Chapter 5: Unwelcome

 Chapter 5: Unwelcome

The Lang family thought: after being “banished” outside for more than ten years, now that she’s back, shouldn’t she be cautious, tail between her legs, and behave humbly?

But this Ninth Miss of theirs — why was she all bristles like a hedgehog, lashing out at anyone, regardless of who they were?

First she lashed out at a maid, then slighted the entire family, and then she even went after a cousin. How dare she? Where did she get the courage?

Was it simply because she was Second Branch’s only child?

Whatever the reason, the Lang family had a troublemaker on their hands.

Lang Jiuchuan: Yes, I’m the stick, and you all are the dung.

Her eyes slid coldly toward Lang Cailing, who had been silenced earlier under Lang Caimeng’s bloodline authority but still sent daggers of fury at her with her gaze. Lang Jiuchuan’s lips moved soundlessly:

Bite me then!

Lang Cailing caught the shape of those words and clenched her fists tight, glaring daggers in return.

The younger cousins caught this silent sparring and exchanged quick looks before glancing at Lang Jiuchuan again.

So arrogant… yet also so rustic.

Look at her — plain mourning clothes, a pair of ill-fitting black cloth shoes, no accessories at all. Granted, it was the period of heavy mourning, but even so, the girls all had delicate silver ornaments in their hair. And she? Her long black hair was simply braided into one thick plait over her chest, tied off with a ragged strip of black cloth.

The younger Langs looked at her with contempt.

So county bumpkin.

What they didn’t know was that when Lang Jiuchuan had crawled up from that mass grave, her shoes had long been gone. Those black cloth shoes had been stripped from a corpse. As for her hair, she had tied it up however she could.

And she hadn’t even made it back to the Lang family’s manor. As soon as she had emerged from the woods, servants had found her and, without letting her rest, shoved her straight into a carriage to rush back to the capital for the funeral.

Now kneeling on a grass mat, she had no intention of conversing with the Lang clan. She hadn’t even processed all the information she’d just absorbed; instead, she was enduring the pain wracking her organs and the gnawing hunger.

This body was riddled with holes — it needed to be mended, nourished by merit, if the flesh was to heal and the soul was to stabilize. Only then could she search for her missing soul fragments and past.

Right now, she was barely maintaining the illusion of a “normal” Lang Jiuchuan with sorcery. It drained her spirit; one slip and the whole house might die of fright.

She was, in truth, living on borrowed merit.

Once again, she cursed the Judge eighteen generations deep. If she’d had a sound, proper body, would she be suffering like this?

Suddenly, her gaze lifted toward the golden nanmu coffin, her eyes flashing.

Threads of merit and fortune slowly drifted toward her. Thin, faint — but better than nothing.

It was ancestral blessing.

The Lang clan’s Old Master, and their forebears before him, had fought the Xiongnu in the north and protected the people, accumulating boundless merit. Now that blessing flowed faintly even to her, a daughter of the Lang family.

Feeling the nourishment of that merit, she sighed softly.

A pity it was so thin. With more, she could have been far better sustained.

All because the current Lang sons lacked the valor of their forebears; the family was in decline, its fortune dissipating.

Her eyes swept over the cousins at her side with disdain. Useless.

The two younger ones stiffened.

“What was that look?”

“Was she looking down on us?”

This country bumpkin! If not for the solemn occasion — and their elder brother’s presence — they would have confronted her already.

They exchanged a glance. If not a fight, then perhaps a prank?

But just as the thought formed, the doorway darkened, and they quickly pushed it aside.

Second Madam entered.

No matter how much she disliked this daughter, she was still her only child. Who knew whether she might suddenly shield her?

Cui Shi’s steps faltered as she entered. Her gaze brushed briefly over Lang Jiuchuan, then slid away as if nothing had happened. She went to kneel at another spot, keeping a deliberate distance.

Everyone noticed. Eyebrows lifted. After more than ten years, Cui Shi still held the same view. This would be worth watching.

Lang Cailing, who’d just quarreled with Lang Jiuchuan, smirked. So what if she was Second Branch’s only bloodline? She was still unwanted.

Cailing looked toward Lang Jiuchuan, expecting to see disappointment on her face — only to see the girl rise and walk toward the coffin.

Her eyes widened.

What madness was this country bumpkin about to stir up next?

(End of Chapter)