Chapter Twenty-Three: A Scheme to Extirpate the Lang Clan

As Lang Zhengping vomited blood in a fit of rage, the already chaotic mourning hall descended into further disarray.

After swallowing two heart-protection pills, Lang Zhengping’s heart, which had felt like it was being seared by boiling oil, finally calmed down. He took a deep breath, looked at Lang Jiuchuan, and asked after a long pause, his eyes filled with scrutiny and an inexplicable tension, "How did you know your grandfather’s remains had been tampered with?"

Lang Jiuchuan replied, "Who knows? Perhaps the old gentleman came to me in a dream to complain of a headache."

This insubordinate tone caused a dull, suffocating pain in Lang Zhengping’s chest. The blood surged to his throat once more, but he forced it down and demanded, "Is there anything else? What exactly are they trying to achieve by doing this?"

His final question was delivered through gritted teeth, his rage barely contained.

Lang Jiuchuan peeled off the two "Yin-Gathering Talismans" stuck inside the coffin and handed them to the Taoist priest Zhong. "Since you could discern the trickery behind the coffin nails, you must possess some level of expertise. You explain it to him."

Taoist Priest Zhong: "?"
*Wait, is this young woman really being this presumptuous?*

He looked up at Lang Jiuchuan, and upon observing her features, he felt a flicker of confusion. He took the yellow talisman and frowned. "This is an Yin-Gathering Talisman? Master Jingchi, would you please verify this?"

Master Jingchi took the talisman, examined it carefully, and chanted a Buddhist prayer. "There is no doubt. It is indeed an Yin-Gathering Talisman."

Seeing the grave expressions on their faces, Lang Zhengping’s heart sank to the bottom. He ordered the household members to retreat outside the hall, keeping only his eldest son and third brother nearby to ask in a hushed voice, "May I ask, two masters, what is the meaning of this talisman?"

Taoist Priest Zhong and Master Jingchi exchanged a look, both seeing the helplessness in the other's eyes. They had been dragged into the dark dealings of a noble family—something no monk or priest desired—but since they were already caught in the mundane world, they could not simply ignore it.

"My practice is limited, but I know a little about this, so please listen, benefactor. It is rumored that if one uses Yin-煞 needles to fix the bones, places Yin-Gathering Talismans inside the coffin, and seals it with coffin nails soaked in Yin-煞 energy, then in time, the deceased’s remains will inevitably transform into a malevolent spirit. Once that malevolent spirit is fully formed, the burial site will become a place of Yin-煞, which, according to feng shui, is a sign of extreme misfortune. It would bring disaster to the surrounding land and even to the descendants..."

Taoist Priest Zhong stopped there.

People value the concept of falling leaves returning to their roots. The burial site of the Marquis of Kaiping would naturally be the Lang family’s ancestral grave. If Lang Jiuchuan had not intervened and they had buried the old man in the ancestral plot as planned, once the malevolent site was established, the Lang family’s feng shui would eventually be ruined, and their descendants would perish.

The person behind this was truly malicious.

The faces of Lang Zhengping and his kin turned ghastly pale.
*What a venomous heart! They intend to wipe out the entire Lang clan!*

Lang Caimeng, who had never encountered such eerie occult dealings, asked with a pale face, "If this succeeds, will my Lang family truly suffer one disaster after another? Do such sorcerers really exist in this world?"

Taoist Priest Zhong smiled faintly. "The arts of the crooked path have always existed, as have such evil spells. Practitioners of these dark arts are what we call 'evil cultivators.' However, it is not easy to attain any real skill, so whether they succeed depends on the practitioner’s ability and whether the evil artifacts used are effective."

"Then, in your expert opinion, is this sorcerer who targeted my Lang family difficult to deal with?" Lang Zhengping asked, his face darkening.

Taoist Priest Zhong subconsciously glanced at Lang Jiuchuan, his words vague. "Benefactor, do not panic. The Lang family is protected by its own merits and noble destiny; you will certainly pass through this crisis unscathed. Besides, isn't this malevolent trap already broken?"

And the one who broke the trap appeared to be the young woman before them. It was truly strange; her features were impossible to read.

Master Jingchi also looked at Lang Jiuchuan. When she turned her gaze toward him, those eyes...

Master Jingchi felt a sudden, sharp pain in his eyes. He quickly closed them, chanted a prayer, and felt a deep sense of shock.

Following Taoist Priest Zhong’s gaze, Lang Zhengping looked on, lost in thought, his fingers rubbing together.

Lang Jiuchuan bent down to tidy the disheveled hair of the Old Marquis. In a spot hidden from everyone’s view, a drop of blood seeped from her fingertip, and she quickly traced a talisman on his forehead. Once the light of the talisman faded into his skin, she straightened up and said to Lang Zhengping, "The auspicious hour is almost over. Seal the coffin; missing the hour would be unfortunate."

Sealing the coffin was an act of comforting the spirit of the deceased, so it should not be delayed. Other matters would have to wait.

Lang Zhengping understood the urgency. He bowed to the two masters and said, "We know nothing of these occult arts and do not know how to handle these items, nor whether my father needs to be re-shrouded. I must trouble you both to oversee the ceremony. Please ensure my father is laid to rest peacefully to soothe his spirit. Once the funeral rites are concluded, I will certainly light the most magnificent eternal lamps for him at Ci'en Temple and Qinghua Temple."

"Immeasurable Longevity."
"Amitabha."

With the two of them presiding, they summoned several more monks and priests to reorganize the mourning hall. Amidst the sounds of funeral music, the sealing of the coffin began, and all the mourning children withdrew outside to wait.

Madam Fan, filled with unease, twisted her hands and leaned toward her husband to ask, "What was that just now?"

Lang Zhengping shook his head. "We will talk later."

Madam Cui, kneeling behind them, lifted her eyelids slightly before lowering them again, forcing herself not to turn toward Lang Jiuchuan.

As the sealing began, the crowd began to wail, for once the lid of the coffin was closed, they would never see him again.

As the eldest son, Lang Zhengping personally hammered in the final coffin nail, then collapsed to his knees, pressing his forehead against the ground and weeping bitterly.

Not far away, the crowd stood or knelt, watching with sorrowful expressions.

"To have a funeral as chaotic as ours—we must be the only family in the capital to manage this," Lang Cailing muttered. "If this gets out, our Marquis of Kaiping’s estate will become the laughingstock of the city." How would they ever face anyone again?

Lang Caiguang tugged at the black mourning band on his arm and said in a devil-may-care tone, "Let them laugh. We have to observe the mourning period anyway and don't need to go out. Can they really keep laughing at us for three years?"

The capital never lacked fresh news; no matter how talked-about a topic was, it would soon be buried by the next one.

Even so, with such a scene, outsiders would certainly say they lacked discipline in managing their household. Would this affect their future marriage prospects?

It was all Lang Jiuchuan’s fault. She was a true troublemaker; she had caused so many problems the moment she returned.

Looking at the culprit, she was not only lost in thought but had even let out a yawn.

Lang Cailing glared at Lang Jiuchuan. When the latter looked back, Cailing subconsciously hid behind Lang Caiguang. Upon realizing her own reaction, she stomped her feet in frustration.

*What am I afraid of?*

But the memory of the girl's series of actions, and the black mist that felt like a dream, made her heart shudder.

Lang Cailing closed her eyes, thinking, *I’m not afraid of her. I’m just letting her have her way because I’m the older sister.*

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from behind. Lang Cailing turned to see someone charging in, dressed in white mourning clothes and radiating killing intent. Behind him, a group of people were sweating profusely as they tried to hold him back.

The man shoved those blocking his path aside, roaring like a madman, "Get out of my way! Lang Jiu, get out here right now!"