Sacrificing righteousness over kinship.

Lang Jiuchuan’s proposal to kill with words cast the entire hall into dead silence. The various Dao cultivators looked at her with strange expressions, then at the head of the Rong Family, and finally settled their eyes on the Black Impermanence.

Black Impermanence: “……”

I’m merely a wandering ghost who happened to drop by to watch the drama of the mortal realm. Feel free to ignore me.

The head of the Rong Family’s glare at Lang Jiuchuan was so poisonous it might as well have been dipped in venom — he longed to tear her into hundreds of pieces, to shred even her very soul.

Yet at this moment, he could not strike. And he dared not.

He prided himself on the righteous path. If he attacked Lang Jiuchuan merely over a few words from her, not a single person here would let him walk away with it, not to mention there was a Impermanence from the underworld lurking in the corner, watching him with piercing vigilance.

The head of the Rong Family’s gaze moved to the vague shadow lurking in the corner’s darkness, and his vision seemed to momentarily go black. Instinctively, his whole body drew taut. He looked down at Rong Huanxuan, lying unconscious on the floor, and his hands trembled involuntarily.

He was caught between the tiger and a difficult position.

Lang Jiuchuan showed not an ounce of fear — her eyes held nothing but deep, undisguised malice.

Thinking he could use this ploy of cutting off the tail to escape and take the whole family away unscathed — there was no such easy fortune to be had.

Rong Huanxuan had been recklessly chasing cultivation, had gone astray and fallen into demonic madness. The solution he had devised was to kill another child to repair her Dao root for her — which showed how completely he had poured his efforts into her. Then, just as she seemed poised to climb the heavenly ladder once more, she fell back down — and now he must personally extinguish the heir he had placed all his hopes in. What must that feel like?

Wishing for death — given that cold, selfish heart of his, surely not quite that. But there must be festering rage and humiliation.

The smile at the corner of Lang Jiuchuan’s lips widened, though the warmth never reached her eyes. Things stolen and seized by force would ultimately receive the ultimate backlash they brought with them.

Look — had that backlash not arrived right now?

“Young Friend Lang, one ought to show mercy when mercy can be shown,” the head of the Rong Family said, his gaze cold as he looked at Lang Jiuchuan. “This old one has already made clear that the crimes of this wretched creature shall be prosecuted in full accordance with the laws of our Daoist tradition’s Enforcement Hall, without leniency. Young Patriarch Gong surely knows what the Enforcement Hall is.”

His deep black eyes swept over Lang Jiuchuan, calm to a frightening degree — yet Lang Jiuchuan did not miss the murderous intent roiling in their darkest depths, nor the invisible pressure he was releasing with his cultivation base.

Was he trying to press her down with his cultivation?

Lang Jiuchuan was not even afraid of the Lingxu Elder at Foundation Establishment level, whom she had struck down into ruin. She would not fear this enemy who had already suffered a backlash — were the circumstances right, she would charge at him right now and fight to the death.

To throw all caution to the wind for the sake of swift and satisfying vengeance was possible, of course — but she also had to consider the Lang Family.

Lang Jiuchuan suppressed the fire in her eyes. She did not even push her power outward in retaliation, for the time for direct confrontation had not yet come. Why expose her true strength?

Temporary shows of force would only make the enemy more cautious and vigilant.

The head of the Rong Family’s action might also have been a probe to gauge the depth of her abilities.

But Lang Jiuchuan would not show weakness.

And so, facing that pressure, rather than counter-attacking, she stood with perfect composure, her voice light and unhurried: “The head of the Rong Family’s words are mistaken. What is there to ‘show mercy’ about? Young Mistress Rong has clearly brought this upon herself. Furthermore, what she has committed is no ordinary transgression — it is blood sacrifice of living souls, the weaving of murderous karma, the embrace of demonic arts and wickedness. Such conduct shakes the very foundation of the Daoist tradition, is a direct challenge to the core of the righteous path, and constitutes grave evil. As shown by what was revealed in the Iniquity Mirror, she has been cultivating for barely under a year and yet already shows signs of imminent demonic transformation. Everyone, look at the Third Prince.”

The crowd startled. That’s right — they had overlooked not only the Black Impermanence but also Tantai Cong, whose life or death was unknown. Someone rushed over, examined him, and said: “He’s still breathing, but…”

They looked at the area around Tantai Cong’s lower back, not daring to touch it.

Lang Jiuchuan said: “The Third Prince is Young Mistress Rong’s betrothed, is he not? When Young Mistress Rong fell into demonic madness, she recognized no one — with a single strike she cleaved him at the waist. Whether he survives remains unknown, and even if he survives by some miracle, he will be crippled for the rest of his days. If the head of the Rong Family does not sacrifice righteousness over kinship for this, how will he account for himself to the Sage Emperor?”

The head of the Rong Family’s gaze turned ice-cold. This wretched creature — she has caused yet another catastrophe of this magnitude!

“Having cultivated for barely under a year, she already recognizes no one — if these wicked arts were to reach completion, they would surely throw all living beings into chaos and suffering!” Zhishang frowned deeply. “Should demons and monsters enter the world, the land would be reduced to rivers of blood.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s lips curved slightly. This rigid old Daoist was principled to a fault, but when the moment required it, he was a useful blade.

“Fellow Daoist Lang and the others speak with reason. Head of the Rong Family, the Enforcement Hall upholds the law impartially — that goes without saying. However, Young Mistress Rong holds a particular status, being the direct bloodline of the Rong Family and its future head. If she is handed to the Enforcement Hall for judgment, who is to say that some of the Enforcement Hall’s elders might not show favoritism out of regard for you? Furthermore, the Enforcement Hall conducts its affairs without public disclosure — who is to say the world will not suspect the Rong Family of privately engineering some substitution to preserve her, all while maintaining a show of clean hands?” Gong Tinglan spoke with a face of perfect righteousness. “Naturally, I believe the head of the Rong Family is not the sort of base creature who would do such a thing, and would never act in that manner — but the people of the world are hard to account for!”

“Insolence!” The head of the Rong Family’s beard and hair bristled. His sleeve snapped through the air in a furious swipe, and a surge of steel-edged energy roiled out, pressing down toward both of them.

The Young Patriarch Gong’s own sleeves swept out, sending his own energy surging to meet it.

A thunderous boom. The bedchamber trembled.

The Young Patriarch Gong’s expression was coldly severe: “I am young and presumptuous — if I have given offense, I ask the head of the Rong Family’s forgiveness. But what I have said is for the sake of the Rong Family’s centuries of clean reputation. After all, the Rong Family’s founding ancestor, the True Immortal Miaorong, gained his name by slaying demons of seduction — if he were to learn that a descendant of his lineage had fallen to demonic corruption and disgraced the family’s conduct, then…”

The elders of the imperial clan exchanged dark, sidelong glances with one another, and a strange feeling rose among them — that they were old, and this world now belonged to its young. How could these youths be so verbally lethal, one after another?

Could it be that when they cultivated the Dao, they first cultivated the art of killing with words?

Word had it that the Gong Family’s elders had largely settled into retirement and rarely concerned themselves with worldly affairs, and that the head of the Gong Family spent the majority of his time in closed-door cultivation — with the Gong Family’s affairs amounting to the Young Patriarch Gong’s sole domain. Now it was clear why.

The Gong Family had a worthy successor indeed — unlike the Rong Family. The imperial clan was the same; not one descendant could hold their own. As for the Feng Family? Best not mention the opportunist fence-sitters.

The Young Patriarch Feng, who had been happily enjoying the spectacle, felt the elders’ looks of disdain fall on him and couldn’t help flinching. What had he done?

The head of the Rong Family’s face had gone iron-grey.

Never in his life had he suffered such humiliation — not since he had succeeded in Foundation Establishment. Every gaze directed at him since then had been filled with reverence and fervid respect. Nothing like this — being verbally cornered time and again by two young fools whose combined ages didn’t even equal his own.

A supreme disgrace.

“We have no intention of questioning the Enforcement Hall — we only wish to silence the tongues of the world, and to demonstrate that the Rong Family has no intention of betraying the righteous Daoist tradition. What would it cost the head of the Rong Family to personally abolish her cultivation?” Lang Jiuchuan said lightly. “Unless the head of the Rong Family still believes that this woman can go on serving as the Rong Family’s heir, and therefore feels compelled to protect her. If not — the fault of the child’s deeds falls upon the parent who failed to teach them. The head of the Rong Family ought to give an accounting to those living souls who were blood-sacrificed.”

The head of the Rong Family’s face twitched. His breath abruptly turned dark and oppressive, and cold light exploded from his eyes — as though the most untouchable nerve in him had been struck. Terrifying pressure erupted outward.

His breath shifted so violently that Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze changed ever so slightly. Had she just said something that struck a nerve — something that drove that rage beyond his ability to contain?

She cast her mind back rapidly. The fault of the child’s deeds falls upon the parent who failed to teach them?

Lang Jiuchuan immediately looked down at Rong Huanxuan on the floor, then back at the head of the Rong Family. The fingers hidden within her sleeve flew through a series of hand seals, and a thread of blood mist rose from Rong Huanxuan’s lips — like a serpent it wound through the air, connecting toward the head of the Rong Family.

Lang Jiuchuan: “?”

Gong Tinglan: “!”