“You vile wretch — how dare you ruin my plans!”

The coarse, vicious, and savage curses poured from Shen Peng’s mouth, echoing off the walls of the small bedchamber.

Madam Shen’s cry of alarm had barely reached her lips when Shen Qinghe clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back two steps, his expression grave.

Whatever was speaking through his son right now — it was not his son.

Shen Peng fixed his gaze on Lang Jiuchuan, and his eyes suddenly turned blood-red, hideous and terrifying as a malevolent ghost, murderous intent burning within — as though he wanted nothing more than to tear her to shreds.

Jiang Che emerged from the spiritual core, and released the full Pressure Aura of the Tiger King: “How dare you be so insolent!”

Only I get to bully her. What sort of thing is this, daring to curse at her?

The domineering and ferocious killing intent surged forth, and the room was instantly swept by a gust of wind that bore down on the malevolent energy seeping from Shen Peng’s body.

Lang Jiuchuan allowed herself a rare curl of the lips. The white tiger, when it truly mattered, had not sat on the sidelines to watch the show and freeload. When it came to it, it actually showed up.

Good. This was exactly the kind of teammate she wanted.

Jiang Che was of the bloodline of the divine beast White Tiger, and had cultivated for five hundred years — long since achieving something of its own. Had its fate not been poor and its tribulation a failure, a true divine beast would have emerged in this land, becoming a great sovereign of its domain.

It had not endured the lightning tribulation, leaving only a wisp of spiritual consciousness — yet its regal, sovereign presence would not diminish on that account. Moreover, it had received enlightenment and fortune from who knew where, and with the restoration of devotional power, though its strength was not what it had been at the time of the tribulation, it was more than enough to suppress most demon beasts and malevolent spirits.

Now that its presence was fully released, it clashed directly with the black-red malevolent and inauspicious energy.

The invisible force surged and roiled throughout the room.

Shen Qinghe held Madam Shen tightly. Both had gone chalk-white, struggling to breathe.

Lang Jiuchuan saw this and wasted no time. She had no intention of trading words with that malevolent energy. With a movement of her will, the Dizhong bell in her hand seemed to come alive, beginning to sound at a measured rhythm.

One toll after another.

As though carried from ancient times — deep and unhurried.

Shen Peng clutched his head with both hands, letting out an agonized shriek: “Two against one — you shameless lot!”

It wanted to resist, but the tolling of the bell was like a demonic chant that consumed it whole, while the White Tiger’s ferocious killing intent bore down and crushed its breath entirely.

Lang Jiuchuan shook the Dizhong bell with one hand while the fingertips of her other hand pinched a talisman. Her wrist flicked, and the talisman spun and tumbled in her grasp before landing in the nearby bowl of sacred ash water.

The talisman hit the water, and fire ignited of its own accord.

After a single flash of golden light, the formerly murky sacred ash water became perfectly clear.

“Pour the water down your son’s throat.”

Shen Qinghe heard Lang Jiuchuan’s instruction and hastily released Madam Shen. He picked up the bowl and hesitated before stepping forward. His son’s gaze, fixed on him like that of a mortal enemy — would he knock the bowl aside?

As though reading his hesitation, Jiang Che’s killing intent wrapped around Shen Peng’s arms and pulled them back, rendering him unable to move.

“Pour it!”

Shen Qinghe steeled himself, pinched his son’s mouth open, and poured the contents of the bowl down his throat.

Glug, glug, glug.

Shen Peng’s face twisted into a grotesque expression. He threw his head back and let out a long howl. The malevolent energy — black shot through with blood — came spewing from his mouth like a snake trying to flee. Jiang Che leapt, opened its great maw, and swallowed it whole.

The energy was yin and inauspicious, yes — but it carried devotional power. It could digest that on its own.

Jiang Che licked its lips, not noticing the look of pure disgust Lang Jiuchuan was giving it.

The moment the malevolent energy dispersed from within Shen Peng’s body, he vomited a mouthful of black blood and crumpled backward, eyes falling shut, his face as pale as gilded paper.

“Peng’er.”

Madam Shen rushed over in alarm.

Shen Qinghe caught his son and cradled him against his chest, then looked up at Lang Jiuchuan with a questioning expression.

“He won’t die. This is a good sign.” Lang Jiuchuan’s own complexion was no better than Shen Qinghe’s — she had exerted herself considerably, and spiritual power did not come without cost.

Hearing this, Shen Qinghe and Madam Shen felt the great stone on their hearts roll free, even if the words themselves were rather blunt.

Madam Shen then noticed the room had grown quiet and calm, utterly unlike the eerie dread of moments before, and asked, “Has that thing left my son’s body?”

“Yes.” Lang Jiuchuan fixed her with a bright, steady gaze. “Your son is safe now. Which means, Madam, it is time for you to pay the price.”

What?

Madam Shen startled. Shen Qinghe’s expression changed instantly. “Could we not—”

“We cannot.” Lang Jiuchuan stared at him unflinchingly. “Reneging will invite a backlash.”

Madam Shen quickly waved her hand. “I will not renege.”

Only then did Lang Jiuchuan look satisfied. She took out the Panguan brush and said, “Then I will collect my payment.”

Madam Shen was somewhat bewildered. Her gaze fell instinctively on the Panguan brush, and she felt a chill of reverence, clutching her own sleeve tightly.

“Madam, please close your eyes.”

Madam Shen shut her eyes, trembling all over from anxiety. Having one’s lifespan reduced sounded deeply unnerving — she had no idea what to expect, which made her all the more afraid.

Shen Qinghe was even more tempted to back out. But he didn’t dare. He watched Lang Jiuchuan’s every move without blinking.

He had expected something as elaborate as before — but instead, he watched her take that strange talisman brush and trace a talisman character on Madam Shen’s forehead and body.

Lang Jiuchuan watched the golden light sink into Madam Shen’s spiritual court. Above her head, it was as though a celestial tome materialized and flipped open, revealing her life register — the number on the lifespan column shifting.

The years being subtracted disappeared, absorbed into another page.

Lang Jiuchuan could not see where they went, but she felt her own soul growing more solid. The pallor of her complexion gradually gave way, a faint flush of pink returning to her cheeks.

Lifespan imbued with the golden light of divine merit truly was a great tonic.

Lang Jiuchuan was so pleased her eyes curved with delight. Jiang Che was rolling around joyfully in her spiritual core — what a dense flow of karmic fortune.

Her visible change of expression did not escape Shen Qinghe. He watched, his heart cracking. He looked at his wife — her face had lost all color, and at her temples, a streak of white hair had appeared.

Shen Qinghe drew Shen Peng closer, his eyes turning red.

This was the price Lang Jiuchuan had spoken of.

More precious than gold and silver, more valuable than status and antiques.

Madam Shen opened her eyes, somewhat dazed. She saw Shen Qinghe’s eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s done? I don’t really feel anything.”

Shen Qinghe couldn’t produce a single word.

Madam Shen found it strange — then suddenly her vision went dark, and she pitched toward the floor.

“Madam!”

Shen Qinghe was about to let go of his son to catch her, but Madam Shen was already caught by Lang Jiuchuan. Only, Lang Jiuchuan was physically frail and had just expended her power — her strength gave out, and the two of them went down together, Lang Jiuchuan even breaking the fall as a human cushion.

Lang Jiuchuan’s back ached terribly. Another loss.

Shen Qinghe hurriedly called for help. There was no way just the two of them could manage two unconscious people on their own.

The maidservants rushed in, busying themselves in a flurry of activity.

Shen Qinghe looked at Lang Jiuchuan. “Why did my wife faint?”

“I told you — once her lifespan is reduced, she will be weak and sickly for three months. During that time, simply see that she rests and recovers.” Lang Jiuchuan glanced toward the bed where Shen Peng lay. “The malevolent energy in your son has been cleared. He will no longer continue to deteriorate. Afterward, he likewise needs gradual recuperation. There is divine protection here in the temple — there is no need to rush away. You may stay and make an offering of incense, to settle and comfort his soul.”

Hearing this, Shen Qinghe finally let out a long breath, his brow smoothing. As long as they were safe. But looking at his wife’s face, his heart ached with guilt all the same.

Lang Jiuchuan poured herself a cup of tea from the table as a matter of course, then offered another to Shen Qinghe. She looked at him and said, “Your son’s matter is resolved. As for you, my lord — have you considered buying your own life?”