Chapter Twelve: Lang Jiu Shows Signs of Madness

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On her way to the Kangshou Residence, Lang Jiuchuan gleaned quite a bit of information about her own body from the incessant chatter of Madame Wang.

For instance, though she was a child of the second branch, by seniority among peers, she ranked ninth. This was because the uncles from the first and third branches had long since married, whereas her father, Lang Zhengfan, had married late and fathered children late as well. By the time she was born, the children from the first and third branches had already arrived one after another like bamboo shoots after rain, placing her ninth in line.

“Everyone of my generation has names starting with the character ‘Cai,’ but my name is Jiuchuan?” Lang Jiuchuan asked with some curiosity.

Madame Wang sighed sadly. “Miss Jiu, your name was given by Second Master even before you were born. He chose it before leaving for battle, based on a line of poetry I haven’t read much of, so I can’t recall it exactly. You should ask Second Madam; she knows best. What I’ve heard is that Second Master hoped you would have the breadth of heart to embrace all rivers and seas.”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “Then he must be disappointed. I hold grudges, I’m petty and rebellious, and I settle scores immediately. Being as broad-hearted as the sea is impossible.”

What good is being like the sea anyway? Taking on everything would just be exhausting.

Madame Wang asked, “Are you resentful towards Second Madam?”

“Our bond as parent and child is shallow. It’s not just the two of them. I hardly have the right to resent anyone,” Lang Jiuchuan said. After all, she wasn’t the original soul and couldn’t truly empathize, only perceive some karmic consequences.

Madame Wang sighed again. “Second Madam hasn’t had it easy. When she first married, she and Second Master were often apart. It took years before she conceived, and she suffered a difficult childbirth. Then Second Master died in battle, and she fell into madness. When a person’s nature veers one way, they easily become misguided. Second Madam is a pitiful soul.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s voice was flat. “The most pitiful one isn’t she, but Jiuchuan—the one sent away since childhood. What wrong did she do?”

As she spoke, they arrived at the Kangshou Residence.

A maid lifted the curtain to relay the message inside, her eyes casually lingering on Lang Jiuchuan, appraising her.

Lang Jiuchuan stepped into the main hall warmed by several charcoal braziers and immediately saw the elderly matriarch dozing on an indigo large bolster embroidered with the Five Blessings and Longevity by the southern window.

Beside her sat a young woman with her hair tied up, her face round and fair, her figure full and her belly slightly swollen. She was Lady Pan, wife of the third son of the first branch, Lang Caicheng, reportedly newly married this spring.

Lady Pan softly called to awaken the matriarch, “Grandmother, Sister Jiu is here.”

The old lady’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze gradually focusing until she saw the young girl beside her. Supported by Madame Wang, she sat upright and smiled warmly, reaching out her hand to Lang Jiuchuan. “My dear, my dear is back.”

Lang Jiuchuan was startled.

Dear… sharing the same warm bed with grandmother.

Dear… don’t eat too many candied hawthorns, they stick to your teeth and cause cavities. Okay, okay, then just one more.

Dear… grandmother misses your father.

Vivid images flashed through Lang Jiuchuan’s mind: the joyful laughter of a child, the younger old matriarch, and then the increasingly sorrowful one lying on her bed.

So she had once known a few fleeting moments of warmth.

Lang Jiuchuan sat down accordingly and looked at the old matriarch, a faint golden gleam flashing in her eyes as she glimpsed the woman’s remaining fate.

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At this sight, the old lady’s complexion paled further.

This body must recover quickly; otherwise, it would be hard to properly assess the qi and fortune, especially since those close to her would do more harm than good.

“Oh my, my dear, why are your hands so cold? Quickly, light two more charcoal braziers and bring me the warming bath,” the matriarch said, holding Lang Jiuchuan’s hand tenderly and calling to Madame Wang, “Gui Zhi, bring my box.”

Lang Jiuchuan looked down at the hand clasping hers—wrinkled, with veins and bones clearly visible on the back.

Madame Wang brought over a box, which the matriarch took and opened like presenting a treasure, placing it in Lang Jiuchuan’s hand. “For you, all for my dear.”

Lang Jiuchuan opened it to find delicate beaded flowers and small bracelets—jewelry only children could wear.

But she had already grown up.

Then inside the box appeared a handful of candies wrapped in purple decorative paper.

Lang Jiuchuan looked up, and the matriarch said proudly, “I won’t give these to anyone else, only you, my dear.”

She reached out and gently touched Lang Jiuchuan’s cheek, murmuring, “It’s good you’ve come back, good you’re home.”

Her eyes were lined with wrinkles, no longer bright but clouded, yet filled purely with love, without a trace of pretense.

Lang Jiuchuan exhaled deeply and softly said, “Grandmother.”

At her words, the matriarch smiled with tears in her eyes, then took a piece of hibiscus cake from a small table and held it to Lang Jiuchuan’s lips. “Eat, it’s sweet.”

Lang Jiuchuan took the cake.

The old lady continued talking to herself, soon dozing off with her eyes half-closed. After a few breaths, she opened her eyes and looked at Lang Jiuchuan with suspicion. “Are you my Fan’er? Your eyes are so much like his.”

Lang Jiuchuan was speechless.

She watched the matriarch, suddenly childlike and restless, being soothed by the maids before dozing off again.

Sitting beside the bed, Lang Jiuchuan placed the old lady’s hand under the quilt and looked down slightly at her aged face.

The matriarch was old, and her days were numbered.

“Since you were six, when the old lady fell ill, she began to lose her memory, forgetting people and things. The imperial doctors said it was because her heart was burdened with worry and grief. She thought of Second Master so much she made herself ill. Truly, the one who went mad was her,” Madame Wang said beside her. “She never intended to keep you always at the estate. She feared you and Second Madam would come to blows, and she couldn’t protect you…”

Lang Jiuchuan listened quietly.

…

The Mourning Hall.

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As dusk approached, fewer and fewer people came to pay their respects—almost none. In the mourning hall, except for a few like Lady Pan, who was pregnant or unwell, everyone else stayed to keep vigil.

The Lang family, large and small, knelt together, the younger generation whispering about Lang Jiuchuan.

It was their first time meeting this sister, who was very different from what they had imagined. The village was rustic, but her spirit was not weak or timid as they had supposed—it was wild.

Lang Jiu was somewhat unhinged; that was their first impression.

If she weren’t unhinged, how could she have said such offensive words to an elder at the mourning hall? No, it went beyond offense—it was outright disrespect.

Not just to a frail elder—if someone cursed me to die soon, wouldn’t I want to fight her?

But Lang Jiu had gone and offended her, yet the family head did not punish her.

“As long as the funeral is ongoing. Once it’s over, Father will make her pay,” Lang Cailing said with a sneer.

Lang Caiyao of the third branch neither agreed nor disagreed but remained silent.

“I doubt it,” Lang Caiguang snorted. “She’s Second Uncle’s only child. First Uncle wouldn’t punish her.”

A trace of jealousy flashed in Lang Cailing’s eyes as she sneered, “So what? She’s still unloved…”

Lang Caiyao tugged her sleeve and nodded toward the door.

Lang Cailing looked and her expression shifted slightly. Cui Shi had returned unexpectedly, standing beside her was the legitimate mother, Madam Fan.

Fan’s cold gaze swept over them, carrying authority and warning.

Cui Shi also glanced at her, silent but without warmth in her eyes.

Of course, Second Aunt came from the prestigious Qinghe Cui family, who valued female virtue and character, and never indulged in gossip. Now that she had caught Lang Jiuchuan red-handed, perhaps she thought she was shaming her and the second branch.

Lang Cailing recalled what her birth mother once said about adopting her younger brother into the second branch as heir, and cold sweat broke out. She forced a weak smile and knelt properly.

Cui Shi entered and stood before her. “Taoism emphasizes: The gentleman is cautious in seven matters. If he is careful to the end as at the start, he will suffer no failure. Be cautious in speech to cultivate virtue, cautious in conduct to strengthen resolve. I hope we may encourage each other.”

Lang Cailing stiffened all over, lowered her head, and trembled as she said, “I will humbly follow your teaching, Second Aunt.”