Escorting the loyal souls onward to the afterlife — this was the first commission Lang Jiuchuan had taken on.

Yet Gong Qi’s mind had gone to many places. From the very beginning, Lang Jiuchuan had not spoken plainly of the existence of the Fu Family soldiers. Even after Fuqi appeared, she had said nothing about the fact that those three thousand loyal souls were caught in an endless cycle, reliving that day over and over like a burning inferno. She had never explained why they could not pass on. Why hadn’t she said anything?

Because something was not right. Were they unable to pass on because of an obsession, or because of deliberate interference by someone?

If it was deliberate, then who had done it, and what was so despicable about their motive, and what were they hoping to gain?

And then he recalled the question she had asked earlier — whose hand had rebuilt Eight Trigrams City after the original was destroyed and the land was reclaimed. What was there about that that couldn’t simply be said openly?

Two hundred years ago, the Xuan Clan had been rich with talent. Among the Tantai family, the most brilliant warrior was called Tantai Xiao, said to be the reincarnation of the White Tiger Star. And the most masterful in Xuan arts was the patriarch, Elder Tantai Jing, who had led the effort to rebuild the new city.

But Lang Jiuchuan had learned from him who had built it, and yet had not told him plainly about the suffering of the Fu Family soldiers. Was she guarding herself against him? No — against the Xuan Clan.

Gong Qi pieced it together. Since the Xuan Clan’s patriarch was the one who rebuilt the city, could this have been the work of him and those old forebears? In other words, could this have been the doing of the Xuan Clan?

That was why she wouldn’t say. Because she didn’t trust him — no, she didn’t trust the Xuan Clan. Just as with the corpse fiend before, when she had been so visibly hesitant before handing over the map she had deduced from her investigations.

Gong Qi felt a little wronged. They had all but been through life and death together — and still she couldn’t trust him?

But then he thought of what the Xuan Clan had done, and he couldn’t help feeling a few pangs of guilt himself. If it truly turned out that the major Xuan clans had suppressed those soldiers — and they had done so for some purpose — whose side would he stand on?

Gong Qi dropped half a step behind Lang Jiuchuan and said flatly: “There might be other reasons behind all this. It’s not necessarily the Xuan Clan’s doing. Something like this would be a serious transgression against karmic virtue.”

The patriarchs of two hundred years ago were not as obsessed with power and influence as the clan members of today. They surely wouldn’t have done something this sinister.

Lang Jiuchuan looked over at him. “I never said it was your people’s doing. We came to see the site for ourselves, didn’t we?”

“But in your heart, that’s what you were thinking. You don’t trust me.”

Lang Jiuchuan smiled. “To be precise — I don’t trust how the Xuan Clan conducts itself. But you and the young master, I can trust. Look — didn’t I let you see the truth with your own eyes? Even before I’d confirmed whether or not it was the Xuan Clan’s doing.”

Gong Qi responded with cold derision. He wanted to say something cutting in return, but suddenly found it wasn’t really worth the effort.

Fair enough. He ultimately had the Xuan Clan behind him. If she truly harbored a grievance against the Xuan Clan, why would she simply bare her heart to him? Even with him and the ninth uncle, she had her reservations.

“Now that you’ve seen what the General and those three thousand Fu Family soldiers have endured, what do you think? Are you willing to help escort them onward?” Lang Jiuchuan asked, glancing at him sideways.

Gong Qi looked a little sulky. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

Lang Jiuchuan went quiet.

Gong Qi watched her walk straight ahead without another word, and his heart suddenly lurched with unease. He caught up and said: “It is the constant tenet of those who walk the path of cultivation to simply do what is good and right. Your question just now was unnecessary.”

Lang Jiuchuan let out a brief sound of acknowledgment. Her expression gave nothing away — whether she was pleased or still quietly annoyed.

Gong Qi felt an even greater contempt for himself. Was this still the Gong Family’s little tyrant? Constantly second-guessing himself, not the least bit like himself. This wretched girl truly knew how to put a person through their paces.

Lang Jiuchuan reached the pillar monument and examined its base. Several bundles of spent incense sticks were planted there, along with remnants of rice offerings and burnt paper. It was clear that the place had never gone without offerings.

“Monument to the Heroic Martyrs.” Gong Qi read the characters carved into the pillar and said: “This is an anonymous monument. Who erected it?”

“Take a closer look at the Daoist engravings on the pillar.” Although wind, sand, and frost had worn at the surface, Lang Jiuchuan could already make out certain markings on the pillar — they appeared to be talisman engravings.

Gong Qi was taken aback. Some of the markings had been obscured by adhered sand and dust and were hard to see clearly. He thought for a moment, then simply cast a Dust-Cleansing Incantation and pressed it onto the surface.

His technique was excellent. The effect left the pillar looking as though it had been washed clean — perfectly clear, with no further obscuring layers of grit.

Lang Jiuchuan sent him an approving glance. Gong Qi’s pride swelled like a peacock in full display, his chin lifting high, utterly pleased with himself.

Clang clang clang — the wind bell struck in an unusually rapid rhythm.

“Ah.”

Fuqi let out a cry of pain.

Both of them looked over at once. Fuqi had his hands clutched to his head, his features contorted — yet his ghost energy was not growing deeper, but rather fading and becoming diffuse, flickering in and out of solidity.

This was bad. His soul was on the verge of scattering.

Lang Jiuchuan swiftly recalled him and tucked him into the Small Nine Pagoda. “Please don’t come out, General. Just rest inside the pagoda.”

Fuqi no longer had the spirit even to respond. Approaching this pillar monument, he had felt intensely uncomfortable — as though something was dealing him blow after crushing blow, like a force of a thousand jun bearing down on him, even though he was nothing but a soul.

Gong Qi stared fixedly at the small pagoda in her hand and said flatly: “That pagoda of yours can also shelter souls? The Feng Family’s Seven-Star Diamond Pagoda can do the same.”

Lang Jiuchuan withdrew the pagoda back into her spiritual consciousness right in front of him. “What Diamond Pagoda? Is theirs as powerful as mine? Can theirs also form a bond of recognition with its owner?”

Well… that, it apparently couldn’t do. But it could have a soul-mark imprinted into it.

Lang Jiuchuan redirected the subject. “Never mind what pagodas do or don’t do. Quickly, look at the engravings on the pillar. When General Fuqi came near this place, his soul came under attack. This pillar — I suspect it is no ordinary thing.”

Gong Qi’s expression snapped to attention, and he immediately turned to examine the markings.

Lang Jiuchuan was even more direct. She took out a piece of yellow paper and a sharpened charcoal pencil, and began tracing the markings.

The pillar stood a full two zhang tall and had aged considerably. The markings in the higher sections she couldn’t see clearly, so she dispatched Jiangche, who climbed up the column and entered the small pagoda at the top.

Through Jiangche’s perspective, she saw the Daoist engravings on the upper part of the shaft — and quickly transferred them to her paper. Then she saw the four corners of the pagoda at the top, each carved with an exquisite white tiger. But on each white tiger’s body, a stone-dare tablet had been pressed down over it.

Lang Jiuchuan’s expression turned deeply troubled.

Seeing these white tiger carvings told her that this so-called Monument to the Heroic Martyrs was not purely a memorial stone erected to honor fallen souls.

The white tiger was a fierce and warlike creature, known as a General Star — carving white tigers could represent the presence of a General Star. But each white tiger had a stone-dare tablet pressed down upon its body. Speaking from a geomantic perspective, when the inauspicious energy of the white tiger manifests, a stone-dare tablet can be used to suppress and neutralize that energy.

Now these stone-dare tablets were pressing down directly on the tigers’ bodies — the meaning was one of suppression and subjugation.

Jiangche, hearing Lang Jiuchuan’s explanation within his mind, was so outraged it wanted to leap up and smash those stone-dare tablets to bits on the spot. But constrained by the unclear situation, it dared not act rashly, for fear of ruining everything.

It entered that small pagoda — and the hairs on its body stood straight up.

The interior of the pagoda was covered in countless talisman engravings. An invisible restraining force bound its entire spiritual consciousness in place, and it cried out in fright: “Lang Jiu, help me, hurry!”

“Wait a moment. Don’t panic. Let me look carefully.” Lang Jiuchuan’s expression was grave.

She committed every one of those talisman engravings to memory. What was this — she had seen these markings somewhere before. They were the Nine Heavens Soul-Subduing Spiritual Talismans, used to lock and bind the soul.

She had seen them. But where?

Lang Jiuchuan gently closed her eyes. Fragmented images flashed through her mind like streaks of light — a vast cavern, countless cinnabar talisman markings, chains…

Bang.

Her soul shuddered violently, as though struck by heavenly lightning, leaving a ringing blankness. She fell backward stiff as a board, blood flowing from all seven orifices.

The sudden catastrophe unfolded right before Gong Qi’s eyes. His face drained of all color, and he rushed forward.