“Old Xue!”

Zhao Kun saw that Xue Shiyong had been so furious he coughed up a mouthful of blood, and he was startled. He immediately steadied him, not the least bit concerned about the blood now staining his own clothes.

Xue Shiyong waved a hand, wiped the corner of his mouth, and spoke in a hoarse, deep voice. “I’m fine.”

It was purely from rage.

Lang Jiuchuan glanced at him and said, “Coughing up blood is also a good thing. Holding it in would only cause it to fester into a deep, stagnant affliction — most detrimental to your health.”

Xue Shiyong was already past caring whether her words were unpleasant to hear. He only stared at the talisman paper bound with red thread and that eyeball, and asked, “Is this what you meant when you spoke of evil sorcery?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. She pulled apart the red thread and began unfolding the talisman paper, explaining as she did so where the tian huang stone had been nurtured and what ill effects it would produce if one kept it close and handled it regularly.

“In truth, this Wenchang Pagoda seal carries a very fine meaning. Had it not been tainted and drawn in malevolent energy, its genuine Wenchang essence would naturally have sheltered and blessed you. What a pity it was nurtured into a cursed object. Not only has it lost its efficacy, it will now produce a backlash — and it was even soaked in the filthiest of cesspits.” Lang Jiuchuan brushed away the seal’s corrupted miasma with distaste.

“Keeping such a cursed object nearby is the same as inviting evil and cultivating malevolence upon yourself. And not only have you been handling it, but inside are curse talismans that exchange your fate and luck with another’s. With this on you, who else would suffer misfortune if not you?” Lang Jiuchuan opened one of the blackened talisman papers. Wrapped inside was a lock of hair — fine and slender, not at all like Xue Shiyong’s hair. It looked more like an infant’s birth hair. She was somewhat surprised.

Yet the birth date and hour written on the talisman paper was unmistakably Xue Shiyong’s.

As if perceiving the doubt on Lang Jiuchuan’s face, Xue Shiyong fixed his gaze on that lock of birth hair and said in a low voice, “If I am not mistaken, this should be my birth hair from when I was an infant.”

“Birth hair?” Zhao Kun was startled. “Then who sent this Wenchang Pagoda seal—”

Birth hair was the sort of thing kept carefully hidden. An ordinary person could not obtain it. Only someone close kin could, and with the addition of the birth date and hour, the knowledge required was even more restricted. Yet here they both were, together — so who was the one who sent this gift?

Zhao Kun had a troubling suspicion.

“Xue Shiheng.”

Zhao Kun was struck dumb.

Xue Shiheng — that was Master Xue’s own brother, born of his father’s second wife. Though from a concubine mother, he was still a legitimate son. Yet between the two brothers, one was a naturally gifted prodigy with a perfect memory, spoken of as a divine literary star descended to earth, while the other spent all his effort straining to keep up but never quite managed. In the imperial examinations alone, he had failed no fewer than six times, foiled each time by one calamity or another that prevented him from completing the exam.

Even setting that aside, when Xue Shiheng finally managed to pass and become a provincial degree holder, the Xue family pressed Xue Shiyong to use his connections to help him secure a post. But who was Xue Shiyong? A mountain master famed for his lofty principles and proud character, who was well aware of Xue Shiheng’s abilities — he would not waste his own resources. Yet their father, pained by his favored wife’s weeping and wailing, had come to him in person swallowing his pride to beg. Xue Shiyong had no choice but to pull strings and arrange for Xue Shiheng a post as a county magistrate in Baiyue.

Baiyue was remote and uncivilized, but if one achieved results there, advancement was not difficult.

Surely it could not be that out of resentment over this, he had done something so vicious?

And he had already been county magistrate for three years.

Lang Jiuchuan quickly unfolded the second talisman paper — this one reddish, and wrapped around a jade pendant. She read aloud the birth date and hour written upon it.

Xue Shiyong paused, visibly surprised.

“Are you certain this is the correct birth date and hour?”

Lang Jiuchuan handed the talisman paper to him.

Xue Shiyong looked at it, his brow creasing. Noticing Zhao Kun craning his neck to peer at it, he said, “It is not him.”

“What?” Zhao Kun was equally taken aback. “But this Wenchang Pagoda — was it not he who gave it to you?”

Xue Shiyong looked at the seal in Lang Jiuchuan’s hand and said, “He sent it, yes. But the birth date and hour inside is not his. Either he was deceived and someone switched out the birth date, or someone used him as an unwitting instrument to lay a false trail. Either way, he was being manipulated.”

If Xue Shiheng had been the one trying to exchange fates and steal fortune, then he himself had been deceived and someone had switched out the birth date. If he had known the birth date inside was not his and had still delivered the seal, then he must have received some benefit in return. Either way, he was not innocent — he had been manipulated by others.

After all, his birth hair and birth date were not things easily obtained. His birth hair was even stored in the Xue family ancestral shrine — a sacred and restricted place. Who could casually walk in?

Zhao Kun thought of this as well, and so offered no defense of Xue Shiheng, only casting his old friend a look of sympathy.

“Is there no way to determine whose birth date and hour this is?” Xue Shiyong asked Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan shook her head. “I do not judge cases — I only break spells. Master Xue, you are the head of an entire academy. If you wish to uncover the truth of this matter, I believe you have the ability.”

Xue Shiyong fell silent.

Zhao Kun said, “Now that the spell is broken, will the ill fortune leave him? And what happens to the one who cast it?”

“I said before — any spell, once broken, will rebound upon its caster. That is cause and effect.” Lang Jiuchuan said. “Once the spell is broken, the fate of each person naturally returns to its proper course. As for those whose hearts are corrupted by wicked intent — cause and effect will find them in due time.”

Both men felt a weight lift from their hearts.

“Then you can break the spell right now?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. With the Panguan brush in hand, it was a matter of drawing two strokes — to return the two entangled birth dates and hours to the trajectories they each properly belonged to.

Xue Shiyong pulled his robe into proper order and bowed deeply to Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan stood without stepping aside, and accepted the bow with composure.

She called forth the Panguan brush once more and wrote the two birth dates and hours in the empty air. She could see the two destiny ledgers — a thread of cause and effect linking them, each stealing from the other’s entries.

One stroke fell — righting what had been reversed, restoring fairness.

Xue Shiyong’s life’s course, which had been shifting and darkening, returned to its proper track. On the other side, the red aura retreated, and dark, murky blackness closed back over that destiny ledger once more.

The order of heaven and earth was restored.

Lang Jiuchuan then gathered both talisman papers, together with everything wrapped within them, and the Wenchang Pagoda seal, and tossed them all into a large round brush-washing basin. She drew a thunder-fire talisman on yellow paper, threw it in, and sent a ritual technique after it.

Boom.

Righteous thunder rang out. Talisman fire leapt up. Evil and malevolence were destroyed.

Zhao Kun watched in awe. Coming here today had truly broadened his understanding of the world.

Xue Shiyong felt a lightness come over him, as if the heavy fatigue that had pressed on him for days had all dissolved. His state of mind opened and cleared once more. Even the objects his eyes fell upon seemed more pleasing to look at than before.

At that same moment, in a certain tavern in Wu Jing, someone was laughing and chatting with friends at the head of a staircase on the second floor, making plans to meet again another day.

Suddenly, the middle-aged man standing closest to the staircase — his face full of smiles — felt a sharp pain shoot through his legs. He lost his footing and tumbled headlong down the stairs.

The crowd cried out in alarm.

And in a certain lavish residence, a man in a purple daoist robe let out a miserable cry and collapsed to the ground, senseless.

Lang Jiuchuan watched the talisman fire die out and the Wenchang Pagoda seal turn dim and ashen, losing all its former luster. She could not help feeling a twinge of regret.

She had rather liked this Wenchang Pagoda. Properly cultivated, its genuine Wenchang essence could have sheltered and blessed her.

What a pity it was ruined.

“The spell is broken. For the next three days, Master Xue should seek out some pomelo leaves and also collect ash from incense burned before the Buddha, then boil both into water and bathe in it, to wash away the lingering ill fortune.” Lang Jiuchuan said. “Oh, and when collecting the incense ash from the Buddha — remember to donate some lamp oil as an offering.”

She explained what the incense ash before the Buddha was and what it represented, then paused and added, “Now that the spell is broken, it means the life’s course has been set aright. If you wish to investigate who was exchanging fates with you, you need only look into whether anyone in Wu Jing has recently suffered a sudden catastrophic misfortune — one that will very quickly prove fatal.”

The person had already been burdened with ill fortune to begin with. Having employed wicked sorcery to steal another’s fate and luck, they would face a complete backlash the moment the spell was broken. Death was certain.