The room was a pressure cooker of despair.
Jiang Dao stepped inside to find the entire core of the Jiang family already assembled, caught in a scene of utter chaos. His five useless younger brothers stood awkwardly to one side. His eight younger sisters, their faces ghost-white with terror, were huddled together. And then there were his father's eight concubines—his Second Mother, Third Mother, all the way down to his Ninth.
Tears had carved clean paths through the makeup on their faces. Several were on their knees, clawing at his father's robes, their hair a tangled mess as they pleaded.
"Master, I'm begging you, don't leave me behind! You've always said I was your favorite!"
"Please, have mercy! Forget me, but take Ruyan! She's only twelve, just a child! Take her with you!"
"Qiao'er, for heaven's sake, beg your father! Make him take you!"
"Don't do this to us! Ruxue is your daughter too, your own flesh and blood!"
The air was thick with their wails. His sisters weren't much better, silently wiping away tears as they stared at their father, their eyes wide with panic.
Jiang Dalong's own eyes were bloodshot. He seemed unable to meet his daughters' desperate gazes. With a sudden, violent movement, he kicked one of the concubines away. "Enough!" he roared, his voice cracking. "Stop this damn crying!"
"Father." Jiang Dao's voice cut through the noise as he stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "What's going on?"
The moment they saw him, the concubines' desperation found a new target. His Second Mother, Liu Hongyan, scrambled across the floor toward him. "Dao'er! You're here! Talk to your father, please! Make him take your sister—you've always doted on her, you know you have!"
The others followed, crawling toward him, their pleas a rising tide of anguish.
"Big Brother…" his sisters whimpered, their voices thick with tears.
Seeing his eldest son, Jiang Dalong, seemed to collapse inward. He slumped into a nearby chair, looking as though he'd aged a decade in a single breath. He reached for his teacup, but the cup was bone dry. Setting it down with a clatter, he looked at Jiang Dao, his voice a hollow rasp.
"Dao'er, I've just come from the magistrate's office. Magistrate Wang has granted the Jiang family a chance to preserve its bloodline. He's given us seven passes to get out of the city."
He took a shaky breath. "I've made a decision. You will take your five brothers and leave. The last pass is for Ruyan. She's the youngest. She's only twelve. The seven of you are to leave Hengzhou tonight. I've prepared five hundred thousand taels of silver. It's all yours."
The words struck the other seven sisters like a physical blow. A fresh wave of sobs erupted as the raw pain of being cast aside by their own father washed over them.
"Master, what about Qiao'er? Give her a chance!"
"Ruxue is your daughter, too! Let her go!"
"How can you be so cruel… so biased?"
A few of the women began crawling back toward Jiang Dalong, their cries turning to shrieks of terror.
"I said, ENOUGH!" he bellowed, slamming his fist on the arm of the chair. He looked like a cornered lion. "Do you think I want this? I gave him seven hundred thousand taels! Seven hundred thousand for seven miserable spots! What else was I supposed to do? Bleed the entire family dry for nothing?"
Jiang Dao's brow tightened. The price was obscene. The magistrate had extorted a fortune from them for the lives of only seven people. If he was already taking the bribe, why not just look the other way? What did a few more people matter?
Unless… was the imperial court involved in this "evil spirit" incident? Was Magistrate Wang under so much pressure that seven spots were the absolute limit of the risk he was willing to take?
"Dao'er," his father continued, his voice now frail and old, "the silver is ready. Once you're out of the city, you watch over your brothers. The days of lavish spending are over. Your duty is to see them all married, to ensure the Jiang family name doesn't die with this city."
"Father, don't be so grim," Jiang Dao said, shaking his head. "It hasn't come to that yet."
"You don't understand," Jiang Dalong said with a bitter laugh. "The magistrate told me things—secrets. Heaven itself is determined to wipe Hengzhou from the map. This disaster won't end until thousands are dead. Anyone who is marked by this… this thing… has no hope. To stay is to die. Do you understand me now?"
"Magistrate Wang knows the details?" Jiang Dao asked, stunned.
"He does." His father sighed, the sound heavy with finality. "I suspect the court has a hand in this. But we're just common folk. Arguing is useless. Take the money and go now, before nightfall. You two," he barked at his other sons, "go get your things!"
"Yes, Father!" they squeaked, and quickly scurried out of the room.
Jiang Dalong's hand rested on a black, cloth-wrapped bundle on the table. He rose unsteadily and handed the heavy package to Jiang Dao. "It's all here. Keep it safe. If you're careful, five hundred thousand taels should last all of you a lifetime."
"Father…" Jiang Dao's own heart felt like a lead weight in his chest.
He had only been in this world, in this body, for three days. He barely knew this man. And yet, in that short time, Jiang Dalong had treated him with nothing but kindness—the genuine affection of a father for his son. It was a debt he felt compelled to repay.
But could he? Could his martial arts, even at his level of mastery, stand against a supernatural evil? Especially one that might be part of a government plot…
He was still lost in thought when his brothers returned. They were packed and ready, carrying small bags and a few valuable weapons. They had six sturdy horses waiting outside. His youngest sister, Ruyan, was too small to ride alone, so she would have to share with him.
Just as they were about to leave, a smooth, mocking voice cut through the tension. "Well, well, Master Jiang. What's all this commotion?"
The Taoist Changbai appeared at the edge of the courtyard, a smug smile plastered on his face. "Don't tell me you're planning on running away?"
A jolt of fear went through Jiang Dalong, but he quickly masked it with a laugh. "Daoist Master, what an idea! Of course not. I'm just sending the boys on an errand. They'll be back shortly."
"An errand?" The Taoist's smile widened. "So many of you? It must be something important. I wonder what it could be. And tell me," he said, sniffing the air theatrically, "do I smell… silver notes? Young Master, that's quite a heavy package you're carrying."
A cold fire ignited in Jiang Dao's gut. This old fraud had pushed them too far. He interfered in everything, and just yesterday, he'd scammed the family out of tens of thousands of taels for absolutely nothing.
"You're mistaken, Daoist Master," Jiang Dalong said, stepping in smoothly. He rushed to the Taoist's side and, with a practiced motion, slipped several more bills from his sleeve into the man's waiting hand. "I was just concerned about the recent attacks. I'm sending them to look at a house in the eastern district, somewhere safer." He forced another smile. "Rest assured, your usual compensation will not be forgotten."
The Taoist Changbai examined the bills, his eyes glinting with greed. "I see. Well, Hangzhou is a dangerous place these days, especially as night falls. Perhaps the young masters would like an escort?" The offer was a thinly veiled threat.
"Thank you for the kind offer," Jiang Dao said, his voice dangerously calm. "But we'll be fine."
He had made up his mind. He would deal with this later. Once he understood the true extent of his own power, he would return and personally crush this parasite. He would make him suffer. It was no exaggeration to say the old charlatan had pocketed nearly a fifth of the Jiang family's wealth.
"Very well," the Taoist chirped, oblivious to the murderous intent directed at him. "In that case, I wish the Young Master a safe journey."
Jiang Dao gave a slight, stiff nod, the coldness in his heart reaching absolute zero. He swung himself onto his horse, then effortlessly reached down and pulled little Ruyan up in front of him. Without another word, he spurred the horse toward the city gates.
His five brothers scrambled to follow.
Jiang Dalong watched them go until they were specks in the distance. He sighed, then gently rubbed the corner of his eye.
"Strange," he murmured to the empty courtyard. "The wind must be kicking up the dust."