Lang Jiuchuan had seen all manner of women in Wu Jing, but none could rival this one in beauty.

She possessed a flawless countenance of extreme cold elegance — her skin surpassing snow in whiteness, her nose bridge high and refined, her brows and eyes like distant mountains veiled in ink-wash hues, cool and distant. Her jet-black hair, dark as ink jade, was gathered high beneath a lotus crown, which made her neck appear long and slender, her bearing otherworldly. She was like a celestial maiden descended from the ninth heaven — lofty, radiant, and inviolable.

What made Lang Jiuchuan sigh with admiration was the aura surrounding her — pure and powerful spiritual energy, as though a ring of pale golden luminescence perpetually flowed around her, making her seem all the more priceless, her dignified majesty utterly innate, not to be profaned.

All of this was the power of merit and vow — this woman was supplied with the power of faith!

How enviable.

“It’s the Holy Maiden!”

Someone called out — no one knew who — and then knelt down, prompting the surrounding common folk to kneel as well, palms pressed together in reverence. Everyone gazed upon her with awe, their eyes carrying a measure of respect and adoration, beseeching the Holy Maiden to bestow her blessings.

In the Kingdom of Da Han, the Huguo Holy Maiden and the National Preceptor were both figures looked up to with reverence. Their command of Daoist arts ran deep; they existed for the sake of the nation. Whenever great calamities struck or major ceremonial festivals arrived, they would pray for favorable winds and rains, bless the people, and shelter the multitudes. They were deeply venerated.

So this was the Huguo Holy Maiden — the Imperial Princess Tantai.

Lang Jiuchuan understood at once. No wonder she possessed the power of faith — she was the Holy Maiden, after all. Her followers, if not spread throughout all of Da Han, were at least known to every soul in the land, who naturally looked up to her with admiration and longing.

She stood quietly on the main thoroughfare, yet no one dared approach her side, as though even drawing near would be a desecration of her pristine aura.

Lang Jiuchuan and she exchanged a distant gaze. The moment their eyes met — those deep, still-water eyes of hers — Lang Jiuchuan felt her heart give an unprovoked lurch. Immediately after, something sharp seemed to pierce through her chest, the pain causing her body to curve slightly inward. A flash of imagery blazed through her mind, too fast for even her to grasp.

Her brows drew together tightly. She looked up at the Imperial Princess Tantai — whose gaze had similarly settled upon her. Those glass-like eyes of hers held an expression that was complex and unreadable: there was longing, and grief, and resentment.

Yet the complexity lasted only a moment. By the time Lang Jiuchuan looked over, she had already resumed that inviolable air of dignified majesty — chin slightly raised, the look she cast down upon her like that of a proud peacock.

The air seemed to congeal in that instant.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at her, and suddenly smiled. How interesting. A Holy Maiden beyond reach — cold, noble, powerful, and sacred, gathering within herself every beauty and honor this world had to offer. And yet, from within her, she could sense the faintest trace of something wholly incongruous with that sacred aura surrounding her — hollowness. Even… a weariness and constraint that had been forcibly suppressed.

It must be an illusion. A woman who had enjoyed every honor the world could bestow — how could she possibly give rise to such feelings?

She feared she had grown so swept up in the approach of her long-awaited vengeance that she had gone idle enough to worry over and speculate about such an untouchable Holy Maiden.

Lang Jiuchuan was the first to look away, suppressing that inexplicable unease in her chest, and turned to step into Tongtian Pavilion.

The Imperial Princess Tantai watched her turn away, and turned as well — her transcendent face still untroubled as still water. Surrounded by her attendants, she departed. Yet after only two steps, she could not help but stop, turning her head to look back at the woman who had just stepped into Tongtian Pavilion.

That woman — clad in a simple, unadorned pale green robe — and yet that cool, solitary, unyielding aura could not be concealed. Her complexion was pale, her figure slender, and yet those eyes of hers were unforgettable.

Too deep. Too piercing. Within them seemed to coil the vortex of an infinite storm — capable of effortlessly drawing a person in and grinding them to pieces, bit by bit.

A strange face. A stranger. And yet those eyes, that quality lurking in the depths of her gaze that refused to be hidden, produced an absurd, impossible sense of familiarity.

Surely it was not her?

How could it possibly be her?

And if it was not her, then who was she — and why did she stir such turbulence within her?

“Go and find out who that woman just now was,” the Imperial Princess Tantai said coldly to the disciple at her side.

“Yes.”

Lang Jiuchuan had already entered a private room in Tongtian Pavilion. Jiangche was still lingering in the afterglow of that brief, stunning glimpse, and said wistfully: “Tell me — we’re both women. How can there be such a difference between one person and another?”

“Indeed — she’s an immortal from the heavens, and I’m mud from the bottom of the earth.”

“Hm… ow!” Jiangche had his fur yanked hard, and let out a howl: “You wretch, spare the fur!”

Lang Jiuchuan let out a huff, turning her gaze toward A’Piao as he entered. “The Holy Maiden has returned to the capital — do you know what for?”

A’Piao shook his head. “Who knows. I’ve heard she spends her days at the National Preceptor’s side, following him in his cultivation of Daoist arts. Except for unavoidable grand ceremonies, she is rarely seen. Have you seen her?”

“Just now, a glimpse. Something felt a little strange.” Lang Jiuchuan lifted her gaze toward the empty air, and within her bright, clear eyes, there appeared a rare flicker of bewilderment and inquiry. “She is strange.”

“How so?”

“It feels as though she is wearing a thick mask — not like herself, and yet she is herself. The Huguo Holy Maiden, who commands the faith and vow-power of countless followers, is naturally revered and looked up to by all people. And yet… somehow, one gets the sense that she is not happy.”

A’Piao gave a cold laugh. “Have you settled your great vengeance yet? And here you are worrying about someone you’ve met for the first time.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s lips curved. “Is it not almost settled? I’ve come specifically to borrow a few of your most prized treasures to keep on hand.”

A’Piao laughed despite his exasperation. “Last time you ‘borrowed’ the Three Pure Ones Bronze Coin Sword from our Pavilion, and you still haven’t returned it. How do you have the nerve to even ask?”

Lang Jiuchuan blinked, her expression utterly unperturbed. “That sword absorbed the foul miasma of a demon. I’m currently nurturing it back to purity — once it’s restored, I’ll return it. Don’t worry, I won’t keep it from you.”

A’Piao gave her a look that said do you think I believe that, but set the matter aside. “The Rong Family just issued a Mystic Decree, inviting the Mystic Sect and all men of discernment under heaven to attend the great gathering at the Rong Family estate as witnesses to Wu Youzi’s investiture as the new Young Master. So Wu Youzi has become Young Master again? He has been crippled all these years — what did he do to recover his strength?”

Lang Jiuchuan shook her head. “I don’t know. But it must have come at the cost of himself — his very soul and spirit.”

“He has fallen into demonic corruption?” A’Piao looked at her. “If he has fallen to demonic corruption, that is one thing once vengeance is done and dusted. But if he has lost his humanity and been consumed by demonic energy, beyond recovery, and begins a great slaughter — what will you do?”

“I will slay him,” said Lang Jiuchuan without a moment’s hesitation.

A’Piao’s brow gave a startled twitch. “Even though he is your ally?”

“That’s right,” Lang Jiuchuan said. “Settle grievances where grievances exist, settle wrongs where wrongs exist — but that does not mean dragging all of heaven and earth down to the grave along with you. That is not what I want. If he falls to demonic corruption and wishes to begin a great slaughter, I will use killing to stop killing. Likewise, if I fall to demonic corruption, and no longer recognize kith or kin — I will willingly accept heaven and earth’s united punishment.”

To live without a bottom line was to surrender all restraint. Such a person would inevitably see their cultivation foundation collapse and crumble. She had never wished to become evil — but should anyone force her hand, she could become evil. Only, that day would most likely also be the day she ceased to exist in this world.

Only then did A’Piao draw out a treasure and pass it to her. “Then go and settle this karmic debt.”