The Ninth Lady is a rebellious person.

Chapter 6: This heretic, how dare she?
Lang Jiuchuan knelt down in front of the coffin, turned his head to look inside the coffin, and felt the meager merit flowing toward him, nourishing his body and soul, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

Seeing that some of the good fortune was still dispersed among the Lang family, she frowned and stared at the corpse covered with white cloth. If she was also lying inside, would all these merits and good fortune flow only to her?
Just thinking about it makes me happy and I want to grab some.

The pair of dog eyes that Lang Jiuchuan had temporarily inserted almost stared a hole in the old man's coffin.

Hula la.

Suddenly a gust of wind blew in the mourning hall, causing the yellow paper on the ground to flutter and the candlelight to flicker.

Everyone was stunned for a moment. Where did this wind come from?

They subconsciously looked at Lang Jiuchuan. Was she kneeling there, disturbing the old man's rest?

Cui's face looked gloomy and her brows were furrowed.

Lang Jiuchuan sensed the burning gazes falling on him, glanced over, then dragged the incineration basin to himself as if nothing had happened, picked up the yellow paper on the ground and threw it in, saying, "I'll burn some paper for the old man to ensure that he has a smooth journey in the underworld."

After hearing this, everyone's faces lightened up a little. They seemed to be showing some filial piety. But what was the point of having smooth roads everywhere?

Cui closed her eyes and recited scriptures silently.

Suddenly, a loud howl of "old man" was heard at the door, which was deafening.

Someone rushed in with a cane.

"You old bastard, you just have a shorter life than me. We agreed to compete to see who can pee farther when we are 70, but you don't keep your word."

The mourning hall was silent. Lang Jiuchuan's hand trembled slightly as he burned the paper. He raised his head and looked at the person who came, with the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

The man who came was an old man with white hair and a youthful face. He was dressed in a plain robe and holding a cane. He walked to the coffin and choked up when he saw the person inside: "You old man, why are you lying there? Get up and have a drink."

"Grandfather." A young man in a moon-white robe supported the old man helplessly and advised softly: "Please burn some incense for the old marquis first."

"Yes, Uncle Zhao, my father passed away peacefully. Please don't be too sad. If he gets hurt, my father in heaven won't be able to rest in peace." Lang family's eldest son Lang Zhengping, who came in with him, also stepped forward to comfort him. The other members of the Lang family had already stood up, and men like Lang Caimeng and others followed suit to comfort him.

"You don't have to persuade me. My old bones are still strong. He deserves to be wept for." Old Zhao looked at his mortal enemy and old friend whose shroud had been lifted with a sad face. The two had been fighting for a lifetime, and now there was no opponent left.

"Why cry? You will meet soon." A voice as cold as frost and snow broke the sadness.

The buzzing voices of consolation died down, and everyone looked at Lang Jiuchuan in astonishment.

What's wrong with her?

What kind of crazy stuff is she saying? Is this something she can say to an old man who comes to pay his respects?
Lang Zhengping reacted instantly and shouted, "How dare you! What nonsense are you talking about? You are... No, who are you from?"

He looked at the completely unfamiliar girl in front of him and was stunned for a moment. Where did she come from? Is there such a girl in their family?

Lang Caimeng said quickly: "Dad, this is the ninth sister from my second uncle's family."

When Lang Zhengping heard this, he immediately remembered the child who was sent to the manor to be raised, his second brother's only flesh and blood. He subconsciously looked at Cui, opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. He just waved his hand and said, "She looks so weak, don't kneel here, take her downstairs to rest."

Cui's face was as gloomy as water, her fingertips were trembling, and her chest was heaving with anger. She stared at Lang Jiuchuan, this heretic, how dare she?
(End of this chapter)