A commanding shout rang out from the entrance of the alley.

Everyone turned to look. Someone came charging forward — clad in a violet Daoist robe, his features lean and sharp, his gaze blazing like a torch. In the blink of an eye, he was already standing before them.

The Daoist Bafang used his yin-sight to make out the newcomer and furrowed his brow. Today’s plan to take the Lang Family members away per the National Preceptor’s orders was going to be difficult. The Gong Family Head — this man put on a solemn face on the surface, but in truth he was slipperier than a fox and far more troublesome to deal with.

He had long since withdrawn from worldly affairs, and Bafang could not fathom why the man had chosen to appear now.

The Daoist Bafang recalled the National Preceptor and various rumors circulating about him, and his grey-white eyes betrayed no readable expression.

The Gong Family Head arrived at the front of the Lang Family’s gates. Ignoring the Daoist disciples who were attempting to form a formation, he looked only toward Fuwu and Jiangche, raised his hand slightly, and sent a transmission of sound into their ears, signaling them to hold steady. Then he turned around to face the Daoist Bafang: “Fellow Daoist Bafang, what exactly are you doing here — using a Daoist formation to harm ordinary mortals?”

“I don’t know what wind has blown the Gong Family Head our way, but the ‘ordinary people’ you speak of do not include that tiger and that skulking ghost.” Bafang pointed at Fuwu and Jiangche, then gestured toward the civilians who had been injured and were crying out in agony after the startled horses had run amok. “These are the ordinary people — injured because of those creatures. Their crime is unforgivable!”

The Gong Family Head swept a glance across the scene and countered: “Was it not precisely because you forced the situation with such aggression that they fought back to protect their master, leading to this outcome? The Lang Family has always kept to themselves and lived peaceably — why would they go about harming people unprovoked? It’s not as though they’ve lost their minds!”

The Daoist Bafang darkened: “Gong Family Head, do not quibble. This poor Daoist is acting on His Majesty’s imperial edict to apprehend the associates of a demonic Daoist. Are you telling me you are also in league with this demonic Daoist?”

Smack!

A folding fan appeared in the Gong Family Head’s hand. He snapped it open with a sharp crack, and the gale it unleashed struck the Daoist Bafang across the face hard enough to send it sideways. He straightened his expression and said: “I advise you, Fellow Daoist, not to stand there with your eyes open and spout falsehoods. I am getting on in years and my temper is not what it used to be, which is precisely why I have spent these past years cultivating the Way of the Serene Heart — fearing that I might inadvertently cause harm. You claim I am colluding with a demonic Daoist — that is an insult to the Gong Family, an insult to our ancestors. Furthermore, you may have been blind from the start, but that still does not give you the right to open your mouth and speak nonsense.”

“You—!” The Daoist Bafang had taken a full blow from that gale. His face had swollen and a wide streak of blood had risen across it. His grey-white eyes seemed to have darkened, as though stained with resentment.

“The accusation of ‘demonic Daoist’ is utterly preposterous. Without any evidence whatsoever, to arbitrarily brand a person of great merit as a demonic Daoist is outrageous enough — but to then drag in their family members? Those who stood up for a person of virtue and spoke words of simple justice — Shen Qinghe of the Inspectorate, a man of unbending integrity; Xue Shi, who teaches and cultivates talent and serves as a model for scholars across the realm; Master Ou; and General Ning, who has stabilized the nation and secured its borders — all of them were thrown into the imperial dungeons simply for saying a few fair words on behalf of someone righteous. How can anyone accept this?”

The Gong Family Head’s voice carried authority, ringing clear and resonant, carrying in all four directions: “Fellow Daoist, do not invoke His Majesty’s imperial edict. His Majesty is young, and his temperament is difficult to read. Rather than offering counsel and guidance, you are pouring oil on the fire. Do you intend to let His Majesty earn the infamous name of a tyrant, to be passed down through the ages?”

He gazed coldly at the Daoist Bafang and the others: “Or perhaps His Majesty has been ensnared and corrupted by some demonic entity or malevolent spirit, which is why he has suddenly become so muddled and reckless — fabricating charges to eliminate those who oppose him, apparently uncaring about chilling the hearts of every loyal and righteous person in the realm. With his behavior as though a ghost had taken possession of him, does he intend to make enemies of all people under heaven?”

Every word landed like a stone striking iron — cloaked in irony and veiled mockery, yet spoken with unmistakable weight. The scene went utterly silent; one could have heard a pin drop.

News of the upheaval at court had been relayed to the Gong Family’s side before the officials had even passed through the palace gates. Gong Tinglan was currently at a critical juncture of his seclusion and could not be disturbed, so the Gong Family Head had come himself.

As for the matter at the imperial mausoleum, Lang Jiuchuan had not had time to send word to the Gong Family explaining the full sequence of events, but the Gong Family Head had once been involved in piecing together the threads of this affair, and he quickly grasped the crux of the matter.

Combining that with the message from within the palace — that both the National Preceptor and the Holy Maiden were confirmed dead, and that the current ruler had suddenly undergone a drastic change in temperament — he suspected that the entity had taken up residence in yet another body of a person of great cultivation. Otherwise, why would the behavior be so abnormal?

It was most likely that Lang Jiuchuan had stirred up a hornet’s nest and provoked the ancient monster into a frenzy, bringing about this counter-strike. But this retaliation was not directed at any one individual — it was setting fires everywhere, inciting public outrage, and making enemies of all people under heaven. This extreme and blatant behavior — clearly inviting a counter-strike from Lang Jiuchuan in return — what was the creature actually trying to accomplish?

Now that the masks were off and both sides had come to open confrontation, wasn’t the creature afraid that Lang Jiuchuan would resolve to destroy it, throwing caution to the wind entirely?

This did not match the creature’s characteristic caution and deeply laid scheming. It was far too aberrant.

The Daoist Bafang’s expression was thoroughly unpleasant: “Gong Family Head, this is His Majesty’s sacred will. Are you questioning His Majesty?”

The Gong Family Head’s gaze was like lightning: “The Gong Family follows the teachings of our ancestors — it has always been our duty to uphold righteousness and eradicate evil in defense of the Way. And as subjects, it is our fundamental responsibility to correct and remonstrate. His Majesty has branded the young Daoist Lang a demonic practitioner without a shred of evidence — such an action cannot but invite questioning. Given all the suspicious circumstances today, this poor Daoist cannot sit by and watch as the loyal and righteous are wrongly condemned, throwing the realm into turmoil and leaving the people with no peace. If you insist on taking people today, on making enemies of all people under heaven, then you are making an enemy of the Gong Family.”

The moment his words fell, a group of people stepped forward — all disciples of the Gong Family, each one carrying a spiritual instrument and talisman seals, their expressions grave and solemn.

The Daoist Bafang’s heart lurched inwardly. They had gone this far — what was it about Lang Jiuchuan, that she could command the Gong Family’s protection like this, even extending that shelter to her family members?

He did not understand — to touch Lang Jiuchuan’s family was to touch Lang Jiuchuan herself, to slap her across the face. If her family were truly taken away, it would be no different than rewarding a general who had fought and defended the nation at the front lines by turning around and discarding him once his usefulness was spent.

So whether it was Xue Shi or the Gong Family Head, all of them were arguing that His Majesty’s action was unjust — that it was chilling the hearts of people across the realm, especially those generals guarding the borders. Who among them could be certain they would not be next?

“Not only do I question it — I intend to enter the palace and investigate exactly what kind of malevolent creature has bewitched His Majesty and is leading the realm to ruin, making itself the enemy of all under heaven. Fellow Daoist Liuxiu, are you willing to accompany me, to eradicate evil and defend the Way?” The Gong Family Head looked in another direction.

The Daoist Bafang followed his gaze. Among the Gong Family disciples, there stood a Daoist wearing a grey robe with visible patches, a gourd hanging at his waist, his appearance so nondescript as to be immediately forgettable.

Liuxiu turned around with an unhurried air, his eyes drowsy and languid, his expression radiating impatience. He found worldly affairs tiresome — and this Bafang character was even more tiresome.

He had only been talked down the mountain by the Gong Family Head out of interest in the Lang Jiuchuan that the elder Gong couldn’t stop singing the praises of. And the moment he arrived, he was confronted with this sort of foul, petty business. So aggravating — he wanted to go back up the mountain.

Liuxiu casually flicked the gourd at his waist. The gourd flashed with golden light, and a surge of righteous energy shot toward one of the Daoists at Bafang’s flank: “Learning all this disorganized rubbish — you’ve offended my eyes.”

That Daoist let out a scream. His expression twisted into something grotesque — and then, before the eyes of all present, a black miasma reeking of blood erupted from his body and nearly solidified into a physical mass. The Daoist crumpled to his knees clutching his lower abdomen, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

He had been struck by a backlash.