil. And storytellers should be sent to every prefecture and county to spread the word.”

Gong Qi froze. “When did you start chasing fame and reputation?”

“This is not chasing fame and reputation,” Lang Jiuchuan said evenly. “It is building a name and a legacy—and amassing vow power for myself. If such contributions go unrecorded, the world will only know it as the Surveillance Bureau’s achievement. What credit would any of those who actually defended the Dao receive?”

She glanced toward Daoren Zhishang and the others. “I have none of the high-minded purity of some noble Daoist who is glad to work for nothing. This name—I want it.”

Gong Qi said nothing, only fixing his eyes on her as he asked: “What are you actually scheming?”

She was not the sort of person who coveted fame. Coming out with something like this so suddenly—she had to have an ulterior motive.

“Simply preparing for what has yet to come,” Lang Jiuchuan said with a sardonic tone. “You said it yourself—the imperial family bears the Tantai name, and the Xuan Clan outside holds formidable prestige throughout the realm. Should the day come when I am in as weak a position as today—or worse—if I remain nameless and unknown, I will be utterly alone with no allies to call upon. In that case, I intend to make my name known throughout the world, so that if that day of real trouble comes, people everywhere will speak in my defense.”

Prestige she wanted. Merit and vow power she needed even more—just as with a deity, the more people who offered prayers, the greater the vow power accrued.

She had no desire to become a deity. She was simply thinking several moves ahead, making provisions for herself—insurance against all eventualities.

“You may call me calculating if you wish—but that is my condition. Also—that ledger of merit must be bound with gold-threaded silk, resistant to fire and water. Any service rendered in purging evil is to be inscribed with cinnabar by a master practitioner, recognized by Heaven and Earth, to prevent anyone from muddying the waters or erasing contributions.” Lang Jiuchuan added another clause.

Gong Qi’s expression was complex. “You truly have no faith in the Surveillance Bureau.”

Lang Jiuchuan lowered her gaze, murmuring quietly: “The enemies opposing me hold far too much power. And I stand alone with no one to depend on. I have no choice but to move carefully, one measured step at a time.”

She did not wait for Gong Qi’s response before continuing: “Besides—with this ledger of merit established, I believe that in the future, whenever the Surveillance Bureau encounters some strange and supernatural case, there will be no shortage of truly capable individuals willing to help. Who would not want their name recorded on the ledger of merit and earn a measure of vow power?”

Without fame or gain to show for it—where in this world was there truly such a selfless person? Daoist priests were still human beings. They relied on incense offerings too. And they yearned for merit, because once merit was fulfilled, they would achieve the Great Dao themselves.

“This is not something I can decide on my own…”

“That is fine. I was about to enter seclusion anyway.” Lang Jiuchuan turned and walked away.

Gong Qi grabbed her again, gritting his teeth. “This matter has more benefits than drawbacks. I will argue alongside Director Shen to make it happen. But first—shall we deal with a certain demon?”