The Rong Family patriarch possessed a life-bound treasure: the Shihun Fan — the Ten Thousand Methods Soul-Devouring Banner. Those drawn into the banner would find all ten thousand formations within it activating at once, trapping their souls inside to become nourishment for the Shihun Fan. This treasure was passed down only to successive Rong Family patriarchs — it was the life-bound ritual implement of each generation’s patriarch. And so, across so many generations, how many souls the Shihun Fan had devoured as sustenance was beyond calculation.

The more fierce and resentful the devoured souls, the stronger the Shihun Fan’s power would grow. To wield it and bring out its greatest efficacy required an ever greater expenditure of essence energy and spiritual force. Moreover, as a life-bound treasure, should it be destroyed and the backlash sustained, the wielder’s soul would inevitably be damaged.

What A’Piao gave Lang Jiuchuan was an embroidered ball resembling a red lotus — no larger than a baby’s fist, yet scarlet through and through. Its surface bore twelve grades of red lotus, crimson as blazing fire, with clusters of flame that seemed on the verge of bursting forth from its body, making one’s very soul tremble.

“This is the Honglian Embroidered Ball — or you might call it the Red Lotus Karmic Fire Ball.” A’Piao’s face showed a flash of pride. “This ball is extraordinarily profound, its power boundless. What it unleashes is karmic fire — a blaze capable of burning away all sins and transgressions. To put it plainly, this thing has been refined and tempered within the Red Lotus Karmic Fire of the Nine Abyss Hell.”

Only his master possessed such capability, to have obtained a treasure of this kind.

Lang Jiuchuan reached out with trembling hands and received it, examining it closely. The flames of the Red Lotus Karmic Fire were in fact streak upon streak of flame-script talismanic inscriptions — supremely righteous and fiercely searing.

But what arrested her attention was not the power A’Piao had described — it was the nagging sense that she had seen this treasure somewhere before.

“That said,” A’Piao continued coolly, “not just anyone can wield a treasure. Without the ability, without sufficient power, even having it in hand makes it nothing but a dead object — and would likely bring disaster down upon oneself. After all, possessing a jade tablet invites guilt. Instruments and people alike have spirits. The artifact spirit within this is one that lives — but whether you can awaken it and bring it to life for your use, that depends on you…”

Hum.

A’Piao: “…?”

He watched as Lang Jiuchuan extended her palm, and the small, exquisite scarlet embroidered ball rose above it, beginning to spin — faster and faster.

This was bad.

Pff-crack.

A jet of blood-scarlet flame erupted from the Red Lotus Ball in a brilliant flash of radiance. A’Piao let out a sudden cry and vaulted away from the table, ducking into the shadows in the corner, shrieking: “Have you no sense of propriety? No sense of friend or foe? You little scoundrel!”

Lang Jiuchuan quickly reined in her Daoist resonance, apologizing ingratiatingly: “My apologies — I hadn’t yet gotten acquainted with it, and almost hurt you.”

A’Piao ground his teeth, feeling as though his entire ghostly being had been rattled. He urgently recited a spell formula, drawing the surrounding Yin energy toward himself and piling it on, and only once the power of that karmic fire had dispersed did he dare to emerge. “I hadn’t even told you the incantation yet. How did you activate it?”

Lang Jiuchuan extended one slender index finger and gave the scarlet embroidered ball resting in her palm a light tap. “No idea. My mind stirred, my Daoist resonance surged, and it just caught fire.”

A’Piao: “…”

That is simply going too far.

Lang Jiuchuan blinked. “I died and came back once, didn’t I — my true identity is still unknown. Yet I am so attuned to it like this. Don’t you think… this might actually be my own treasure to begin with? Otherwise, why would we resonate so deeply?”

A’Piao laughed in spite of his fury. “Whether you are who you think you are, I genuinely don’t know. But what I do know is that there is no one in all the world as shameless as you — your skin is not three feet thick, it is three zhang. The nerve of saying such a thing.”

“I just have a very strong feeling.”

A’Piao’s face darkened. “Whatever feeling you have — this is borrowed, and it must be returned. Otherwise, our Pavilion Master will come make trouble for you.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean — if I don’t return it, he will personally come find trouble with me? Then I would finally get to meet him!”

A’Piao felt suddenly drained, too exhausted to continue. “Since you’ve apparently figured out how to use it — kindly get out of here. My heart is weary.”

Lang Jiuchuan smiled, tucked the Red Lotus Ball away, and composed her expression. “The Rong Family gathering — shall we go together? Don’t you wish to bear witness to the downfall of the place where your former dear friend met his end?”

A’Piao smiled with unfeigned pleasure. “That, naturally, I cannot miss.”

And so it was decided.

Pomegranate Garden.

The Imperial Princess Tantai sat at a table, her eyes fixed upon the Taiji Eight Trigrams divination board before her. Nearby rested several small bamboo figurines and several five-element banners of different colors, which she had arranged in the various positions of the trigram board. She toyed with the figurines as she listened to the disciple standing a short distance away deliver his report. When he finished speaking, she picked up a figurine and turned it between her fingers.

“This last half-year, Wu Jing has been quite lively.” She cast a mild glance toward the Elder of the Eight Directions. “Elder Bafang, would you say these happenings are ordinary?”

That Elder Bafang possessed a pair of entirely white eyes, yet discerned direction with perfect accuracy. He turned toward her and said: “Holy Maiden, all this bustle stems from a single person. To call it ordinary would be self-deception.”

The Imperial Princess Tantai pressed her lips together, her gaze resting on the trigram board’s positions. The figurine in her hand stayed unplaced. Her thoughts were somewhat scattered.

“The Holy Maiden’s thoughts are in disarray. The Kun position is where to place it,” Elder Bafang said gravely. “Is it because of the news from Shantong?”

The Imperial Princess Tantai placed the figurine in the position he had named, then answered obliquely, murmuring: “Can the Kun position bring one to Wangsheng?”

Elder Bafang’s brows knitted.

The Imperial Princess Tantai picked up a command banner and turned it over in thought for a moment. “You are also right. This woman appears to have come out of nowhere — and has been living on a Zhuang Zi estate all along. To possess such capability, one wonders which great master she serves as disciple. She and her companions have long hidden themselves in plain sight, yet suddenly act so conspicuously. What is their purpose? That is what is truly out of the ordinary.”

What she left unsaid was this: a person so utterly bent on stirring chaos — she had met one before. But regrettably…

The Imperial Princess Tantai set down the command banner. Her hand gave a slight tremor — the banner landed wrong. The formation shifted: life-energy transformed into killing intent!

Her expression grew rather unpleasant. Dissatisfaction flickered across her face, followed swiftly by a sudden wash of disinterest, her brows and eyes no longer concealing a trace of weariness.

Elder Bafang said: “Perhaps the Holy Maiden should attend to her coursework first — perform a full cycle of the Grand Heavenly Circuit to settle her thoughts.”

“Mm.” She paused, then added: “I will report this matter to my master myself. Elder need not concern himself.”

“Very well.” Elder Bafang rose, gave a slight nod, and withdrew. At the doorway, with his back to her, he added: “The Holy Maiden must always bear in mind her identity. You exist for Da Han, you were born for the people, and for the long-enduring prosperity of our Da Han, you must be willing to give everything.”

The Imperial Princess Tantai’s body gave a slight shiver. “I understand.”

Her identity was both her honor and her responsibility.

When the room was emptied of all others, she swept the bamboo figurines and command banners to the side and walked to the window, gazing out at the sky as it gradually deepened toward dusk, her thoughts wandering.

Is it you?

Better if it’s not.

The Princess Tantai’s eyes grew misted. A disciple called from the courtyard: “The Sacred One requests an audience with the Holy Maiden.”

“I will not see him.” She said it coldly, then wiped the dampness from the corners of her eyes, turned, and walked back inside. She retrieved her messaging jade talisman, hesitated slightly, and then pressed her lips together and recorded a message.

In Wu Jing there is a woman — the ninth young miss of Marquis Kaiping’s household. She has incited division within the Mystic Clans.

She herself is that which is out of the ordinary.

But even after the message was recorded, she did not recite the incantation to send it forth — she gripped it tightly in her palm instead.

Wait a little longer.