Chapter 42 Another Death Reported

The carriage wheels made a dull rumble against the long street. Lang Zhengping sat cross-legged, looking at the delicate young lady seated across from the small tea table. Seeing her reach for a piece of cloud-slice pastry on the table, he quickly pushed the plate further toward her.

"The cloud-slice pastries at the Ruyi House are made soft and sweet; they are the specialty of the house. If you like them, I can have the household servants buy them for you in the future," Lang Zhengping said in an extremely gentle tone.

Lang Jiuchuan shuddered inwardly.

This tone was far too soft; she was not used to it.

Silently lowering the pastry in her hand, she looked at Lang Zhengping and said, "You don't need to tread so carefully around me. I am not some fierce beast that will leap out and bite people."

That is right, you are just an ordinary little crow. You don't bite people with your mouth, you kill them!

Lang Zhengping gave a cough and asked probingly, "Have you ever studied Daoist arts?"

Lang Jiuchuan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Back at your grandfather's mourning hall, you showed a trick. Ordinary people would not be able to spot what was wrong with paper-crafted goods, let alone use terms like 'infusing spirit into paper figurines,' yet you picked it out immediately. And as for that old Daoist, did you engage in a duel of magic with him? If not, how else could that man suddenly end up like that? Furthermore, regarding old Master Zhao, you said he wouldn't live for many more days, and indeed..."

Lang Zhengping stared right at her. "Once could be a coincidence, but repeatedly so, it is no longer one."

Lang Jiuchuan met his gaze. There was a hint of wariness in his eyes, along with probing and doubt—he was clearly suspecting her.

What a coincidence; Lang Jiuchuan had never intended to live out the original owner's life in the same manner anyway. To revitalize this mortal shell, she was bound to encounter many unexplainable events henceforth. She could neither conceal it forever nor offer explanations time and time again. She would only be herself, and therefore she had never planned to hide things completely from the start, but rather to let everyone get used to her ways of doing things.

After all, she would eventually become the true and entirely new Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan replied, "It is not a coincidence. What do you plan to do about it? I do indeed understand a few things that ordinary people do not."

Lang Zhengping was startled. "How could a young girl like you know such things? Even if you were not raised in the Marquis's Mansion while living at the country estate, I know your grandmother specifically assigned her trusted senior nanny to wait upon you, and she also hired private tutors. They would certainly never teach you such chaotic and bizarre matters."

A flash crossed Lang Jiuchuan's eyes. Was he not suspecting that she was someone else entirely?

Lowering her gaze slightly, she mused, "Over the past two years, I met a wandering Daoist. He observed that my bone structure was extraordinary and that we shared a master-disciple affinity, so he taught me..."

Her voice trailed off under Lang Zhengping's somewhat mocking gaze.

Lang Zhengping let out a cold chuckle. *Go on, make up stories. Why aren't you continuing?*

"Extraordinary bone structure? You mean he thought your life would be short... and that you were tender, easily bullied, and gullible, right?" Lang Zhengping said. "What wandering Daoist? I reckon he was just a charlatan, specialized in scamming naive young girls like you. As for you, you take after your father. When he was ten years old back then, he also met a jianghu swindler who told him he had an extraordinary bone structure, a natural-born martial arts prodigy, and decided to pass down a peerless martial art where 'speed is the only invulnerability.' He handed him a tattered manual of boxing techniques and cleanly defrauded him of several hundred taels..."

As he spoke, his emotions suddenly plummeted, and the corners of his eyes turned somewhat red.

Lang Jiuchuan watched his unguarded emotions and remained silent.

It seemed he had shared an exceptionally deep bond with the cheap father of this physical body.

Very obediently, Lang Jiuchuan refrained from interrupting his reminiscence of the deceased. She picked up the snow-white cloud-slice pastry once again, taking tiny, delicate bites.

Truly sweet, truly soft, truly fragrant.

This was the flavor only a living person could experience.

It was wonderful to be alive.

After a brief moment of sentimentality, Lang Zhengping pretended not to care as he lifted his gaze toward the carriage wall, then looked back at Lang Jiuchuan. Seeing her cheeks moving like a little mouse, overlapping with the memory of the young boy who used to trail behind him begging for malt sugar, his expression softened. He personally poured a cup of tea and placed it before her. "Eat slowly, don't choke."

Lang Jiuchuan accepted it, took a sip, and repeated, "I understand a little bit of the Dao following nature."

Believe it or not as you please.

Lang Zhengping simply assumed she had learned some superficial tricks, and that at most, her mouth was consecrated with a curse—somewhat venomous, perhaps. After all, some people always possessed peculiarities; some were born with photographic memories and hailed as literary stars, some were born with immense physical strength, while others easily caught sight of unclean entities.

As for his niece, well, she just had a consecrated mouth.

As for truly imagining her as one of those enigmatic, eccentric talents from mystic aristocratic clans, he dared not think of that at all.

After pondering for a moment, Lang Zhengping earnestly advised, "A young lady is best off being demure and tranquil. You are a daughter of the Lang family, my niece. Even if your father is no longer here, I will still put effort into your marriage and find you a good husband. So you should stop meddling in these spooky, bizarre things."

Lang Jiuchuan was stunned for a moment before she chuckled. "With a constitution like mine, I shouldn't go about ruining other people's lives. It wouldn't look good for a daughter of the Lang family to acquire a reputation for cursing her husband to death."

Lang Zhengping's expression shifted slightly as he frowned and rebuked, "Do not belittle yourself so much. Your health can always be conditioned and improved."

Lang Jiuchuan gave a noncommittal response.

Seeing her reaction, Lang Zhengping wanted to offer some comforting and encouraging words, but the words stuck in his throat, and he fell silent.

He felt a deep sense of guilt toward his second younger brother.

"What is going on with Magistrate Shen? Do you even know his son?" Lang Zhengping changed the subject.

Lang Jiuchuan replied, "I do not know him. I only know how to read fortunes. As I said, I understand a bit of how the Dao follows nature."

Seeing that she did not seem to be lying, Lang Zhengping narrowed his eyes and asked, "Then when you said he would come to a bad end, will that truly be the case?"

"If he fails to resolve the trouble he has encountered, that will indeed be his end." Lang Zhengping watched as he refilled her cup without any airs, and after a moment of thought, she offered a hint: "This man is incorruptible and extremely righteous. You can cultivate a deep friendship with him."

Lang Zhengping let out a dry laugh. "A third-rank official holding real power—who wouldn't want to cultivate a deep friendship with him? But the other party has to think the Lang family worthy first."

The self-mockery in his words was entirely unmasked.

*Wait, no,* he thought. *Didn't she just say Shen Qinghe would come to a bad end? Why is she telling me to cultivate a deep friendship with him instead?*

Could it be that she was truly capable of helping the Shen family resolve some thorny predicament?

Impossible. How old was she? With that frail little frame of hers that couldn't even withstand wind and rain, how could she possibly have such capability?

In the next instant, Lang Zhengping recalled the scene of Marquis Peng's heir dropping dead on the spot, and goosebumps broke out all over his body.

He wanted to ask, yet he did not dare.

He was afraid that whatever came out of that consecrated mouth of hers would be something ominous.

The carriage stopped; they had already returned to the Marquis's Mansion.

Lang Zhengping stepped down from the carriage first and saw his trusted steward, Gao Ping, hurrying toward him with a face full of sorrow and grief.

Lang Jiuchuan glanced at Gao Ping and remarked from behind Lang Zhengping, "He has lost his son."

The children's palace in his face was dim, pitch-black, and ominous, with lines resembling a sword slash—it indicated a recent bereavement.

Lang Zhengping's heart skipped a beat. "What did you say?"

Gao Ping only had one son and one daughter. If he had lost a son, did that mean Liangzi was gone?

"Lord Heir," Gao Ping hurried over, dropping to his knees with a choked, tearful voice. "We subordinates were incompetent; Liangzi is gone."

*There it is,* she had predicted another death.

The world went dark before Lang Zhengping's eyes. Were the deaths he had encountered or heard of lately simply far too frequent?