Roaring Dragon-Chapter 1: Remote Tomb in the Mountains

Northern Danzhou, Zihui Mountain.

Lightning tore across the sky, and raindrops the size of soybeans pelted the worn canvas tent, crackling sharply.

Xie Jinhuan lay on a bedroll, his head foggy, his throat raw as if he'd swallowed a blade. He rasped out hoarsely:

“Dad... Dad~~... Old man?!”

“Where is everyone? Off on duty at the magistrate’s office?”

He called again for the house servants and maids, but no one responded. His mouth parched, he grit his teeth, propped himself up, and groped around for a teapot.

But the moment he stretched out his hand, he froze.

The downpour battered the tent, its fabric shuddering with the force. A single lantern hung at the entrance, casting a dim light over a few scattered bedrolls inside—and a corpse lying just outside the flap.

The body was sprawled near a dead campfire, clothes torn and face caked in blood. An iron mace had pierced clean through the man’s chest and pinned him to the ground.

The mace was silver-white, round-ended with a beast-shaped hilt, and engraved with two characters: "Tiangang."

It was his weapon...

What the hell did I do?!

Xie Jinhuan shot upright, eyes darting around in alarm. Only then did he realize he was inside an unfamiliar tent, deep in a dark, endless forest. In his hand was a sword, and the luxurious bed, sycophantic underlings, and his fine home—all gone without a trace.

What is this place? Was I kidnapped?!

His mind was a mess, but as clarity gradually returned, so did his memories:

Years ago, he'd unexpectedly restarted life—reborn into the capital of the Great Qian Dynasty. His father was the constable of Wanan County, his mother long dead. He was their only child.

A man given a second life couldn’t possibly submit to others. At three, he swore to outcompete the local bumpkins!

But by sixteen, he had nothing to show for it. He’d followed his father on a reassignment to Lingnan, only to encounter a monster on the way...

And that was it.

His last memory was running through the forest, chased by some demon.

The next moment—he was here. And there was a corpse right in front of him.

What happened?

Did I fail to outrun the monster... and reset again?

No way. I just made it to puberty—I haven’t even had a taste of a noblewoman’s sweet and sour!

Realizing something was wrong, Xie ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Jinhuan quickly raised his sword to use it as a mirror, inspecting his reflection by candlelight.

Thankfully, his face hadn’t changed much. He was still himself.

But... he clearly looked more mature. Taller, too.

Could it be... years have already passed?

Frowning in thought, he strained to recall anything recent. He had no idea whether his father was even alive. For now, he turned his attention back to the corpse outside, trying to assess his situation.

Whooshhh...

The pounding rain washed away the blood on the corpse’s face. Though pale and contorted with fear, it wasn’t someone he recognized.

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A pool of blood had spread beneath the body, seeping into the entrance of a nearby cave.

The cave lay beneath a small mound—it looked like a tomb, but the structure had completely collapsed.

Judging by the setup inside the tent, there had been four people camping here for at least three days. His clothes were clean, suggesting he was an outsider.

From what he could piece together, the group were grave robbers digging into a tomb. He must’ve arrived mid-operation, a fight broke out, and the tomb collapsed. Three of them got buried, one Daoist escaped—only to be killed by him at the entrance.

But why did I come here in the first place?

Xie Jinhuan felt like someone waking from a hangover, unable to remember a damn thing. He examined the traces around him, but the power on display didn’t seem like anything he could’ve done.

He’d been striving to win since before he could walk, not just training in martial arts but also dabbling in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, astronomy, geography, etiquette, and physical fitness...

His goal was to become a renaissance man. The result? Mediocrity in everything.

Spreading himself too thin, he’d only barely reached eighth rank in martial arts by sixteen.

His one achievement was keeping up appearances. Thanks to his attention to posture and speech, he grew up handsome, stylish, and charming. Any noblewoman who’d met him had a lasting impression. You could say he was barreling full speed down the path of a modern-day Lao Ai...

But judging by the scene before him, he’d killed that old Daoist with a casual move—barely any effort. His strength now must be a hundred times what it was before.

What the hell, did I fall into Taishang Laojun’s alchemy furnace or something?

Xie Jinhuan could feel a prehistoric force within him, the kind that could take down a mother dragon—and he had no idea where it came from.

With no clues, he started rummaging through the tent.

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He did manage to figure out his current circumstances—but what he discovered scared the hell out of him.

Aside from backpacks and tools, the tent held some documents and a tomb raiding apprentice’s notebook.

According to the notes, it was now the autumn of the eighth year of Jingning. He was nineteen and a half. Three years had passed since his father was reassigned to Lingnan.

He wasn’t even in the desolate southern borderlands anymore. He was in Danzhou—just a hundred or so miles from Jingzhao Prefecture.

As he flipped to the latest entries in the notebook, a few scribbled lines caught his eye:

August 5th:

Master followed dragon veins and found a big tomb behind Zihui Mountain. He thinks it’s the place where “Qi Xia Zhenren” entered life-and-death seclusion. There must be ancient manuals and treasures inside...

August 8th:

Broke ground today. Found the tomb entrance. There’s a Daoist seal that looks like a demon-suppressing talisman. Master says it’s to keep Qi Xia Zhenren from going mad during seclusion...

August 9th:

Had a dream. Met a red-dressed female demon. Big boobs, fat ass—pretty sure she liked me. Sadly, Master slapped me awake. Back to digging...

August 9th, Night:

The tomb gate finally opened. Inside were numerous female burial figures. At the center was a Demon-Suppressing Coffin, and embedded atop it was the "Zhenglun Sword"—a treasure lost to Zihui Mountain for over a century. It's indeed a great relic. We need to find a way to pull it out...

That was the final entry.

“Demon-Suppressing Coffin... red-dressed female demon... Zhenglun Sword...”

Xie Jinhuan had grown up knowing that the Great Qian Dynasty was riddled with monsters, demons, and ghouls. Seeing those terms strung together made his heart skip a beat. He instinctively glanced down at the longsword in his hand.

It was three feet and three inches long, deep black with a hint of green. Etched onto its surface were two characters: "Zhenglun."

Isn’t this the sword from atop that Demon-Suppressing Coffin?!

Xie Jinhuan felt his stomach twist.

If this sword was now in his hand, it could only mean one thing—the group of suicidal tomb raiders had actually pried open the Demon-Suppressing Coffin and released the red-dressed female demon.

He must’ve shown up here for some reason—maybe trying to stop them—but failed and got hurt by the demon, causing his memory loss.

All of this had just happened. If that demon had emerged from the coffin... she might still be nearby.

The thought made his blood run cold. He immediately scanned his surroundings, tense and alert.

Right then—

Sscrrch... ssschhh...

A strange sound echoed from outside the tent. It sounded like something tearing into flesh.

Xie Jinhuan's expression shifted instantly. He raised his sword and pointed it toward the tent's entrance.

CRACK—

Lightning split the sky again, briefly illuminating the camp outside.

The campfire had long gone out under the torrential rain. The charred rabbit they’d roasted was now dragged to the side, and a dark mass crouched over it, pecking away.

The figure was jet-black and furry like a lump of coal, with only two amber eyes glowing faintly under the lightning’s flicker—like ghost-lights hovering in the dark.

Xie Jinhuan squinted. The shadow looked strangely familiar. He called out, cautiously:

“Meiqiu?”

“Gujii?”

The black eagle stopped mid-peck, its whole body stiffening.

Perhaps out of fear of being caught snacking, it quietly nudged the roasted rabbit back into place, then squatted in the rain pretending to be diligently standing watch.

Xie Jinhuan nearly jumped out of his skin. Seeing that ridiculous scene, he almost let out a curse.

The eagle’s name was Meiqiu—"Coalball." He’d bought it for half a guan coin on Bird-and-Flower Street back in the capital. A personal maid in avian form.

The merchant swore it was a “Black-Winged Roc,” a divine beast said to reach a wingspan of a thousand zhang and feed on dragons once fully grown.

After painstaking care and feeding, Xie Jinhuan had successfully raised... a “Black-Winged Fatball”—a foot tall, a foot wide, with a passion for stewed dragon with mushrooms.

At least the sleazy vendor wasn’t that shameless—he hadn’t just dyed a chicken black to fool buyers. Meiqiu did have some spiritual nature. It understood human speech and, as long as food wasn't involved, never told a lie.

Right now, Xie Jinhuan had no time to scold his feathered maid. He approached with his sword raised and asked:

“Did you see a demon?”

“Gu?”

Meiqiu looked around in confusion, eyes blank.

That was enough. Xie Jinhuan could tell—she hadn’t seen anything.

But judging from the tomb raider's journal, that red-dressed demon had very likely emerged.

His memory was still fragmented, his situation uncertain. He didn’t dare stick around.

He quickly yanked the Tiangang Mace out of the corpse’s chest and grabbed the demon-slaying Zhenglun Sword for protection.

“Let’s go. There’s a demon here.”

“Guu~”

Meiqiu, incredibly obedient, scooped up the roasted rabbit from beside the fire and flapped her wings as she hopped along behind him—disappearing into the endless night rain.

As man and bird vanished into the storm, the campsite fell into eerie silence. The oppressive air that had weighed upon the mountain forest slowly began to lift.

As if some invisible presence had also followed Xie Jinhuan... and left the ancient tomb in the deep mountains behind.