Chapter Nineteen: The Emperor's Bell at My Side, Cui Jue Has Led Me Astray

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Lang Jiuchuan, unaware that she was a pitiful creature, opened the small bundle she had brought with her. There was hardly anything inside—only a red box.

When she had crawled out of the pile of corpses and emerged from the forest that day, the Lang household servants had already been searching everywhere for her. The moment they saw her, they stuffed her into a carriage and prepared to rush her back to the capital so she could play the dutiful granddaughter. But the remnants of her former body still clung to the house, insisting that she return to gather a few things. Otherwise, she threatened to jump from the carriage, and the servant had no choice but to indulge her.

Time was short, and she took almost nothing. Guided only by a vague impulse, she grabbed the red box and hastily wrapped it in a piece of coarse cloth.

The box was utterly unremarkable—not even a single carved flower adorned it. It had merely been coated with red lacquer. Lang Jiuchuan did not open it, for it belonged to the original owner. What she took from the bundle was a delicate, compact, antique bronze bell. That was hers.

It was no larger than a baby’s palm. Its handle ended in the shape of a mountain peak, its bronze surface clear and gleaming. Countless talismanic characters were engraved across its body, and whenever it moved, it seemed as though invisible golden waves of baleful energy were swirling within.

With a thought, she pinched the handle and gave it a light tap.

Ding-ling!

The sound was clear and the aura pure. Golden ripples spread outward, and Da Man and Little Man, working in the courtyard, shuddered from head to toe and looked at each other.

“Did you hear that?”

“Sounded like a bell?”

The sisters glanced toward the bedchamber, then lowered their heads and resumed their work. Yet both exhaled a breath of stale air at the same time, their bodies suddenly feeling lighter, as though the fatigue accumulated over the past several days had vanished in an instant.

Lang Jiuchuan, too, savored the subtle effect of striking the bell. Her entire body felt refreshed.

This was the Imperial Bell, a great Daoist ritual artifact, renowned as a bell whose vibration commanded the respect of gods and ghosts alike. Aside from intimidating spirits and demons, when used properly, it could soothe the soul and still the mind.

This body of hers was far too damaged. Until she repaired it, she had to protect it carefully, lest some heedless demon or ghost seize it.

A ruined body was still a body, after all. It was her vessel, and therefore required meticulous care.

At the top of the Imperial Bell was a trident with a small hole through it. A strand of white dust-brush hair, fine as a thread, passed through the hole. It was said to have been pulled from the dust brush of the Grand Supreme Elder Lord himself. Not even the fires of Hell could sever it. It contained supreme Daoist intent and was extraordinarily precious.

Lang Jiuchuan tied the Imperial Bell to the hemp cord around her waist. It hung down no farther than an adult’s palm, resembling an ornamental pendant used to weigh down the front of a robe. She smiled until her eyes narrowed.

With the Imperial Bell at her side, no ghost would dare approach her. Wonderful!

Next, she picked up another object from the bundle: a Talisman Brush of Jade Bone. It was purple from tip to base, with inscriptions carved along its shaft, while the end bore a tiny brush resembling a miniature broom.

This was the Judge’s innate talisman brush. With a single stroke, it could inscribe the Register of Life and Death, judge cause and effect, correct injustice, and establish fairness.

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To put it simply, if someone used sorcery to defy Heaven and alter fate, one stroke of this brush would restore the scales—no matter how far they had already been tipped—to their original balance.

What a convenient little treasure, and such a useful tool for stirring up trouble!

Without the slightest hesitation, Lang Jiuchuan jabbed the brush into her palm. Blood welled up. With a thought, the talisman brush in her grasp flashed with golden light and vanished into her palm. With another thought, it appeared there once more.

“Consider it compensation for finding me this ruined body.”

Fully satisfied, Lang Jiuchuan gave the brush an approving tap, then pressed the Imperial Bell hanging from her waist. Only then did she lie down on the bed and peacefully close her eyes.

She had no idea that the underworld had already been turned upside down.

The Judge was chasing several ghost officials around while investigating the whereabouts of his talisman brush. They found nothing. At last, he sensed it and was just about to summon it back when the connection vanished in an instant. A moment later, his spiritual platform erupted in violent pain.

His talisman brush had acknowledged someone else as its master!

Who had done it? Who?

The Judge hurriedly produced a spare talisman brush. It was a smaller version of the Jade-Bone Talisman Brush. With one stroke, a water mirror appeared, revealing the truth behind the brush’s disappearance.

When he had left that unlucky Lang Jiuchuan behind at the burial mound and fled, she had pretended to cling to his robes, murmuring her reluctance to part. In reality, her hand had already slipped the brush from his belt. She had even picked up a finger bone from the ground and transformed it into a counterfeit brush, tucking it back into place for him.

The sheer audacity!

Never before had the world seen such a shameless yet nimble-handed thief.

“That damned woman!” Furious, the Judge tried to rush through the Ghost Gate and settle the score with her, but a crowd of ghost officials held him back, all talking over one another as they tried to persuade him. Even Old Xie and Old Fan came running when they heard the news.

It was easy to invite a god but difficult to send one away. If they endured this moment of anger, the underworld would remain peaceful. They had finally managed to send that calamity incarnate back to the mortal world; there was no need to provoke her again.

The Judge raged, “Of course you can stand there preaching when none of your treasures have been stolen!”

“Old Cui, let’s set everything else aside. She comes rummaging through your Register of Life and Death every few days, pointing fingers and even scribbling all over it. When the whole mess is done, who is it that has to rack his brains and exhaust himself cleaning it up? You, Old Cui!” Old Xie glanced at his colleague’s hairline, which had receded considerably and grown noticeably thinner, and said sympathetically, “Your hair is hair too. Take pity on it while you still can.”

“Sacrifice the lesser self for the greater good. Lord Yama said he would record this as a merit,” Old Fan added. “Besides, you only lost your talisman brush. She lost even the Imperial Bell, and she did not make a sound.”

The Judge was startled. “Has she grown hair on her guts?”

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Whether she had grown hair or not, no one knew. In any case, even their supreme lord dared not lay a finger on her. So he would do well to recognize the situation. It was only an innate talisman brush; making do with the spare would have to suffice.

The Judge frowned. Just what was this demon queen’s background?

Lang Jiuchuan awoke from her sleep to find that a full day and night had passed. She stared at the canopy above her, her mind somewhat muddled.

What exactly had she forgotten?

There was a faint commotion outside. It was the voices of Da Man and Little Man. A head poked around the folding screen in the room.

Lang Jiuchuan turned her head. Little Man let out a startled cry, then hurried over.

“Miss, you’re awake.”

Hearing the movement, Da Man entered as well. Her expression relaxed slightly. Their mistress had slept for an entire day and night without waking, without even changing her sleeping position. She had been so still that she seemed lifeless. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, they would truly have thought she had died.

“What time is it?” Lang Jiuchuan sat up.

Da Man replied, “It is already the third quarter of the Hour of the Rabbit. If you had not woken soon, we would have had to rouse you ourselves.”

“You must get up quickly, Miss. The old master’s coffin is to be sealed today, and every master of the household must be present.” Little Man added, “The eldest young mistress sent someone to say that the coffin will be sealed at the second quarter of the Hour of the Dragon.”

In the Dan Kingdom, funerals generally involved keeping the body on display for seven days. The coffin was sealed on the third day after the funeral rites began, partly to ensure that no one was accidentally sealed inside while in a state of suspended animation. The old master had now been dead for three days, so the coffin had to be closed.

After seven days, the funeral procession would depart. The men of the household would escort the coffin back to the ancestral home for burial. Once the funeral was complete, the family would enter the mourning period.

Thinking through the process, Lang Jiuchuan immediately realized that her situation was dire. If she had to observe mourning, she could not leave the house. And if she could not leave the house, where would she find the merit and restoration her ruined body required?

Was this not even less freedom than she had possessed at the estate?

Damn it! So she had not entered a gilded nest for a wealthy songbird after all. She had entered an ornate but empty cage for a sparrow!

Lang Jiuchuan angrily pounded the bed.

“That bastard Cui Jue has ruined me!”

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