Lang Jiuchuan had grown acutely sensitive to matters of fate and destiny—even the faintest mention of such things was enough to make her heart lurch. She couldn’t help but wonder whether it was connected to Tantai Qing, much like right now, when hearing Lang Cailing speak of a child born with an exceptionally noble phoenix fate, she instinctively drew a parallel to her own destiny.
Letting preconceived notions take hold was unwise—it would cloud her judgment.
Lang Jiuchuan silently recited a mind-clearing incantation to suppress the thought, then said, “A phoenix fate of the highest nobility—how did you come to know of it? Was the child’s birth date and hour simply mentioned in passing?”
“The child was born but didn’t survive,” Lang Cailing said, her expression turning a little strange. “My mother-in-law was so grief-stricken that she let it slip. But you know, Ninth Sister, speaking in the terms of your Daoist tradition, wouldn’t a fate like that be protected from misfortune? And even if it weren’t, a few small trials and tribulations would hardly be out of the ordinary—life is long, after all, and bumps along the road are only natural. Who ever truly enjoys the kind of smooth, untroubled path that people speak of in wishful tales?”
Lang Jiuchuan glanced over at her. “Third Sister sees things rather clearly.”
Lang Cailing sighed. “Of all us sisters, I married best—the prestigious Duke Wei’s household, vast in wealth and influence—though in truth, a girl from a family as nearly fallen as mine had little right to expect such a match. Yet fate was kind to me. The Duke himself insisted on the arrangement, and my husband fell for me at first sight. Even my mother-in-law’s dissatisfaction couldn’t change it. Most importantly, I was quick to prove my worth—barely three months after entering the household, I was with child, and I gave birth to a son on the first try. But as you know, the larger the family, the greater the strife. If I couldn’t see through it all and keep a level head, I’d have rotted away inside that household long ago.”
Lang Jiuchuan said evenly, “The fact that you can think all this through means you’ll never let your life go to ruin. When confusion reigns, playing the fool can spare you a great deal of trouble—but if your heart remains sharp and clear beneath it all, things can never truly go too wrong for you.”
“These days, no matter how displeased my mother-in-law is, she doesn’t dare show it openly.” Lang Cailing looked at Lang Jiuchuan with a complicated expression. “And truth be told, I have Ninth Sister to thank for that. I never imagined that the confidence and standing I now have in that household comes not from my brothers, but from an unmarried cousin—my own unmarried cousin at that.”
The Lang Family had produced a female Daoist who had attained the Golden Lotus and walked the path of the Dao—and this mere female Daoist had torn the Xuan Clan’s Rong Family to pieces and stripped them of all their former glory. That was no small feat.
So how could her mother-in-law dare show open disdain toward her? Wasn’t she afraid that she might call upon her younger cousin to make her life miserable?
But when it came to the matter of her eldest sister-in-law, her mother-in-law was like a desperate patient clutching at any cure—she had approached Lang Cailing with tender words and gentle reasoning, with one sole aim in mind: to take the child she had borne with such effort and difficulty and send the baby to live beside her eldest daughter for a few years. She had even said that once the eldest daughter had recovered, the child could be brought back.
Hmph.
By then the child would have grown up, and whether the child would even recognize her as its mother was anyone’s guess. How could she bear to part with it?
“Listen to me, I’ve gone off on a tangent. You were saying—why would a fate like that lead to dying so young?”
Lang Jiuchuan smiled faintly. “Indeed. A child born with the noble phoenix fate has the protection of auspicious stars. For such a child to perish so soon after birth, one of two things must have happened: either someone stripped that noble fate away at the very beginning and replaced it with one destined for early death—or there is something else entirely hidden beneath the surface.”
Lang Cailing gasped and covered her mouth. “Stealing a fate—can something like that really be done? But the child was barely a day old when she was gone. When my eldest sister-in-law gave birth, only trusted attendants were present, and my mother-in-law was there as well. Even if the midwife and others knew the hour of birth, there’s no way they could have passed that information along so quickly.”
“Foreknowledge of fate,” Lang Jiuchuan said, “is not considered extraordinary in Daoist tradition.” After all, hadn’t she herself been drawn into an elaborate and meticulously laid trap by just such means?
Lang Cailing was stunned. “But the child had only just been born, and already…that’s truly terrifying!”
Lang Jiuchuan lowered her gaze and did not follow up on that remark. There are even more terrifying experiences than that—and the person who lived through them is sitting right in front of you.
“The child is yours. If you are unwilling, not even your mother-in-law can forcibly take her away to be raised by someone else. Whether you can protect your daughter comes down to your own resolve,” Lang Jiuchuan said plainly. “Unless you yourself choose to use the child to bargain for something—but that is a different matter entirely.”
“How could I!” Lang Cailing said miserably. “I’m just worried sick. She brings it up every day, and even my father-in-law has started saying things like, ‘What’s the harm in the child having an extra godmother?’ Isn’t that just going over to their side? Ha—now I see it clearly. When it truly comes down to it, a daughter-in-law will always rank below a daughter in their eyes.”
She gave a short, sardonic laugh.
“As I said—if you are unwilling, they have no way to forcibly take the child from your side and hand her to another to raise. If they tried, the weight of public opinion alone would drown them. Great families prize their reputations above all else, do they not?”
Lang Cailing sighed. “I know how to use public opinion to my advantage, but I’d rather not resort to that unless absolutely necessary—it would drive a wedge between me and my husband. That is why, the moment I heard you were back at the family residence, I wanted to invite you to visit, so you could treat my eldest sister-in-law’s madness.”
“Not driving out malevolent spirits, not searching for the child—but treating madness?” Lang Jiuchuan raised a brow. “I had assumed you sought me out because of my reputation, that this had something to do with the strange and supernatural—such as whether that child truly died.”
Lang Cailing’s eyelids flickered. “The child was buried. How could that be false?”
Not necessarily.
Lang Jiuchuan silently took a sip of tea and said nothing. Without having met the people involved, she was in no position to draw conclusions. She simply felt—given what the child’s fate had apparently been—that it was peculiar for such a life to end within a single day. Especially given what she herself had once experienced.
This matter interests her.
“My eldest sister-in-law is actually a good person—she has never treated me poorly. She is a daughter of a ducal household, raised with excellent breeding, and is broadly courteous and well-mannered. After six years of marriage, she finally had this precious child—this apple of her eye—only for it not to survive even a day. Not just my mother-in-law—even I feel heartbroken for her,” Lang Cailing said. “But heartbreak is heartbreak, and I still cannot hand my own flesh and blood over to be raised by another. What would that make me? I have heard that your abilities are now remarkable, and your medical skills no less so. I simply thought—perhaps you could help treat her, adjust and restore her health. If she recovered and could have another child, she would stop fixating on such desperate ideas.”
“So you want me to play the role of a goddess of fertility…” Lang Jiuchuan’s lips curved slightly as she looked up—and then, in an instant, the smile disappeared, and her brow furrowed.
Lang Cailing’s face had changed. The position on her face governing children showed a shift.
“Wh—what is it? Is it too difficult? Then just restore her health—if she isn’t mad anymore, she probably won’t come after my little one either.” Lang Cailing, unnerved by Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze, instinctively touched her face.
But Lang Jiuchuan asked instead, “Did you bring your child when you came to your family home today? Your daughter, I mean.”
“No, I didn’t. I mentioned I was coming to visit Second Aunt, so my mother-in-law said that since I was visiting the sick, she shouldn’t have me bring the child along, for fear of ill fortune passing to her…ah, I don’t mean anything unkind toward Second Aunt—please don’t misunderstand.”
Lang Jiuchuan was already rising to her feet. “Go back at once. Something has happened to your little girl.”
Lang Cailing was startled. What did that mean?
Before she could even ask, hurried footsteps sounded outside. Lang Jiuchuan opened the study door to find a senior maidservant from Wu Shi’s household escorting Lang Cailing’s own senior maidservant toward them—the girl’s face was etched with urgency as she addressed Lang Cailing, who stood behind Lang Jiuchuan: “Young Mistress, please return to the household immediately. The Madam has taken the Little Miss to the Lu Family.”