Chapter Seven: A Slip of the Tongue, Adding Fuel to the Fire

With the command from the current head of the household, Lang Caimeng hurriedly reached out to pull Lang Jiuchuan, calling to his wife, "Wanfang, take Ninth Sister away to settle in."

Leave? That would never do. If she left, how could she siphon the virtue and fortune she needed?

"Let go. I'm not leaving. No one can stop me from staying here to perform my filial duties."

As Lang Jiuchuan struggled slightly, a crisp *crack* echoed through the room.

Mistress Wu gasped, staring at her hand, her face turning pale. Lang Caimeng felt the strange sensation in the hand he had been gripping and instinctively let go. *Good heavens,* he thought, *since when did I possess such supernatural strength?*

He looked down to see Lang Jiuchuan’s right hand hanging limply, as if it had lost all support from bone or sinew. It was clearly broken.

The gazes of those in the hall fell upon Lang Caimeng, filled with astonishment. How much resentment could he possibly hold against this village girl to strike with such cruelty?

Lang Caimeng’s face flushed red, and he stammered in a panic, "No, I didn't use any force! I didn't mean to!"

Heaven was his witness—he had only tugged at her, not with any roughness, let alone force. But with her hand visibly broken, who would believe him?

"You… why haven't you called for the manor physician yet?" Lang Zhengping was startled as well. Was this niece he hadn't seen in so long really that fragile? He didn't dare utter any harsh words to reprimand her for her loose tongue anymore; she was the only flesh and blood left of his late younger brother, the lone seedling of that branch. Besides, the boy’s mother was watching.

Lang Zhengping cast a glance at Mistress Cui, feeling a twinge of guilt, and scolded Lang Caimeng, "You have no sense of restraint! How could you be so heavy-handed? This is your own cousin."

Lang Caimeng felt wronged. *I am innocent! I truly only pulled her ever so slightly!*

Mistress Wu stepped forward, trembling as she reached out to support Lang Jiuchuan. "Ninth Sister, the physician will be here soon. Let us go to the side chamber and wait."

It wasn't that she felt any particular fondness for Lang Jiuchuan, but the girl had just returned to the manor and was the sole survivor of the second branch. If word got out that the eldest son of the primary line had broken the arm of an orphan from the second branch during their grandfather’s funeral, the public scorn would drown them.

Lang Jiuchuan shook off her broken hand. "There is no need."

Mistress Wu felt faint as she watched the limp limb sway, her heart pounding wildly. Lang Jiuchuan, however, acted as if nothing had happened. She grabbed her own wrist, another *crack* sounded, and after muttering a brief incantation and gesturing over the limb, she held it up again. "I can set it myself." She needed to find suitable tendons to graft soon, otherwise, having it snap off every now and then would be a nuisance.

The onlookers were dumbstruck, staring at Lang Jiuchuan as if she were a monster. She looked perfectly unremarkable, yet to be able to reset a broken bone without changing her expression—was this truly something a young girl could do?

"Now that it's fine, I can go back to burning the paper offerings."

Was the paper really the most important thing right now? Mistress Cui felt as if she had experienced a lifetime of turmoil in just a few breaths. She stepped forward with a darkened face and commanded in a stern voice, "You wretched creature, are you not going to follow me?"

Lang Jiuchuan’s footsteps faltered. She turned her head to look at her. "What did you call me? A wretched creature?"

As Mistress Cui looked into her eyes, her heart gave a violent jolt, and she was overcome by a sudden panic. She blinked hard, but when she looked again, the girl’s eyes were round and bright. Had she seen wrong? Just a moment ago, she had seemed to stare into two hollow, empty sockets—nothingness that was deeply chilling.

*My eyes must be playing tricks on me,* she thought.

Seeing the mother and daughter seemingly at odds, the others felt a sense of dread. Lang Zhengping immediately signaled his daughter-in-law. They couldn't afford to lose face in front of outsiders!

Mistress Wu hurried forward to support Lang Jiuchuan. "Ninth Sister, let the physician take a look. We must apply medicine if needed; we shouldn't delay."

Lang Jiuchuan pulled away from her, sneering at Mistress Cui. "A daughter returns home after over a decade, and you address her as a 'wretched creature'? Pray tell, Madam, what have I done to deserve such a title? Is it because I spoke the truth—that this old man doesn't have much time left?"

The onlookers felt another wave of darkness wash over them. *Your mother isn't entirely wrong to call you that,* they thought. *You really are a disaster. Why bring up that topic again? Hadn't we already moved past your previous slip of the tongue? Why pour oil on the fire?*