Chapter 24: Lang Jiu's Crow-Like Mouth Has Cursed Someone to Death

The clamor caused the Lang family, whose nerves had only just begun to settle, to tighten once more. They turned in unison to look at the figure charging toward them like a madman.

When they clearly saw the man’s identity and his attire, everyone stiffened. Good heavens, dead memories were being forcibly resurrected.

"You won't live past three days!"

That was the curse the lunatic Lang Jiuchuan had laid upon Old Master Zhao just two days ago. Now, before those three days had even passed, the man’s grandson had arrived at their doorstep draped in white mourning clothes.

Why would a perfectly healthy man wear mourning clothes? If he was wearing them, it could only mean someone in his family had been summoned by the King of Hell. As for who had passed away in the Zhao household, they were two hundred percent certain it was Old Master Zhao. Otherwise, Zhao Yuancheng would not look as though he wanted to swallow Lang Jiuchuan whole.

The Lang family found the funeral preparations exhausting. One crisis after another kept arising, and every single one seemed to have Lang Jiuchuan’s shadow hanging over it. Someone muttered, "She really is a walking disaster."

Zhao Yuancheng had already spotted Lang Jiuchuan. She stood alone in a corner, appearing out of place among the rest of the Lang family. She looked unremarkable, yet was impossible to ignore. His eyes were bloodshot as he gritted out two words: "Lang Jiu."

She was watching him with a calm expression. Even though he was clad in heavy mourning gear, she showed none of the astonishment of the other Langs, nor did she reveal a hint of surprise. She had known all along.

This cold, all-knowing look stung Zhao Yuancheng’s eyes, and he lunged forward. Lady Cui’s heart leapt into her throat, and she instinctively took a couple of steps forward, only to see a figure block Lang Jiuchuan’s path.

"Brother Zhao, let’s speak calmly. Today is the day we seal my grandfather’s coffin," Lang Caimeng said, standing between them. He bowed to Zhao Yuancheng, his gaze lingering on the mourning clothes with a look of hesitation.

Zhao Yuancheng ground his teeth. "Move aside."

Lang Caimeng dared not move. The other man looked ready to explode; he feared that if someone handed him a knife, he would hack Lang Jiuchuan into nine pieces.

Lang Zhengping had also approached. Seeing the mourning clothes on Zhao Yuancheng, his shock was no less than when he had seen the sinister long needle pulled from his own father’s head earlier. "Yuancheng, this mourning attire..."

Zhao Yuancheng’s throat worked. He stared past Lang Caimeng’s shoulder at Lang Jiuchuan behind him, his voice choking as he said, "Grandfather. My grandfather passed away this morning."

The crowd gasped. Their worst fears had been confirmed. The curse had held true.

Feeling the weight of every gaze, Lang Jiuchuan pushed past Lang Caimeng to face Zhao Yuancheng. "You’ve found me. What do you want?"

"You cursed my grandfather to death!" Zhao Yuancheng’s eyes were blood-red, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked.

"Zhao Yuancheng!"

A thunderous shout jolted everyone. Lang Zhengping hurriedly stepped forward to greet the man who had arrived behind the youth: Zhao Kun, Zhao Yuancheng’s father and the current Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice. He, too, was dressed in heavy mourning. He bowed with his hands clasped and called out the man’s courtesy name: "Brother Qining."

Zhao Kun returned the bow. "My son has been rude. I hope you will not take offense, brother."

Lang Zhengping shook his head and asked urgently, "I just heard from Yuancheng that your father, he...?"

"When the servants went to wake him this morning, they found that he had already departed for the immortal realms," Zhao Kun said, his lips twitching slightly. "He passed in his sleep. It was very peaceful; he had no regrets."

"Father!" Zhao Yuancheng still seethed with resentment. It was clearly that vicious girl Lang Jiu who had cursed his grandfather.

Zhao Kun glared at him. "Shut up! You are about to be a father yourself; how can you be so reckless? How can you face the years of careful guidance your grandfather gave you? And your words just now were deeply hurtful. 'Cursing'? That is utter nonsense. Apologize to your cousin from the Lang family at once!"

Zhao Yuancheng was stunned. *Cousin?* To hell with that—he had no such wicked, jinxed cousin!

Seeing him remain stubborn, Zhao Kun shot him another fierce glare before turning his attention to Lang Jiuchuan. His expression was inscrutable as he stepped forward. "So, this is Zhengfan’s daughter? She has grown so much. My apologies. Your Brother Zhao grew up by his grandfather’s side; now that he is suddenly gone, he couldn't accept it and spoke harshly to you. Uncle Zhao apologizes on his behalf. Please, do not hold it against him."

Seeing him actually bow, everyone was bewildered. *Is this really happening?*

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow. "You don't blame me? He said I cursed your father to death."

Zhao Kun gave a bitter smile. "Birth, old age, sickness, and death are inevitable. My father was of a certain age. As for curses, those are just groundless rumors. Your Brother Zhao has simply lost his wits from grief."

Zhao Yuancheng’s eyes grew even redder with anger. He stepped forward again, but was grabbed by both arms by Lang Caimeng and Lang Caze.

"Brother, we truly apologize for the disturbance today. If this unfilial son hadn't burst in, I wouldn't have been able to spare the time to come. We have just set up the mourning hall at home and things are in chaos, so we shall not stay long. Let us meet again another day," Zhao Kun said to Lang Zhengping. He bowed toward the mourning hall, hesitated for a moment, then turned to Lang Jiuchuan. "Little Jiu, may I have a word in private?"

"Since he has passed, there is nothing more to be said," Lang Jiuchuan replied, as if she knew what he wanted to ask.

Zhao Kun seemed relieved, an expression that made Lang Zhengping glance at him sideways.

Lang Jiuchuan cast a glance at her side, then looked at Zhao Kun. She beckoned him over and, once he was close, whispered, "There is a book titled *Records of Natural History* on the second shelf of the South Study. Go back and read it."

Zhao Kun’s pupils constricted as he stared at her intently.

Lang Jiuchuan sighed helplessly and added, "Also, he wants to be buried in the powder-blue silk robe embroidered with begonia flowers."

Zhao Kun’s fingers trembled. He took a deep breath, wanting to say something, but saw that Lang Jiuchuan had already turned and was walking back toward the mourning hall. She tilted her head slightly, her lips moving as if she were talking to someone, which made him freeze, his eyes welling with tears.

The crowd watched this scene, looking at one another in confusion, and only regained their senses after Lang Zhengping had seen the Zhao father and son off.

"No, wait—so she really did curse Old Master Zhao to death? Isn't she a textbook definition of a jinx?" Lang Cailing’s voice was sharp.

Lady Wu, standing beside her, tugged at her sleeve and gestured toward the others. Lang Cailing looked over to see her stepmother and Lady Cui standing side by side, both staring at her with unreadable expressions. Her face turned pale.

The rest of the Lang family, despite their overwhelming curiosity, dared not speak a word. What if Lang Jiu heard them and cursed them too, and it turned out to be one of those cases where the good didn't come true, but the bad certainly did?

Meanwhile, Zhao Kun was lecturing the furious Zhao Yuancheng. "You are the eldest grandson. Your grandfather has just passed, the house is in chaos, and as the grandson he pinned his hopes on, you should be helping with the funeral instead of causing trouble at someone else's house! And this talk of 'cursing'—is this how a scholar who has read the sages talks? If such words get out, not only will it ruin that girl’s reputation, but you will be mocked for being unable to distinguish right from wrong."

Zhao Yuancheng felt a pang of shame, yet argued, "But you didn't hear how she cursed him, saying he didn't have many days left, and then he truly..."

Zhao Kun looked at him and said, "Yes, he truly passed away. But have you not considered that if this is not a coincidence, what basis did she have for such an accurate prophecy?"

Zhao Yuancheng stiffened, his fingers curling slightly.

Zhao Kun’s eyes held a deep sorrow. "After your grandfather’s funeral is over, I will speak with you in detail."

He lifted the carriage curtain and looked back at the Lang estate. Recalling Lang Jiuchuan’s words and the frantic, exhausting work he had done over the last two days under his father’s instructions, he pressed his lips together.

The Lang family... they truly held some secrets of destiny.