Lang Chenghui had only seen Lang Jiuchuan once during his infancy, but bound as they were by blood, he still recognized her. Seeing her true appearance — which matched exactly the portrait hanging in the family residence — his joy was beyond all containing.

She truly existed. She had never disappeared.

The natural pull of blood and kin made it impossible for him to hold back from drawing close to Lang Jiuchuan. He talked to her at length in a steady stream of words, then led her into the Wanshi Shop and through to the back courtyard. Seeing Lang Jiuchuan fix her gaze upon the person-height divine statue in the courtyard, he said: “Great-grandfather said that this shop is yours. We do not have your great ability to resolve all troubles and dissolve all sorrows for the people of this world — but there was no need to close it either. Perhaps one day you would come back.”

“Only we waited for a long, long time without seeing you return. After discussing the matter with His Majesty the current Emperor, Great-grandfather had a jade statue of you carved and enshrined here, establishing this place as a living memorial shrine in your honor, so that it might receive some incense offerings and give the people a place for their faith.” Lang Chenghui pointed to the three-legged bronze incense burner shaped like an auspicious cloud before the divine statue, its bowl thick with the accumulation of spent incense sticks, and said with a smile: “These were all offered by the common people.”

From the young man’s steady stream of words, Lang Jiuchuan also came to understand the current state of the Lang Family.

As her maternal family, the Lang Family — even without claiming the throne and becoming the new masters of this realm — had risen at once to become a family of the highest tier, looked up to and admired by all. For no other reason than that it had produced her, a true immortal.

But Lang Great-uncle had also taken her words to heart that day and had not grown complacent. He established a family school, treated others with generosity, and kept the family’s members in check. Speaking of just her own generation — those who had entered officialdom had done so, such as the eldest brother of the senior branch who had become a civil official; those who had joined the military included the young dynamo of a twelfth brother, and so on. And now in Lang Chenghui’s generation, they had all been enlightened and educated at the family school, each distinguished in their own way.

Lang Chenghui, however, had placed his faith in the Dao, opened his awareness, and even refined his qi.

The revival of spiritual energy…

All along the way back, Lang Jiuchuan had also seen life and vitality everywhere — lush and vibrant growth, the spiritual energy genuinely richer than before. And within this courtyard in particular, the energy of the five elements of heaven and earth was especially abundant. Most likely because of the divine statue’s presence and the flourishing of incense offerings.

“Aunt, Great-grandfather misses you terribly. Would you return to the family residence for a reunion?” Lang Chenghui asked her carefully.

Lang Jiuchuan came back to herself and replied with a smile: “Knowing that they are all well is enough. I am already someone of a world beyond this one — I would rather not disturb their tranquility.”

Feng Ya glanced sideways at her. She was afraid that if she went, she would grow attached to the earthly bonds of mortal kinship and find herself unwilling to leave.

Lang Chenghui was somewhat crestfallen.

Seeing this, Lang Jiuchuan changed the subject and asked: “How did you come to enter the Dao?”

The young man flushed with a touch of bashfulness and said: “Someone should inherit your mantle, Aunt. I happen to have some modest perception, and Great-grandfather and Father and Mother were all more than happy for it. The journals and Daoist scriptures you left behind at home — I have committed them all to memory.”

“Have you grasped the Dao within them?”

“Your young nephew is slow-witted, and there is still much he does not understand.”

“Then follow alongside me for the time being — until the Taiping Daoist Temple holds its ceremonial gathering. How much you can learn will depend on your own perception.”

Lang Chenghui was taken aback, then dropped at once to his knees and bowed: “Your disciple obeys.”

Lang Jiuchuan was about to say that there was no need for such formality — she was not taking on a disciple, only transmitting the Dao. But on reflection, she let it go.

In the end, it was the Dao being transmitted either way, regardless of to whom. She certainly could not stay in this world — if she could leave behind a trace of her understanding for the Daoist tradition under Heaven, that too would be a blessing for the path of Dao. Was the inheritance of the Dao not exactly this?

Wanting something done, one simply does it.

Lang Jiuchuan settled right there in the Wanshi Shop to transmit the Dao to Lang Chenghui. She had said she would not go to disturb the Lang Family, but Lang Chenghui could not bear to think of Great-grandfather longing day and night for her, and so he quietly sent word of it.

And this, of course, was like disturbing a hornet’s nest. Lang Great-uncle came running over so hastily he lost one of his shoes along the way, grabbed hold of Lang Jiuchuan, and wept, calling her “little ancestress, how heartless you are” over and over — and trailing behind him was a great many members of the Lang Family.

What manner of family was the Lang Family? To speak in exaggerated terms — calling it the foremost family right now was something that even those who refused to accept it would only swallow in silence. What could anyone say, when the family had produced an immortal little ancestress?

The great commotion the Lang Family set off was like the sky falling — yet it was joyful and festive. Those who loved a spectacle all came crowding in to see what was happening.

And once they saw — it spread everywhere. The immortal little ancestress of the Lang Family had returned!

After the battle to slay the demon, once Lang Jiuchuan had sacrificed herself and prayed to Heaven for the spiritual rain to bring life and vitality back to all living things, she had never again appeared before anyone. Nobody knew where she had gone, nobody knew whether she was still alive — or whether she had already ascended to become a deity.

Now that she had appeared, the news spread from one to ten to a hundred — and soon everyone knew that she had returned. Familiar faces and strangers alike all wanted to come and catch a glimpse of an immortal’s bearing.

Lang Jiuchuan was overwhelmed by the headache of it all. She left only the message that she would transmit the Dao during the ceremonial gathering at the Taiping Daoist Temple, then took Lang Chenghui and fled.

Once this news spread, it caused an even greater stir. An immortal transmitting the Dao was no mere ceremonial gathering — it was worthy of being celebrated alongside the heavens themselves.

Some caught wind of a business opportunity. Even though the grand gathering at the Double Ninth Festival was still three months away, people were already rushing to the Taiping Daoist Temple to claim spots or set up shops and stalls — some even constructing inns. The surrounding estates became the subject of inquiries from all the prominent families, who used their connections to marriage alliances and relatives in hopes of securing a place to stay.

As for the Taiping Daoist Temple itself — it goes without saying. Arrangements were made immediately to reorganize the lodging quarters for Daoist practitioners and clear the mountain forests and roads near the temple, since when Lang Jiuchuan transmitted the Dao, those who came might not only be people, but also many intelligent beings of the spirit world.

Upon learning of this, Ning Zhe issued an imperial edict at once, dispatching the Ministry of Works and the Western Great Camp and other units to establish a station and maintain order and security, to prevent unrest breaking out among the vast crowds coming to make pilgrimage and attend the gathering — and thus also preparing to jointly celebrate the occasion with all the people.

It was all set off by a single word from Lang Jiuchuan. Yet no one said anything against it — especially those who had taken part in the battle to slay the demon. They knew in their hearts that such a gathering might occur only once in a lifetime. Miss it, and live with regret for the rest of your days.

Countless worshippers and cultivators, upon learning the news, set out early for the Taiping Daoist Temple for fear of not making it in time.

Seeing the great spectacle her offhand remark had stirred into being, Lang Jiuchuan could only laugh and shake her head, then said to Feng Ya: “With all this expense and trouble to the people, does this make me a calamitous enchantress who ruins nations?”

This was not what she had intended at all!

Feng Ya said coolly: “You underestimate the position you hold in the hearts of the people of this world. What is meant by being revered as a deity — this is exactly how it looks. What you should actually worry about is whether this will cause a follow-the-crowd effect, with everyone pursuing the immortal path and neglecting their livelihoods.”

“It won’t. However much the spiritual energy revives, the balance of yin and yang in heaven and earth always maintains itself — it will not tip entirely to one side. And in this world, the greater number will still be ordinary mortals who eat the five grains. Most of those who pursue the Dao cultivate the Dao of the heart.” Lang Jiuchuan shook her head with a smile. “The ruler is enlightened — he will not allow Da Qian to become that way.”

She paused, then continued: “If the day truly comes when everyone is pursuing the immortal path, it would necessarily mean this small world has already evolved. All living things change, and so does the world itself — if it changes, it means the laws of heaven and earth have already changed. All we need do is follow the current of change. So why fear the follow-the-crowd effect? Let it come as it comes. Meet all change with the one constant — all variations return to the same source.”

Feng Ya was speechless for a moment and said nothing.

Lang Chenghui, at the side, also seemed to gain some understanding from her words.