Chapter 25: She Was a Mystery All Over

 

Chapter 25: She Was a Mystery All Over

Night fell with the heavy snow. After a day of turmoil, the Lang family, weary in body and mind, gathered around a brazier, whispering about what had happened at the mourning hall. When they recalled being shrouded in that eerie black mist, they all felt lingering fear and unease.

“So was that black fog an illusion, or did that Daoist create it with some trick? What exactly was he trying to do?” Lang Cailing frowned as she asked her brothers and sisters.

Lang Caiyao lowered her gaze, idly playing with her fingers. “That’s not something we can control.”

When she said this, the others glanced around the room. True enough—besides them, everyone who had real authority in the family was absent. The three households of the Lang family each had people who could make decisions, yet none were here now.

“Forget about Father, Mother, Second Aunt, and Third Uncle—but why should Lang Jiu also be called to the study to discuss family matters? Even Eldest Brother wasn’t allowed to go.” Lang Cailing muttered in dissatisfaction, casting a glance at Wu Shi.

Wu Shi immediately saw through her attempt to sow discord, and her heart grew displeased. At a time like this, the girl still thought only of competing for attention.

This concubine-born younger sister, favored because her birth mother was once favored, was herself indulged. With her two elder sisters married off, she alone remained to dote upon and coax the elders. This won her special affection from Father-in-law. Now, she likely fancied herself the Marquis’ cherished daughter, her status superior to others, hence her airs grew ever loftier.

Foolish! The Lang family had declined ever since they backed the wrong side during the late Emperor’s struggle for the throne. Having fallen from the center of power, they became marginal. The current Emperor extols filial piety and benevolence; how could he risk the stain of unfilial conduct by overturning the late Emperor’s will to employ the Langs? Thus, today the Langs remained on the fringes. With the Old Master gone, whether Eldest Master Lang, as Shizi, could even succeed to the Marquisate remained uncertain. How dared she already parade as some lofty young lady?

In the capital, there were noble houses even more fallen than the Langs. Take, for instance, the Marquis of Shun. Though the title was hereditary without fail, it had long become an empty husk. Yet the Zheng clan still multiplied abundantly. Two or three daughters shared one courtyard; their garments and jewelry were outdated. The lives of those so-called legitimate young ladies were less splendid than that of a concubine-born daughter from a fifth-rank official’s household who actually held real power.

The Langs had not yet fallen so far as the household of the Marquis of Shun, forced to pawn ancestral heirlooms to survive. Yet, if no promising descendants emerged, within three generations  they would surely decline into commoners.

And still Lang Cailing dared dream lofty dreams — truly spoiled beyond measure. But her age was already ripe; once her mourning was done, she would be wed off. Perhaps with her dowry, she could live in some comfort for a few years. Yet for women, if their natal family was weak, how could they hold their heads high in their husband’s home?

Wu Shi’s face bore little smile as she said, “The elders have gone to deliberate; the mourning hall cannot be left unattended. Your Eldest Brother is the legitimate eldest grandson; his burden is heavier than all. With the elders absent, he naturally must hold watch. How could he, like a child, bicker and vie over everything?”

As eldest sister-in-law, and future matron of the clan, with father and brothers holding office in court, Wu Shi’s standing in the Lang household was highly respected. Lang Cailing, stung by her subtle rebuke, dared not argue, forcing a smile. “Of course, Eldest Brother surpasses all.”

Yet inwardly, she seethed. Was Eldest Sister-in-law still her kin? Did she not stand with her own younger sister, but instead side with that cousin?

No sense of closeness or distance!

“Speaking of it, do you not all find Ninth Sister most strange?” Lang Caize spoke. “Not to mention the paper effigies haunting two nights ago — even today, how did that Daoist suddenly turn into such a ghastly form? Was it not all connected to Ninth Sister? How would she know of such things?”

“And she even cursed the Zhao family’s old master to death.” Lang Cailing added.

Wu Shi’s face darkened. “Seventh Sister, that talk of curses has no basis at all. We are all sisters. Such words must never be spoken again. If spread, they would bring you no benefit.”

Lang Cailing felt aggrieved. Why was she always scolded?

Lang Caiyao sneered. Fool.

Yet that Ninth Sister of theirs — truly, she was wreathed in mystery, provoking boundless curiosity.

…

Lang Jiuchuan rubbed her itching nose, glancing at the few across from her, their posture like some court tribunal, eager to strip her bare inside and out.

Look all you want. If you see through me, I lose.

Seeing she had no intention to speak, Lang Zhengping asked, “What say you of today’s events? That Daoist’s strangeness — how did you perceive it?”

What had this child studied in the manor? How could a mere girl know of such uncanny matters? She was so young.

Cui Shi’s eyes never left Lang Jiuchuan. The more she looked, the less she could fathom. It felt as if the girl were right before her, yet at the same time distant beyond reach. This gave her unease, even fear.

Lang Jiuchuan countered, “More than this, should we not pursue who commanded him? The one behind the curtain seeks the ruin of the Langs!”

Lang Zhengping’s face was grave. “Men have been sent. Yet should this scheme fail, will not that hidden hand contrive another? Such shadowy plots are harder to guard against than open arrows. What think you?”

His words held a note of testing.

Lang Jiuchuan gave a wry smile. “I am but a village girl raised in the countryside, with little proper teaching, and no skill to boast of. To ask me this — surely, you jest.”

Lang Zhengping: “…”

He cast a glance at Cui Shi, who sat staring fixedly at Lang Jiuchuan, eyes unblinking. He thought a moment, lifted his teacup, and used the lid to brush away the foam.

Whoever sowed the karma, must reap it!

Cui Shi studied Lang Jiuchuan closely, her brows, her expressions. A daze swept over her — this defiant, insolent look, she had once seen upon another face. The father of her child.

When they first met, he had teased her deliberately, wearing just such a maddening expression.

The memory struck, and cold sweat dampened Cui Shi’s back. Her nails dug deep into her palms, pain shocking her awake.

Impossible.

Cui Shi’s face returned to the cold, thin mask of a widow. She turned to Lang Zhengping. “She is right. Only a little girl, with narrow knowledge. Elder Brother, do not waste your time.”

Cough.

Lang Zhengping choked on his tea, coughing.

Fan Shi cast him a reproachful glance, handing him a handkerchief.

Lang Zhengping wiped his mouth, his expression weary as he looked at Cui Shi. She sat stern-faced, in no mood for jest, nor for defending anyone. She spoke only truth.

Mother and daughter — must they truly estrange themselves to such a degree?

Cui Shi, as though blind to Lang Zhengping’s look, said, “First, we must uncover who sent this Daoist against the Langs. I shall also write to Madam Gong, the principal wife of the Gong family, seeking her aid.”

Lang Zhengping was startled. Sitting upright, he asked, “The Gong family? Do you mean the one famed for a Daoist root?”

Cui Shi nodded. “Madam Gong and I were sworn sisters in childhood.”

“Excellent!” Lang Zhengping clapped his hands, joy lighting his face. “If we can enlist the Gong family’s support, then the Langs need fear no vile schemes.”

Cui Shi said nothing, only cast a glance at Lang Jiuchuan. Within her sleeves, her fingers curled tightly.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes half narrowed. The Gong family, with a Daoist root?

(End of Chapter)