Roaring Dragon-Chapter 8: A Lonely Man and a Ghostly Lady

Moonlight washed the room in silver. A lone man and a ghostly woman lay side by side on the bed, their eyes meeting.

When Xie Jinhuan turned and suddenly saw a hanging ghost lying beside him, he jolted violently, instantly reaching for a weapon. But when he looked closer, the ghost seemed... familiar. Shocked and angry, he barked:

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Ye Hongshang was curled up on the far side of the bed. She dropped the hanging ghost illusion and propped her cheek on one hand.

“You couldn’t sleep, so I came to help.”

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Xie Jinhuan had been having trouble sleeping... but was lying next to a ghost really going to fix that?

Then again, things were quiet now—much more peaceful than before.

He forced down the pounding of his heart, considered the situation, and eventually lowered his weapon.

“...Who are you really? I’ve read plenty of books. If you were some legendary figure from history, I would’ve heard of you.”

Ye Hongshang twirled a strand of blue-black hair between her fingers as she lay beside him.

“I’ve lost my memory, haven’t I? Maybe too many people died during the Wu Cult Rebellion. I wasn’t a big enough name, so they forgot about me.”

The Wu Cult Rebellion had plunged the world into chaos a century ago. A third of the population vanished, and even the previous dynasty was wiped out. Countless people and demons alike were lost to history.

But anyone important enough to be sealed in a Demon-Suppressing Tomb, buried alive for a hundred years and still able to hop around afterward—was not some nobody.

Every demon to receive that kind of treatment had the kind of kill count that haunted history books.

Xie Jinhuan suspected Ye Hongshang had either given him a fake name or forgot her real one. But he couldn’t prove anything now. So he asked again:

“You really can’t help at all? I’m being hunted across the city. I can’t just walk away. Even advice would help.”

Ye Hongshang produced a red silk fan from who knows where and lazily waved it in front of her chest, striking the pose of an elegant, busty noblewoman.

“All your problems boil down to a lack of power. Your technique’s basic, your foundation could use work. If you find the right elixirs, cleanse your marrow and refine your body, you could hit Third Grade Martial Arts any time. Still won’t be enough to seal the tomb again, but at least you'd stand a chance if the court finds you.”

Elixirs could boost strength—but body-refining medicine was insanely expensive. Anything suitable for someone at Third or Fourth Grade was practically priceless.

Ye Hongshang was a ghost. She definitely didn’t have any.

Xie Jinhuan had no money, either. He asked anyway:

“Can you teach me alchemy?”

Ye Hongshang shook her head. “I forgot how. But that female physician from earlier—the Wu Cult witch—her cultivation technique had issues. Her lungs are being crushed by cold yin energy. If you pressure her a little, maybe help fix her issue, she’d give you a few pills no problem. Might even throw herself into your arms.”

Xie Jinhuan already had enough on his plate. He wasn’t about to go threatening some witch who could curse people with a glance. But mutual aid... maybe that was doable.

“What’s the problem with her technique?”

“Let me see it and I can probably tell. As for the yin energy... She needs a man with strong, blazing yang energy to balance it. With, you know, repeated treatment—spray a hundred times or so, and the cold energy will clear up.”

“...Huh?!”

Xie Jinhuan looked at her in disbelief.

“Spray? A hundred times?! Are you seriously a demoness trying to trick me into defiling a decent girl?!”

Ye Hongshang blinked, confused. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just telling you the method. No one said you had to do it. What if she already has a man? Even a peachwood rod would work—just stab it in a few times and the effect’s the same.”

A peachwood rod?!

Xie Jinhuan didn’t even know where to start with that one. He flopped back onto the pillow.

“Wu Cult witches are no joke. In the end, I might be the one who gets stabbed. Is there any other way to get pills?”

Ye Hongshang blinked innocently, scooting closer and eyeing him up and down.

“With your looks? As a boytoy, you could make a fortune. There are plenty of wealthy ladies nearby. If you don’t mind using that soft skin of yours, a few pills would be easy to trade for.”

Xie Jinhuan was a proud man—he wasn’t about to go selling himself. Seeing that the great demoness only had these sleazy ideas, he stopped responding and quietly began plotting how to reach First Grade as quickly as possible.

His mind drifted. His gaze wandered—accidentally landing on the deep cleavage right in front of him.

Even if it was an illusion, Ye Hongshang’s appearance and proportions were impossibly detailed. She looked completely real.

Her body now appeared normal-sized, not the five-meter monster from the courtyard. But her chest still defied gravity—full, heavy, and slightly spread out...

Ye Hongshang noticed where he was looking. She flipped over, dragged her finger along his cheek, and purred:

“Little hero~ do you want big sis to help you cultivate~?”

“?!”

Xie Jinhuan jumped. But he was already backed into a corner. He gritted his teeth and reached out—grabbing at her arm!

His hand passed straight through.

“...?”

The moment he felt nothing, he lost all interest. He shut his eyes.

“You’re just an illusion. Looks real, but no touch. For all I know, you’re some guy in drag. I’m not falling for it. Just disappear.”

“Who said you can’t touch me?”

Ye Hongshang lifted a delicate finger and stroked his face.

He felt it—soft, warm skin brushing his cheek.

What the hell?!

Xie Jinhuan snapped his eyes open and grabbed again—his hand went right through.

“Heh?”

He reached out a few more times—still nothing. Just one-sided teasing.

“...Fine, fine. You win. Just disappear already. I need to train.”

“Hehe~”

Ye Hongshang giggled like a flower in bloom—and vanished into thin air.

Xie Jinhuan let out a quiet breath. He was about to get up when he noticed Meiqiu cowering in the corner, wings splayed, feathers fluffed, and staring at him in terror.

“...What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Coo?”

Meiqiu wanted to ask him the same thing.

Flailing around on the bed, talking to the air like a madman, shrieking one moment and muttering the next—

Now that Xie Jinhuan seemed normal again, Meiqiu flew over and started frantically flapping its wings at him, like it was trying to exorcise a demon.

Flap flap flap—

——

Elsewhere.

Night deepened. The County Constable Office was still lit up, constables and coroners gathered in the morgue. A nearby room held sealed boxes and account ledgers.

County Constable Yang Ting stood by Chen Yuan’s corpse, bamboo pipe between his lips, watching as coroners dissected the body. His eyes were grim.

“A surprise sword strike from nearly three zhang away pierced the heart and didn’t kill him outright. Then a mace shattered a monk who had mastered Immovable Vajra Meditation. That’s at least Fourth or Fifth Grade martial arts. And he’s barely twenty. You sure he doesn’t have a background?”

Yang Dabiao, who had worked in the capital for nearly three years, knew Xie Jinhuan well and patted his chest in assurance.

“Xie Jinhuan matured early. In the capital, he was always grinding, studying nonstop from dawn to dusk. It’s no surprise he’s this good. He told me he spent the last few years training at Fengling Valley—something about the Hidden Immortal lineage. Ever heard of it, Dad?”

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Yang Ting had spent a lifetime catching crooks and had seen a lot. He puffed on his pipe, thinking.

“There are three main Daoist sects: Alchemy, Divination, and Hidden Immortal. Alchemy thrives in the South. Divination is favored by the North. But Hidden Immortal? They stay out of the world, only emerging in times of great chaos. Last time was during the Wu Cult Rebellion. And now Xie Jinhuan shows up...”

Yang Dabiao scratched his head. “Maybe the empire’s in trouble and the recluses are sending someone down the mountain—”

Whack!

Before he finished, Yang Ting smacked him with his pipe.

“You’re a grown man. Watch your damn mouth. Great Qian is at its height—what 'trouble' are you talking about?!”

Yang Dabiao rubbed his head and pointed to the bodies around them.

“Then what about these...”

“Just ordinary demon bandits. Not some apocalyptic super-monsters.”

“What about that one from Zihui Mountain...”

“If you know it’s a super-monster, why aren’t you out finding it?!”

“I’m barely holding it together! Even if a super demon showed up, I wouldn’t recognize it unless it introduced itself...”

——

As the two spoke, hurried footsteps echoed outside the office, followed by anxious voices.

“Lady Linghu, you really should rest. I haven’t even dared report this to Her Highness yet. If she finds out...”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Yang Dabiao flinched. The living goddess had arrived.

He dropped his fire striker and bolted for the door.

In the courtyard, three guards held lanterns as they jogged behind a woman in white. Vice-chief Liu Qingzhi followed her closely, still trying to dissuade her.

Linghu Qingmo strode ahead with sword in hand. Her armor had been torn up earlier, so now she wore a white robe that fluttered ethereally under the lantern light.

As the direct disciple of Zihui Mountain’s sect master and a close sister-like friend of the Princess of Changning, her status was sky-high. «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» Most constables would consider it an honor just to catch a glimpse of her.

But Linghu Qingmo, a true Daoist, had no prideful airs. She came to the Prince’s estate for real-world experience and insisted on frontline work. She treated the constables as equals, took on the dirtiest tasks, and even volunteered to take the fall for others.

Because of this, the constables called her a living Bodhisattva. Now, seeing her arrive, they rushed forward with warm greetings.

But Linghu Qingmo was cold on the outside despite her righteous heart. She didn’t waste time on small talk. Heading straight into the back office, she spotted Yang Dabiao and got to the point.

“How’s the investigation? Any leads?”

Yang Dabiao had been terrified she might’ve lost a limb. Seeing her whole, he finally relaxed.

“So far, we can confirm the three from Dongcang Ward were tied to recent demon activity, but the mastermind’s been careful—left no traces behind.”

“And that Xie Jinhuan—where is he?”

“Uh...”

Yang Dabiao had been waiting for this and immediately put on a smile.

“It’s all a misunderstanding. He’s the son of Xie Wen, former constable of Wanan County—my dad’s old comrade. We grew up together. He’s a real decent guy. He came by just to visit me. That business with the bandits—must’ve been chaos. He probably didn’t mean to hurt you—”

Linghu Qingmo wasn’t stupid. Anyone who could knock out her—the personal disciple of a Daoist master—with one blow was no ordinary guy.

“He killed three men in seconds, and you’re calling him ‘decent’?”

“Show no mercy to evil. That’s what Xie Daren always taught me...”

“Which cell is he in?”

“Uh...”

She turned to head toward the cells. Yang Dabiao’s awkward smile twisted even more.

“You let him go?! He’s a key witness!”

“I—I didn’t let him go.”

Yang Dabiao hurried to explain. “He’s under house arrest! In the sixth courtyard on Qingquan Alley. Just down the street from me. I swear on my life, he’s no problem. If you want to question him, I’ll bring him here right now—”

Linghu Qingmo already knew most of the case from the medics. Hearing him swear on his life, she relaxed a little.

Still, someone who had knocked her out—she had to at least get a look.

She turned and walked out.

“I’ll go see him myself.”

Yang Dabiao panicked, worried she might give his friend trouble. He rushed after her.

“I’ll guide you, Daren!”

“No need. Focus on solving the case. If you find anything, report immediately.”

“Uh... understood.”

Yang Dabiao stopped in place, watching the living goddess disappear alone into the night.