The Lang Family had yet another spectacle on its hands.

The star of this spectacle was once again Lang Jiuchuan — the young woman of the Golden Lotus Bearing Witness. Since that phenomenon appeared, those who paid attention had spread the word until everyone understood its meaning: it was a recognition by the Heavenly Dao, a sign that appeared only for someone of pure and righteous spirit.

Lang Jiuchuan was that person of pure and righteous spirit — and word had it she had slain two evil beings and accumulated great merit. Now the imperial family’s reward had arrived: a marriage decree.

A marriage decree into the imperial family — she was ascending to the highest heights!

But some people felt only regret. A person of such remarkable ability should soar through the skies like an eagle — not be caged in the deep palace, her wings clipped, reduced to the ordinary existence of a wife and mother.

What a waste for Lang Jiuchuan.

The citizens of Wu Jing gathered in a great mass, watching as a contingent of Imperial Guards escorted a decree-reading eunuch bearing a bright yellow imperial edict to the Marquis Kaiping’s residence, their voices buzzing with discussion.

“By the mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: the ninth young lady of the Marquis Kaiping’s residence is wise and sharp of mind, compassionate toward all living beings, and has rendered merit in slaying evil — We are greatly heartened. We hereby bestow upon her a marriage decree as the principal consort of Prince Jing. Let a propitious day be chosen for the wedding. So decreed—” The decree-reading chief eunuch smiled pleasantly at Lang Jiuchuan and Lang Zhengping. “Congratulations to the Marquis Kaiping, congratulations to the ninth young lady — to receive a marriage decree from the Emperor is the greatest of fortunes! In future, this servant also hopes to come and drink a cup of wedding wine to share in the joy — and trusts that the Marquis Kaiping will not turn this servant away.”

Lang Zhengping’s eyes churned with fury, his face twitching. He forced out a smile uglier than tears, unable to utter a single word of “gratitude for His Majesty’s grace” — he only wanted to say: This “fortune” — do you want it? You can have it.

Prince Jing was the Emperor’s youngest brother, thirty-four years of age. He had already married two principal consorts, but both had died of illness before bearing him a legitimate son. And now they had the audacity to offer Lang Jiuchuan as his principal consort.

The imperial house had gone too far. They had said she could pick any one she liked — was this the result of Lang Jiuchuan’s attitude causing them to go back on their word entirely?

He looked toward Lang Jiuchuan. What now?

Every member of the Lang Family crouched with their heads slightly raised, all eyes on Lang Jiuchuan standing at the very front, their gazes carrying a hint of awe. In their hearts by now, Lang Jiuchuan commanded far more fear than even the head of the family.

The decree-reading chief eunuch had not yet received a response. His expression grew strained. “Ninth young lady, will you not receive the decree?”

Lang Jiuchuan said: “Chief Eunuch, when I was young, my master read my fate and said that among the Five Banes, I bore the first three: widowhood, solitude, and isolation — meaning my father would die early, and afterward I would lose my husband, and I would leave no children behind. In plain terms: I am a Heaven-Cursed Star who drives men to an early grave, and I am not fit for marriage, lest I curse my husband and bring disaster upon his family. I don’t mind — but does the imperial family?”

Her voice rang out clearly and loudly. Not only the eunuch heard her — everyone watching nearby heard every word.

For a moment, a great clamor broke out.

The Lang Family members went pale. She had said it far too absolutely — she had severed all her own retreating paths.

Only Jiangche, lounging on the rooftop sunning itself, rolled its eyes. What was there to fear? If things changed later, she could simply say she had defied fate and remade her destiny — and who could do anything about it?

Defying fate and remaking one’s destiny — in Daoist thought, was that not practically ordinary?

Lang Jiuchuan’s words were digging a pit for these people — making it convenient for her to cause havoc later.

The decree-reading chief eunuch’s face had gone green. He smiled stiffly and said: “Ninth young lady, you worry too much. The imperial family is sheltered by the true dragon’s aura, blessed with great fortune — how could things be as you describe?”

Lang Jiuchuan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. She bared her teeth in a smile and said: “Then I am relieved. This subject’s daughter receives the decree.”

She raised her head — the coldness in her eyes was deeply intimidating.

The chief eunuch caught sight of those black pupils, his hands shook, and he nearly lost his grip on the imperial edict. He hastily passed it over.

Lang Jiuchuan received it with one hand. The knuckles of the hand gripping the edict went white. Prince Jing — hm?

She looked toward Daoren Ruoxu standing among the crowd, her eyes blazing with intensity, the corner of her mouth curving upward at a slight slant.

Daoren Ruoxu met that gaze, and the hair on his scalp prickled. He turned and left immediately.

The spectacle dispersed.

Lang Jiuchuan declined Lang Zhengping’s desire to discuss the matter with everyone, took the edict, and returned to her study. She spread it open and read through it once more — then her fingernail dragged slowly across the fabric. Sizzling sparks of lightning and fire flickered across it.

Suddenly — a soft sound, and the sparks caught the silk. They burned through the gold thread, spread outward, and in a moment the flames surged high and consumed the edict entirely.

Jiangche swished its tail. “What now?”

“Yin and Yang are separate — even the mortal emperor of the living world cannot forcibly tear apart another’s marriage bond. For that, one must face a heavenly tribulation, and it alerts the underworld as well.” Lang Jiuchuan smiled lightly. “I hope he can withstand the wrath of the underworld’s Panguan.”

She had been wronged. She was going to find someone to back her up.

Jiangche: “?”

Lang Jiuchuan formed the Dust-Cleansing Seal, swept the ashes of the edict clean from the tabletop, then summoned her talisman brush. She focused her mind and began drawing a talisman in the air.

At the Gate of the Underworld.

Two underworld officers suddenly saw a golden talisman appear before the ghost gate. That talisman script, that spiritual energy — did Panguan write this?

Neither ghost understood what it meant. What was this talisman doing here?

Then — without warning — the golden talisman hurled itself bang bang bang against the ghost gate, striking at it with all its force, as if trying to beat the gate open through sheer talisman power. With each strike, the gate rang out with a deafening and ear-piercing sound, causing every ghost on the Yellow Springs Road to let out wails of anguish.

For a moment, ghosts wailed and wolves howled, and the yin winds raged.

Panguan Cui came to the ghost gate with a pounding headache. He looked at the talisman, let out a long sigh, and personally opened the gate.

The gate opened.

Lang Jiuchuan appeared before him. She looked nothing like she had before — her spirit was no longer crumbled and frail, but had become solid and dense, her soul body shining with the brilliant golden light of merit. She was not far from the merging of her two souls.

This person — as long as she could survive, she would thrive.

If only her temper were a little gentler.

Lang Jiuchuan waved her hand in greeting. “Panguan Cui, long time no see!”

“Lang Jiuchuan — to knock on the ghost gate, must you truly do it in such an ostentatious manner? Other ghosts — especially the newly arrived ones — cannot endure you knocking like that.” Panguan Cui said with a black face.

“If I didn’t do it this way, I was afraid Panguan might find a reason not to see me.”

“You never come without purpose. I am very busy — I won’t invite you in as a guest today. Say what you need and say it quickly.” Panguan Cui gave a displeased grunt.

Lang Jiuchuan clicked her tongue. “We know each other well — why so heartless? Would offering me a cup of tea really cost you so much?” She made as if to push her way inside.

Panguan Cui quickly brought out a pitch-black soul-hooking chain and wrapped it around her, saying: “You are now a living soul — entering the underworld is no benefit to you. Say what you need.”

Lang Jiuchuan said with a grieved expression: “You said you’d treat me like your own kin, but it was all just to coax me into returning to life — wasn’t it? Ha.”

Panguan Cui flung her back out and was about to have the guards close the gate.

“Wait, wait — if I won’t go in, I won’t go in. The mortal emperor of the living world has forcibly torn apart my marriage bond and betrothed me to another — this violates the covenant of the Heavenly Dao. Shouldn’t the underworld be doing something about this?”

Panguan Cui paused. “What marriage bond of yours?”

“I have one, naturally.” Lang Jiuchuan smiled sweetly. “I have long since formed a marriage pact with a certain someone, with the Heavenly Dao as witness. A ghost marriage is still a marriage — is that not so? Now someone has stomped on your underworld’s authority. They’re practically relieving themselves on top of your heads. You should intervene — you should bring out the underworld’s power and deal with this. Isn’t that right?”

Panguan Cui: “…”

Understood. She was forcing him to create a fiction — and yet use it to bring down real punishment upon the Tantai clan.

Thank you, readers.