Lang Jiuchuan was not so arrogant as to believe she could confront Tantai Qing by brute force alone — especially after this ordeal, which had shown her just how far-sighted and meticulous he was. She feared there were angles she might not be able to cover on her own.

She was not asking Gong Tinglan to fight Tantai Qing alongside her or help her kill him outright — she wanted him to stand on her side as her eyes, and even as a counselor, watching for the things she couldn’t see and offering her different perspectives and advice.

After all, her belief that the Grand Preceptor sought longevity was still only a series of deductions. Until the very end, no one could know what he truly desired. But his fate being inseparably bound to the dynastic fortune of the Tantai dynasty — that much was beyond question.

That he valued this dynastic fortune deeply — that too was no pretense.

If he wished to achieve the Great Dao, he would need the Tantai dynasty’s fortune to flourish and aid him in ascending to the heavens.

But all of that remained conjecture on her part.

“I don’t care about the Grand Preceptor’s true age,” Lang Jiuchuan said, “but he has been renowned for a long time and has been worshipped as a god by the world. He enjoys that feeling of lofty superiority and would never want to be toppled from his pedestal. If I am the human ritual implement meant to prosper Da Zheng’s dynastic fortune — if sacrificing me alone could ensure Da Zheng’s stability — then what is the purpose behind his stealing the fortune of these other great clans?” Her chest rose and fell sharply. “I come back to the same answer: nothing is done without benefit. He must be aiming at something far greater. I alone cannot afford to divide my attention. At this point, I am likely no match for him either. I need allies. Of course, if what I’ve said goes too far, you may simply treat it as unsaid.”

People have their private interests, and every clan likewise — Gong Tinglan, as the young master of his clan, could not act recklessly and disregard his family’s interests on a whim.

Gong Tinglan gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Gong Qi once said you held considerable wariness toward the Xuan Clan. I understand that the actions of the Xuan Clan over the past century have in truth damaged many cultivators’ hearts — some of what was done was outright contemptible — so it is entirely natural that you feel this way. But as for the Gong Family…”

He pressed his lips together and continued, “To speak plainly — the Gong Family also has ambitions. We also wish to pass our ancestors’ legacy down through the generations, just like the Qian, Li, and Yang clans, and become an eminent family spanning a thousand years or more — to truly establish ourselves within the Dao sect, found our own lineage, and become an existence that future generations will praise. That is my ambition as well.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes curved with a slight smile. “I understand.”

Gong Tinglan nodded. “Both I and the family behind me have ambitions. In the past, the Gong Family acted as it did out of compulsion — the world was unsettled, and had we not gone along with the prevailing currents, we might well have been squeezed out of the Dao cultivation world entirely. The Xuan Clan too was once admirable — it was only later that the heart of the Dao changed within them, growing no longer pure, but greedy and hungry for power. This shift caused the Xuan Clan to decay and set its Dao on a path toward ruin.”

He glanced again toward the Yang Family’s ancestral graves and said quietly, “A Grand Preceptor worshipped as a divine being, secretly engaging in the theft of others’ fortune — there was a moment when I felt that the righteous path itself had died.”

“No,” Lang Jiuchuan said, her voice carrying an unyielding certainty. “There are always those who truly cultivate in hidden mountain depths, and those who conceal themselves among the masses. As long as people live on, the Dao will not die — and the righteous path least of all. If the righteous path dies, that is when this world becomes a living hell, the age when everything collapses into chaos.”

“You’re right. I let one moment of shock twist my thinking.” The gaze Gong Tinglan turned on Lang Jiuchuan was full of sympathy and admiration. “I had not imagined that you bore all of this alone.”

Lang Jiuchuan shook her head. “It is all in the past. The person I am now is no longer the obedient disciple who revered her master — I am a rebellious one.”

“When he sacrificed you, the bond of master and disciple was repaid in full at the moment you died. How could he ever deserve to call himself your master?”

Lang Jiuchuan paused, then smiled — a quiet, genuine smile. Yes. The moment he killed her, she had already severed ties with her teacher.

“Then your answer is?”

Gong Tinglan’s clear eyes gleamed with the piercing light unique to those who walk the righteous Dao. His voice was cold and resolute: “Tantai Qing harmed his own disciple and extinguished all human feeling within himself — his deeds defy heaven’s principles. And in his greed to steal the fortune of the great clans, he laid malicious traps and treated countless lives as weeds beneath his feet. His conduct is an affront to gods and men alike. Therefore — dragging him down from his pedestal is not your affair alone. He has acted in inverse defiance of all natural order, shaken the blessings of the human world, and brought chaos to all beneath the heavens. For such unprecedented and monstrous evil, I, Gong Tinglan, may be shallow in cultivation — but as the young master of the Gong Family, I know that the two words ‘righteous path’ weigh heavier than Mount Tai.”

The righteous path means: strike down the wicked and set the world aright.

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think I’m amplifying his crimes out of personal grudge, and using that as a pretext to drag you and the Gong Family into this? Opposing him — I imagine nothing good will come of it.”

“If you act out of personal grudge, then I act on behalf of all living beings under heaven — and to seek justice for the countless wronged souls who died because of his evil. We simply happen to share a common goal.” Gong Tinglan clasped his hands behind his back and gazed into the distance, his tone cool and decisive. “This villain’s true face must be revealed to the world. His malevolent arts must be broken, and the original order must be restored. Even if the road ahead is difficult, I would die a hundred deaths without regret.”

In this world, someone must always forge a path — through thorns and all — for justice, for light, for the righteous way.

The morning light finally broke fully through the clouds, gilding the silhouettes of both of them in a faint golden haze.

Lang Jiuchuan clasped her hands toward Gong Tinglan and performed a solemn Daoist bow. No more words were needed, and no doubts need be voiced. Even if nothing came of it, this trust alone was worth a toast.

Having reached their alliance, and wanting to verify their suspicions, the two then visited the ancestral graves of the Qian and Li clans. Regrettably, since both clans’ bloodlines had been completely severed, their ancestral graves had long since fallen dead and void of any energy — naturally, there was no formation left to identify.

Yet Lang Jiuchuan’s knowledge had its roots in the Grand Preceptor’s teachings, and with the Yang Family’s fortune-stealing formation fresh in her mind as a reference, she spent some effort and found a faint trace of fortune-theft.

“It was indeed him.” Lang Jiuchuan discarded an expended ritual implement, her expression cold and grim.

Gong Tinglan said gravely, “What we know of now are the Qian, Li, and Yang clans — but Da Zheng has no shortage of great and powerful families. Who is to say there are not other clans experiencing the same catastrophe right now, and we simply have no way to point the finger at him?”

Lang Jiuchuan’s expression grew thoughtful. She tapped the Dizhong lightly with her fingertip and said, “If there are, then it proves he truly needs this fortune — in which case we can break his schemes one by one. Even if we cannot directly expose him, we can at least dismantle his calculations. Once he has been provoked enough times, he will grow desperate and take reckless risks — and when that moment comes, the fox’s tail will finally show itself.”

“If that happens, it will likely be the moment he fully abandons concealment,” Gong Tinglan said, his expression grave. “That will also be his moment to strike with everything he has. I fear…” His eyes were heavy with concern. “We will need more like-minded people on our side — to jointly denounce this wicked one and uphold the righteous path for all living beings.”

Lang Jiuchuan agreed deeply.

Cang Mountain.

Tantai Qing pressed down on the roiling surge in his chest, suppressing the backlash force. He braced one hand against the stone altar and kneaded his temples with two fingers, smoothing down the throbbing veins. He let out a short, amused breath. “Little wolf cub — showing your fangs at last, are you? Then let your master see exactly how many pieces of flesh you can bite off — and whether you can bear the consequences.”

It was a pity about that remaining trace of fortune. But no matter. If the little wolf cub was capable of breaking it, then his careful years of instruction had not been wasted. Consider it a parting gift to mark her completion of her training.

A faint, inscrutable smile curved Tantai Qing’s lips. He folded his legs into a seated position, pressed two fingers into a hand seal, and in an instant, it seemed as though wisps of spiritual energy welled up from deep beneath the earth veins of his cave dwelling and began circulating around him. He then compressed and refined them, pressing them down into his elixir field.