Roaring Dragon-Chapter 54: Mid-Autumn Festival

The fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month—Mid-Autumn Festival.

The sun had barely risen, and already the alleys and markets were bursting with life. From the distant street corners came the rhythmic beat of gongs and drums:

“Dong dong qiang, dong dong qiang...”

Xie Jinhuan sat at the corner lamb shop with Meiqiu perched beside him, just like always—three bowls of broth, three buns. Around them, the local constables were already exhausted and grumbling:

“Zihui Mountain’s demon, the mad corpse at the Hua family, now three red-robed plague gods dead too—what are we, spiders? Even with eight legs, we couldn’t cover this much ground...”

“To hell with plague gods! Used to be so feared, and now they get butchered without even sending word. Could’ve at least scrawled something before dying. Might’ve given us a lead...”

...

Seeing the yamen boys nearly run their legs off actually put Xie Jinhuan at ease.

Sure, killing three Chilin Guards had dumped a heap of pressure on the constables, but he hadn't exactly had a choice.

Zhou He and the rest had already moved to cut off all loose ends—if he hadn’t acted, it would’ve come back to ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) bite him hard. And frankly, just killing those three wasn’t enough.

Han Jingchuan, the commander of the Thousand-Man Unit in Wangjing, had thrown his own father under the carriage to protect himself. He probably already knew his precious son had somehow survived.

Now that three of his men had dropped dead overnight, even if it wasn’t technically Xie’s fault, Han Jingchuan was bound to get suspicious. With the way the Chilin Guard operated, he’d definitely try to wipe the slate clean.

Which meant Han Jingchuan had to die, too.

But the man was hiding out in the capital for now—no chance to make a move. First priority was still getting out of Danyang alive.

As he mulled things over, the soup and buns were still untouched when a few familiar figures showed up at the end of the street.

Leading the group was none other than cold, stunning Mo Mo—Linghu Qingmo—white dress like freshly fallen snow, radiating celestial grace.

On either side of her: the gruff duo, Yang Dabiao and Liu Qingzhi. The two were mid-conversation as they walked:

“Can this crap just stop already? It’s been what, a few days? Zihui Mountain’s monster, Dongcang Street, Sanhe Tower, Fu Dongping, the body pit, buried gamblers, now Chilin Guards? One big case after another! Who knows what nonsense today will bring...”

“Almost all the bodies in the morgue were delivered personally by Brother Xie. Dabiao, you think maybe he’s cursed? Every time he shows up—”

“Nonsense! Zihui Mountain and the Chilin Guards had nothing to do with Jinhuan. If it weren’t for him putting out fires and sniffing around, we’d have no evidence at all... Master Linghu, shall we call for Jinhuan?”

“No need. He drank with Her Highness last night—let him rest today...”

...

Watching from the shop, Xie Jinhuan noted how Mo Mo actually picked up speed passing the mouth of Qingquan Alley—like she was afraid of being seen.

But that sudden acceleration brought her straight in front of the lamb shop.

Mid-mouthful, Meiqiu leapt out the window and landed on her shoulder.

“Guji guji?”

Linghu Qingmo froze mid-step, glanced toward the shop, caught sight of a familiar figure, then looked away like she hadn’t noticed—slipping into her usual icy, untouchable persona.

Yang Dabiao spotted the rotund black hawk and immediately knew the man himself had to be nearby.

“Jinhuan! Just now eating breakfast? The Princess didn’t scold me last night, did she?”

Xie Jinhuan stood, settled the bill, and strolled over to the group.

“Nah. Her Highness just didn’t want me getting caught up in another mess. That’s why she told me to sit this one out.”

Yang Dabiao clapped a meaty hand on his shoulder:

“The Princess is proud and picky—she doesn’t warm up to many people. You’ve got a rare chance here. Make the most of it, brother. Stick close and maybe the two of us will climb the ranks together!”

Liu Qingzhi, noticing something off in his superior, coughed meaningfully.

“Ahem—”

Dabiao paused, then spun around to talk shop with the constables, dragging Liu Qingzhi with him.

?

Linghu Qingmo, now left with Meiqiu on her shoulder, realized her entourage had vanished. She hesitated, then turned back—and promptly walked straight into Xie Jinhuan.

“Good morning, Mo Mo.”

Clearly flustered, Linghu Qingmo took a step back.

“Do you have something to report?”

Xie Jinhuan chuckled.

“I’m not with the yamen. What would I be reporting? You seem troubled though—something on your mind?”

She did sneak out beyond the city yesterday, and didn’t sleep a wink last night. No doubt she was rattled.

But channeling her master’s usual stoicism, she straightened up.

“You’re still young. Scribbling a few things in private is understandable. I won’t take offense. But... Doctor Lin is your confidante. How could you write about me so beautifully, and yet treat her so carelessly?”

Xie Jinhuan had only written all that yesterday to stir the pot. He responded calmly:

“You and I are still just friends. Even in private, I try to be fair—too much praise would be presumptuous, too little would be disrespectful. Lin and I, though, go way back. We joke and tease; she knows not to take it seriously.”

Knows?

I thought she was about to claw my face off...

Linghu Qingmo didn’t buy it one bit, but it at least explained why the love letters looked so different.

She wanted to ask him—Do you like me or not?—but the words refused to come. So she stuffed it down and said:

“Three Chilin Guards died yesterday. Killer used a left-handed blade, highly skilled, and even paid for the tavern damages. Doesn’t seem like a typical outlaw. I’m heading to the docks to see if any expert swordsmen arrived in town recently.

“It’s Mid-Autumn Festival today. You’ll be accompanying the Princess tonight. No need to run around with the yamen.”

Xie Jinhuan couldn’t very well tell her she was wasting her time—he was the killer. He just nodded.

“You’re not going to the Peony Pool tonight?”

Such a big event—of course she’d attend with her girlfriends. After a moment’s hesitation, she replied:

“We’ll see. Official duties come first. I’m off.”

She bolted down the street and vanished.

She’s kind of... cute when she’s flustered.

Xie Jinhuan watched her disappear into the crowd, and Meiqiu flapped politely:

“Guji~”

Later, at the Lin Family Clinic.

Even on Mid-Autumn Festival, Lin Wanyi had changed into a fresh aqua-green ruqun dress. Her jet-black hair was tied up with a jade hairpin, and the delicate gold-rimmed glasses framed a graceful, intellectual face. She looked like a dewy peony in full bloom.

But her elegant eyes were far from pleased. Tea cup in hand, she stared coldly at the golden afternoon light outside, ignoring even Meiqiu’s silly bobbing dance.

Xie Jinhuan sat across from her at the tea table, leisurely pouring tea.

“You agreed it was just a bit of acting. Why’d you take it so seriously?”

Lin Wanyi had been mortified ever since she got home yesterday. She hadn’t slept, and wasn’t about to give Xie Jinhuan a warm welcome now. Without even looking at him, she snapped:

“You said only a few officers would come. How many showed up?!

“Now every time I step outside to buy a damn bun, I hear people whispering about how I ran off to Qingquan Alley to fight for your affections—and lost!

“For a woman, reputation is everything. Who’ll want to marry me now?

“And that stupid line—‘one bowl in the heavens, one aunt on the earth’... Hmph!”

She turned away dramatically, shoulder twitching, cheeks puffed, showing only the back of her head.

Xie Jinhuan hadn’t told her in advance what he was going to write—he just wanted her performance to be genuine. But judging by her reaction, he may have gone a bit too far. Placing the tea in front of her, he said calmly:

“We’re not locals. Once we head back to the capital, who’ll remember this stuff? And that ‘bowl-aunt’ line? That’s called dramatic tension...”

“Oh I get it. Miss Linghu is the lead flower onstage, so she gets the flattery. And I’m the clown, here to be mocked. I’ve seen operas before, you know.”

“You're way too stunning to be cast as a clown.”

Seeing that flattery wasn’t helping, Xie Jinhuan looked around and then leaned in:

“I talked to Princess Changning last night. Asked if I could borrow the Martial Canon. She agreed.”

?

Lin Wanyi’s irritation melted instantly. She adjusted her glasses and turned to him:

“Seriously? Don’t lie to me...”

“Why would I?”

Xie Jinhuan sipped his tea, thoughtful.

“Her Highness is in a position to make that call. As long as I keep her happy, getting access to the canon is no big deal.”

Keep her happy?

Lin Wanyi blinked.

“You didn’t... sleep with the Princess, did you?”

Xie Jinhuan thought of her drunken madness from last night and sighed.

“Not quite. But I sang, I danced, completely ruined my cool image, and played the lapdog all night. All for you—to get you the Martial Canon.”

She was almost touched—he did look genuinely regretful. Without another word, she fetched a soft cushion and took his wrist to check his pulse.

“It’s not like I didn’t pay you. Do you know how much a Dragonblood Pill costs? My house calls are three taels apiece—it’ll take years to save up again...”

Xie Jinhuan quietly admired the beautiful glasses girl across from him.

Then a warmth began to spread in his chest. His mood soared. His lips curled into a dazzling, uncontrollable smile.

?

He tried to suppress it, but the grin kept creeping back.

Is this... falling in love?

No. This feels more like drugs...

Elegant Lin Wanyi noticed his sudden transformation into a beaming sunshine boy and blinked.

Then it hit her too—she kept smiling and couldn’t stop. After two tries, she realized something was wrong. She lifted her cup and sniffed:

“Laughing Powder? Zisu—!”

From downstairs came Lin Zisu’s mischievous cackle.

“Haha! Auntie Bowl, you looked so grumpy—I just wanted to cheer you up! Don’t be mad!”

Then: thud thud thud, and she was gone.

“That damn girl!”

Lin Wanyi tried to scowl, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching upward. Meiqiu stared, dumbfounded, and tried to sneak a sip of the tea himself.

Xie Jinhuan held him back, but couldn’t hide his own grin. Even channeling inner energy didn’t purge the effects.

“This stuff’s intense. No wonder it turned Iron Lord into a giggling idiot.”

Lin Wanyi, clearly a frequent victim, pulled out an antidote from her waist pouch and dropped it in his tea.

“She’s just like you. Gifted beyond belief, but always off doing questionable nonsense. All flair, no focus.”

“Can’t say that. There’s no such thing as a useless technique—only people who don’t know how to use it. This stuff might actually be perfect for treating depression...”

Even as he praised her, Xie Jinhuan had no desire to become “Happy-Go-Lucky Huan.” He downed the antidote tea in one gulp and stood up.

“Gotta go prep for the banquet at Peony Pool tonight. You’re going too, right?”

Lin Wanyi had already begun planning when Zisu said she wanted to go. But now she snorted lightly:

“You’ll be with Her Highness. What difference does it make to you whether I’m there or not?”

“You and Zisu can hang out on the boat. Most of the ladies know you.”

Lin Wanyi knew exactly what kind of gossip circled in those rich girls’ circles and shook her head.

“Ugh, no thanks. That boat of hers? I’ve heard things...”

She trailed off.

Xie Jinhuan blinked.

“Heard what?”

She didn’t dare say it outright. Instead, she took out a small blue pill:

“This clears the mind. If you sense anything weird going on, take it. Better that than waking up drunk with your legs broken by some nobleman.”

Xie Jinhuan knew just how unhinged those young heiresses could get. He chuckled.

“You don’t trust my self-control? I could be tied to a tree with a binding talisman and still—”

“Pfft—!”

Lin Wanyi turned beet red and shoved him out the door.