If that first glimpse of Lang Jiuchuan had left him unnerved and curious, now that A’Piao had heard Lang Jiuchuan’s purpose, his feelings were those of panic and dread — and yet, layered beneath that, a strange sense of things finally settling into place.

She had truly seen through them.

This realization made A’Piao’s expression change in an instant. Gone was the mild, agreeable demeanor of someone easy to talk to. In its place came an aura of ghostly chill, cold and utterly still, without a trace of warmth or life.

“Is the young miss here to make trouble for us?”

Lang Jiuchuan looked over at him and said, “I’m here to do business. What’s this — is this piece of information not worth a price? Is it worthless?”

A’Piao’s mouth twitched. Insulting a ghost didn’t usually go like this — what did she mean by “not worth a price” and “worthless”? Was she implying that they were beneath notice?

If information like this were released, would it not send Wu Jing into an uproar? Who, upon learning that the assistants serving them every day were actually paper figures, wouldn’t be horrified?

The other party had already laid it out plainly, and without so much as a shred of hedging — saying something like “I must have been mistaken” would only be a bad-faith denial.

A’Piao steadied himself and said, “Young miss, if you have this kind of ability, why come to our Tongtian Pavilion to toy with us petty spirits?”

“First — I genuinely came to buy information. I only happened to overhear that you also buy information, so the timing worked out. Second — this is my first visit, and the first time I’ve met any of you, so there is no question of ‘making trouble.’ ” At most, I’m just skimming a little.

Taking losses on a meal would leave her feeling choked. She had no intention of taking any losses.

A’Piao was somewhat lost for words, and asked, “Young miss, is your only purpose to inquire about the life history of the person you mentioned, and those who associated with her closely?”

“Whatever you find, simply inform me of it — I will determine what is useful.” Lang Jiuchuan said, “As for the commission fee — how much do you think my information is worth against it?”

A’Piao gave an awkward laugh or two, and said nothing for a moment.

How much was it worth — if he said too much, did he dare? If too little, it would be slapping his own face.

And besides — was this not essentially a threat?

A’Piao thought for a moment, then smiled and said, “Silver is neither here nor there — we’re not short on that sort of profit. Since the young miss has walked through our doors of Tongtian Pavilion, that is clearly destiny at work. We are glad to make a friend of the young miss. The information you seek, we will help investigate. Between friends, favors go both ways — should Tongtian Pavilion encounter difficulties in the future, we hope the young miss might lend us a hand?”

Lang Jiuchuan heard this and immediately said, “In that case, the cause of this young miss Lang’s father’s death — would you be able to look into that as well? You’re already investigating, so one more matter is hardly any trouble.”

A’Piao: “!”

The nerve, the sheer audacity — she’s scaling this entire climb at full speed, all eight limbs working at once. I’ve been a ghost a long time and never once encountered such shameless effrontery!

Watching A’Piao suppress his expression into something only slightly twisted, Lang Jiuchuan smiled and said, “No trouble troubling one person twice, as they say.”

A’Piao forced a smile. “Young miss, please don’t put me in a difficult position — being a ghost in the living world is no easy matter either.”

“Not necessarily. I’ve already seen through your kind — so what’s to stop others from doing the same? I hear the Xuan Clans have those with spiritual roots. They may not be able to ascend to the heavens or descend to the earth, but with genuine arts passed down from ancestors who were true great cultivators, surely they too could see through you? After all, they are the Xuan Clans — lofty, venerated, the envy of all under heaven.”

A’Piao snorted coldly. “Easy for the young miss to say. Those are ancestors who once cultivated to great achievement — not those alive today. Relying on the prestige of past generations rather than earnest cultivation of one’s own — no matter how enviable others find you, meet a truly formidable person and you’d only be bringing shame upon those very ancestors.”

How interesting — his tone held nothing but contempt for the conduct of the Xuan Clans.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes flickered, and she said, “It sounds as though your pavilion’s master is a truly formidable figure. Otherwise, how would Tongtian Pavilion stand so firmly in this world?”

“That goes without saying……” A’Piao’s words cut off mid-sentence. He looked at her with a wary expression, his face growing somewhat strained.

Cunning. Calculating. This was drawing out my words, and I walked right into it!

Lang Jiuchuan feigned ignorance of the fact that he’d caught on to her intent, picked up her teacup, and took a sip, saying, “I have a more important matter I’d like to inquire about. Would it be possible to meet with your pavilion’s master?”

A’Piao’s expression remained neutral as he said, “My master has been in seclusion and cultivation for a long period of time.”

“Oh — what terrible timing.” Lang Jiuchuan rose to her feet, saying, “Then I’ll leave the information I need to purchase in your capable hands. I’ll return in a few days.”

A’Piao hastily said, “As for those of us who work here……”

“Rest easy — I’m not one for loose lips. Being a ghost is hard — I understand.” Lang Jiuchuan gave him a look of worldly understanding and patted him on the shoulder.

A’Piao felt vaguely unsettled.

Seeing Lang Jiuchuan out of Tongtian Pavilion, he still hadn’t quite gathered himself. He couldn’t quite put into words how he felt — stifled, and yet with the sensation of having just seen off a plague.

And yet he didn’t dare act against Lang Jiuchuan in any way — because she was the first person ever to see through their true nature. They had received clients from the Xuan Clans before, and not one of those had noticed. Yet Lang Jiuchuan had.

And he, in turn, could not see through her at all. Only the master would likely be able to.

A’Piao called for the little ghost to take over watching the entrance, then turned and headed into the rear courtyard. Red Niangniang stood guard outside a cinnabar-red door.

To outsiders, it looked like an ordinary door — but only those among them knew that behind it lay its own contained world, opening onto another realm entirely.

A’Piao hadn’t even had the chance to say a word to Red Niangniang before a voice from within the door reached them first — cold as frost and ice.

“No need for concern. The information she wants — investigate it and give it to her.”

A’Piao and Red Niangniang exchanged a glance, and both bowed respectfully toward the door. “Yes, Master.”

Lang Jiuchuan, who had only just walked a short distance from Tongtian Pavilion, seemed to sense something. She turned to look back. From the three-story building, a frigid and piercing presence had materialized from somewhere on the upper floors.

She stood alone on the long street, facing that presence from afar in a silent standoff.

Jiangche stirred restlessly within her spiritual platform.

In only a moment, that presence disappeared.

“What was that?” Jiangche couldn’t help but leap out, gazing toward Tongtian Pavilion, saying, “That presence was far from ordinary.”

“I want to know the same.” Lang Jiuchuan narrowed her eyes. “That is a power comparable to the rank of ghost officials in the underworld.”

Tongtian Pavilion, and its master alike, were anything but ordinary.

Jiangche mulled it over for a while, then said, “Could it be your mortal enemy?”

“If it were, would the two of us be standing here unharmed? Let’s go — you brainless fool of a cat!” Lang Jiuchuan shot him an exasperated look.

Jiangche: “!”

This wretched woman is absolutely asking to be smacked.

Lang Jiuchuan disappeared into the long street.

In the rear courtyard of Tongtian Pavilion, behind that cinnabar door, in the other realm beyond — an ancient tomb, occupying a space between the three worlds where neither Heaven, Earth, nor the living held jurisdiction — a nine-foot figure robed entirely in black stood before a seven-colored golden lotus soul-nurturing lamp. He gazed at the fragment of a withered soul curled within the lamp’s flame, and let out a cold snort.

No matter how great your abilities once were — in the end, you were reduced to this: your soul shattered and your spirit scattered, on the verge of vanishing entirely from this world.

He had said long ago that human nature was far more terrifying than the human heart.

“Master — the truth is, it’s been long enough. If you continue feeding your own soul-force to sustain the lamp at this rate, I fear that you……” A ghost general with a longsword at his hip could not help but speak.

The Tongtian Pavilion Master turned his head slightly, fixing him with a cold look. “Enough.”

The ghost general lowered his head and took a step back, watching as soul-force flowed unceasingly from him to fuel the soul-nurturing lamp, and could not suppress a quiet sigh.

Sustaining a soul with one’s own soul-force — the cost was borne entirely by the one doing the sustaining. Before that withered soul had been nursed back to wholeness, he himself would be the one on the brink of dissipation.