Seeing Lang Jiuchuan shielding and protecting Shen Qinghe so openly, Gong Qi felt, for some inexplicable reason, a tangle of complex emotions deep within him — part envy, part jealousy.

It was difficult to put into words. Lang Jiuchuan appeared delicate and easily underestimated — and it was precisely that appearance that made people let down their guard and fail to take her seriously, which was how they ended up suffering for it greatly. A rabbit will still bite when cornered, and she was no rabbit. She was a hawk. A concrete reference, for those who needed one: the unfortunate disciples of the Rong family could speak to that.

She possessed real ability, and she had that appearance on top of it — a classic case of the unassuming wolf in sheep’s clothing, the ruthless predator hiding in plain sight. To have someone like that protecting you — how fortunate would that person have to be? Even the members of the Lang Family did not enjoy the kind of fortune that Shen Qinghe had.

Because even if Lang Jiuchuan maintained a perfectly agreeable face with the Lang Family, in truth she kept them at arm’s length. She appeared composed on the surface, yet held everyone at a distance of a thousand li. And yet, this person who kept everyone at such a distance was openly declaring her intention to protect a government official.

On what basis — instinct?

Had Jiang Che been able to read Gong Qi’s thoughts, it would naturally have answered for him: why, on the basis of Shen Qinghe’s unyielding backbone, of course. True, that backbone was now gone, and the cause-and-effect between the two could be said to have been resolved — but a connection formed like that, could it simply be severed by declaring it severed?

Considering that backbone, Lang Jiuchuan would certainly protect him. This unpredictable person was fiercely loyal to those she claimed as her own.

And beyond that, what Shen Qinghe was doing was righteous — and it worked in her favor too.

That was right. Anything that could check and constrain the Xuan Sect was to her advantage. Whoever proposed such a measure was on her side, and as such, had to be protected.

Gong Qi saw that Lang Jiuchuan’s killing intent had not yet dissipated, and quickly said: “Rest assured — even if someone truly has a death wish, they would not go so far as to make a dramatic move against him. Besides, this Oversight Bureau will in all likelihood be established. Once it is, the matter will be settled. No matter how much resentment some may feel, they will not dare to do anything to him after that.”

Lang Jiuchuan was somewhat surprised to hear this. “The Xuan Sect would actually be willing to put on that kind of restraint?”

Establishing such an Oversight Bureau was the equivalent of placing a pair of eyes over one’s shoulder at all times, ever ready to catch any misstep. Why would they agree to it?

Gong Qi was silent for a moment before speaking: “The establishment of this bureau is most likely something the imperial household is also happy to see come about.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes flickered. She leaned forward slightly, tilted her head to one side, and put on the expression of someone who had just caught wind of a good piece of gossip and fully intended to hear every last detail.

Gong Qi looked at her like that and felt a twitch at the corner of his mouth, opening it helplessly: “The Xuan Sect has a tradition of intermarriage within the community — especially those who possess the root of the Dao are very rarely permitted to marry outsiders, for fear of diluting the bloodline…”

Lang Jiuchuan smiled. “Actually, I have always been curious — you always speak of the root of the Dao, but how exactly does one determine whether a person has it or not? In my understanding, what is called the root of the Dao is essentially what one might call receptiveness to enlightenment — what some call the root of wisdom. Those with an affinity for the Dao simply grasp and understand things more readily than ordinary people. But the root of the Dao itself — what does it actually look like? Does it have a color?”

Gong Qi was, for once in his life, stumped. A peculiar expression crossed his face before he said: “The Xuan Sect possesses a sacred instrument specifically designed to test the root of the Dao — along with a medicinal pill used in the process. After taking the pill, one enters the sacred instrument for testing. Anyone who possesses the root of the Dao must, within one hour inside the instrument, successfully draw a Five Thunder Talisman and comprehend the Daoist techniques contained within it.”

Lang Jiuchuan interrupted again: “Isn’t that just a test of aptitude? Are Five Thunder Talismans really that difficult to draw? I’ve seen you carry quite a stock of them.”

“Who draws them as effortlessly as you do, flashing with spiritual light the moment the brush lifts? Ours are accumulated one by one, painstakingly over time. For an ordinary Daoist practitioner, having even one talisman is a prized possession for self-protection.” Gong Qi shot her an irritated look and continued: “And it is not merely that degree of aptitude. It is also about the blood.”

Could she not let him finish a sentence before cutting in.

“Blood?”

“Those who carry the root of the Dao have a faint trace of gold in their blood. The more concentrated it is, the purer the root of the Dao.” Gong Qi saw her open her mouth again and immediately said: “Do not ask me why — ask and the answer is only that it has always been this way for as far back as records go, passed down through generations. If you insist on pushing further than that, you are simply being unreasonably argumentative.”

Lang Jiuchuan: “…”

Jiang Che tittered with laughter: “Look at what you’ve driven the man to.”

He was so worked up he was practically fuming.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at Gong Qi, who was flushed with exasperation, and said somewhat contritely: “Could it be that the sacred instrument is a formation?”

“How did you know?” Gong Qi was genuinely surprised. “Have you been tested in one?”

Lang Jiuchuan was caught off guard herself. “How did I know?”

She was briefly bewildered, her brow pulling tight. She truly did not know how she knew — yet the moment Gong Qi had described it, she had felt with certainty that the sacred instrument must be a formation: something like her own Little Nine Pagoda, in which one could enter and comprehend Daoist techniques, and cultivate within.

“I didn’t actually know. But you said one must draw talismans inside it — what else but a formation could provide the space to do so within? Only a Daoist formation could allow someone to draw talismans and seek enlightenment inside it.”

Gong Qi said: “You’re not wrong about that. It is one of the Xuan Sect’s supreme sacred instruments, called the Celestial Treasure Mirror. When one drops a drop of heart’s blood into it, it tests the bloodline. Those who carry the root of the Dao will have blood that appears a pale gold, and their soul can enter the mirror to seek enlightenment.”

“Who keeps custody of this thing?”

“Naturally, the Hall of Enforcement. Testing the root of the Dao is also done through the Hall of Enforcement.” Gong Qi paused, frowning: “Wait — why did I just tell you all the secrets of the Xuan Sect?”

“It is not as though any of it is something that needs to be kept hidden. What is there that cannot be said? Now, go back to what you were saying — how is it that the Xuan Sect ended up agreeing to the establishment of the Oversight Bureau?” Lang Jiuchuan affected a tone of nonchalance, while in her mind she was already picturing what sort of sacred instrument this Celestial Treasure Mirror might be.

“If you hadn’t kept interrupting me, I would have finished long ago.” Gong Qi said, visibly annoyed.

“You are right, you are right — that was entirely my fault. Please continue. I will not interrupt again.” Lang Jiuchuan immediately owned her error, and as a gesture of goodwill, even poured him a cup of tea to wet his throat.

Gong Qi looked at the gesture and felt even more stifled — he took a gulp of the tea and promptly choked on it.

This tea truly was poisoned.

After he finished coughing until his face was red and his neck was thick, he slowly continued: “The Tantai family has, for three generations, struggled to produce anyone with the root of the Dao. In fact, it has now been fourteen years since a single new root of the Dao has appeared among them.”

Lang Jiuchuan, as sharp-witted as she was, grasped it at once. “Of course — the elder brother who has always held the dominant position finds, as his younger brothers grow strong and capable, that he suddenly feels his seat is no longer secure.”

The Tantai clan was the imperial family, and they had steadily maintained their grip on the throne — which required real power to sustain. Without it, someone could simply topple the dragon throne and the seat would go to another.

Several generations struggling to produce those with the root of the Dao, or only producing a handful — that was proof that the bloodline had been diluted. Yet the other clans were not in the same situation. Would the Tantai family not be afraid?

Afraid — which was precisely why they sought to suppress the others.

The imperial family produced no Daoist practitioners, but they held imperial authority — and that authority meant men, and strong armies, which were sufficient to keep the other Xuan Sect clans in check. And now that someone had proposed establishing an Oversight Bureau, it was like a pillow delivered to someone already drowsy with sleep. They were more than delighted to accept.

Consider it: such an oversight institution could rein in the other Xuan Sect clans, serving as a constant watchful eye to monitor whether they harbored any thoughts of rebellion. Why refuse that?

And in any case, to the imperial family, such an Oversight Bureau offered nothing but benefit and no drawback.

As for the protectors and disciples they had recruited and brought into their own service — they too would fall under the scope of the oversight, which was also perfectly fine. It was equally useful for checking whether those people might have been bought over by rival parties.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes gleamed with a bright spark. What a fine development — without her having to lift a finger, the Xuan Sect had begun to fracture on its own. Once that happened, there would be no more solidarity among them.