Chapter 16: This Madwoman, Why Is Her Tongue So Venomous

Chapter 16: This Madwoman, Why Is Her Tongue So Venomous

“There are ghosts!”

A shrill cry tore through the stillness of the mourning hall, once again drawing in a crowd.

Hearing the news of haunting, Lang Zhengping’s face darkened like the bottom of a pot. When he arrived, he saw the Sixth Son of the third branch raving madly, veins bulging at his temples as he shouted of ghosts.

Even his own eldest son and concubine-born son stood pale as death, foreheads bruised, eyes vacant, as if frightened out of their wits.

Relatives rushed in at the commotion, chattering endlessly about what had happened, why the young men looked so wretched.

A hall meant for solemn vigil had been turned into a noisy marketplace—while the coffin of the departed still lay before them.

Absurd.

“Nonsense!” Furious, Lang Zhengping roared, “How can you make such a racket in the mourning hall?”

His shout, filled with full breath and anger, instantly silenced the chaos.

Lang Jiuchuan knelt before the coffin, pulled over the spirit-offering basin, picked up yellow paper from the floor, and threw it in.

The yellow paper ignited without fire.

The notorious little bully of the Lang family’s First Household, Twelfth Young Master Lang, happened to glance over and was so shocked his eyes nearly popped out. He rubbed them hard—was the lamplight too dim, was he seeing things?

Otherwise, how could yellow paper burn without fire?

Wait, didn’t Sixth Brother just say something about a ghost?

Could this be ghost fire?

Twelfth Young Master Lang let out a wail and bolted out of the mourning hall like a stone cast into a just-stilled lake, stirring the air again. Lang Caize snapped back to himself and cried in terror: “Uncle, there really is a ghost. It grabbed my face and even kissed me. Wuwu, if you don’t believe me, ask Eldest Brother. We couldn’t even get out just now.”

Lang Caimeng, called out by name, felt his wife pinch the soft flesh inside his arm so hard that he hissed in pain—but his mind cleared.

“Ridiculous. If you’re tired, go rest. Third, take him down.” Lang Zhengping barked again, glaring at Third Master Lang Zhengwen. Couldn’t he see what nonsense his son was spouting?

Lang Zhengwen’s face turned green. Children should not speak of strange forces and spirits, and this wretched boy actually claimed a ghost kissed him? What, did he want to be a groom so badly? Even if he did, he’d have to wait until the mourning period ended!

Lang Zhengwen ordered servants to drag his son away, but Lang Caize struggled like he was possessed, shouting: “I’m not making this up. Eldest Brother and Fourth Brother know it too. Right, and that damned girl Lang Jiuchuan!”

Lang Jiuchuan?

Everyone paused.

Who was that? Oh right, that Ninth Miss who had just returned home and already stirred up big trouble.

Smelling the burning paper, everyone looked over and saw the inconspicuous girl in plain mourning robes kneeling by the coffin, feeding yellow paper one by one into the fire. Her eyes closed, her expression looked intoxicated—or was it pious?

Lang Jiuchuan was absorbing the faint merit. Sensing gazes fall on her, she snapped her eyes open.

Firelight flickered over her pale face, bright and dim by turns, and in her large, hollow eyes—everyone involuntarily gasped inwardly.

She looks just like a ghost!

Cui Shi, leaning on her matron’s hand, frowned at Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Zhengping also felt a headache. Why was this niece everywhere? She’d been back for less than a day, and already the mourning hall had been thrown into disorder twice. He wanted to scold her, but catching sight of Cui Shi, he held back.

Lang Caicheng swallowed hard and said: “Just now the door really wouldn’t open—it was like someone locked it.”

“Then why did it open again?”

Lang Caicheng looked at Lang Jiuchuan but said nothing.

“Did Ninth Sister kick it open?” Lang Caimeng also looked toward her.

Lang Caize suddenly had a flash of inspiration, glaring at Lang Jiuchuan: “Could it be you making mischief? Pretending to be a ghost just to scare us?”

The villain complains first?

Lang Jiuchuan narrowed her eyes. They were forcing her to snap. Just as she was about to speak, Lang Caimeng said: “Sixth Brother, watch your words. When it happened, only we three brothers were inside. Ninth Sister only came later.”

“But after she came, the door opened.” Lang Caize still found her most suspicious.

Lang Cailing seized the chance, adding from behind Lang Caize: “At this hour, what’s she even doing here?”

“Keeping vigil and showing filial piety—why not?” Lang Jiuchuan grabbed a handful of spirit money and tossed it into the brazier, scattering ash into the air. Smoke spread, choking some into coughing.

She stood and stared at Lang Caize: “If I’d known you were so ungrateful, I would’ve let that female ghost cling to you. If I hadn’t kicked the door, you’d already have been dragged off as a groom. No, not even that—being a ghost groom requires proper rites. You had neither a betrothal letter nor an engagement, no proper name or bond. You wouldn’t even qualify as a groom—at most, you’d be a kept man.”

Everyone’s eyes went wide: “?”

What kind of wild, indecent words were those? They couldn’t even follow!

Lang Caize was so enraged he jumped up, pointing a trembling finger at her: “You—you you you…”

Not even a groom, but a kept man? That was too insulting!

How could her mouth be so poisonous?

Lang Jiuchuan said: “Before the villain accuses others, maybe think of what disgraceful things you did. If a ghost clings to you, isn’t it because you invited it?”

Lang Caize: “!”

What had he done?

Lang Jiuchuan walked to the row of paper effigy maidens: “Tell us—did you lure her or not?”

Everyone followed her finger to the lifelike paper effigy maiden. For some reason, a chill crept up their spines—especially those eyes, which seemed to stare right at them. Eerie.

“In the middle of the night, who are you trying to scare!” Lang Cailing snapped, face pale.

But Lang Caize had already gone rigid, feigning calm: “It’s just a paper effigy. How could I lure it?”

“Didn’t you call her pretty? Why else would she kiss you?” Lang Jiuchuan sneered. “You teased a ghost first, dangled the bait—she only gave you what you wanted.”

Lang Caimeng and Lang Caicheng froze. How did she know?

Of course—it was the female ghost herself, afraid of being troubled by Jiuchuan before fleeing, who had spilled it. In life, she’d been flirtatious; in death, naturally, she was a flirtatious ghost.

A chill spread over Lang Caize’s body. He wanted to speak, but his throat was stuck, as if something was choking him.

“Nonsense.” Lang Zhengping saw the family hushed like frightened chickens, and no longer cared about Cui Shi. He glared at Lang Jiuchuan: “Weren’t you supposed to be attending to your grandmother’s illness? What are you doing here? Someone, take Ninth Miss Lang and Sixth Young Master Lang away.”

Lang Jiuchuan replied: “You brought me back to be a dutiful descendant. Then no one can stop me from fulfilling my filial duty to Grandfather.”

It was healthier to stay near the coffin. Before burial, she might as well absorb more merit.

She pointed again at the paper effigy maiden: “And tonight’s events weren’t by chance. If I were you, I’d find out where this effigy came from. Paper effigies can be imbued with spirit, and any wandering soul can enter.”

She glanced at the effigy’s feet, raising her brow. No wonder more than one little ghost had come—it had a yin object to draw them.

The people present buzzed with confusion. What was she talking about? Why couldn’t they understand!

They couldn’t—but they could see her movements clearly. Cui Shi’s face changed drastically, and she snapped: “Wretch, what are you doing! Stop at once!”

This madwoman—she actually meant to smash the offerings!

(End of Chapter)