Roaring Dragon-Chapter 4: Isn’t This Totally Screwed?

Night had fallen. The County Constable's jail.

Dampness and rot hung heavy in the dim cell. The weak torchlight flickering in the distance cast jagged shadows through the bars. The straw pile beside the wall was already blackened with filth, and the chamber pot nearby reeked so badly it could knock someone out. The cracks in the wall were crawling with lice and cockroaches—it was practically a five-star resort for vermin.

Seeing such a familiar scene, Xie Jinhuan felt like he’d come home.

Only difference was, he used to stand outside the bars. Now, he was squatting inside.

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“Brothers, this is all a misunderstanding...”

“Shut up! Move an inch and we’ll kill you!”

Two jailers, nervous as if facing an enemy army, had their busted old gas-powered crossbows trained ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) on the cell. Their arms were already going numb, but they didn’t dare relax for even a second.

Xie Jinhuan’s hands were tied behind his back. He sat obediently in the corner facing the wall, watching lice fight.

He could break out of this kind of restraint in his sleep, but since he’d already accidentally hurt an officer, if he resisted arrest now or escaped, he’d be a real wanted criminal. So he cooperated fully the whole time.

Meiqiu wasn’t tied up, but the fat bird had been raised well—obedient since birth. It was crouched quietly in the opposite corner. Maybe it got hungry after half a day of this and started eyeing whatever it could catch to eat.

“No eating!”

“Grrrk...”

“No talking!”

“Okay.”

...

Who knew how long that standoff lasted before there was finally movement outside the cell.

The two jailers glanced over and saw Yang Dabiao, the County Deputy Constable, striding toward them. They breathed a sigh of relief and lowered their crossbows.

“Lord Yang, this guy kept saying he knows you...”

“Keep aiming!”

Yang Dabiao had been completely stunned by what he saw in the alley earlier.

Even now, he didn’t dare let his guard down. He motioned the jailers to stay alert and approached cautiously to take a closer look.

Xie Jinhuan didn’t want to get shot just for turning his head, so he said calmly, “Brother Yang, it’s me—Xie Jinhuan. Two years ago, when my father was transferred to the Southern Frontier and passed through Danyang, you saw us off for seven or eight li...”

Back in the day, Yang Dabiao had worked in the capital under Xie Wen, the County Constable of Wanan. He knew Xie Jinhuan well.

The only reason he hadn’t just tossed him into the dungeon earlier was because the guy looked familiar—like the son of an old acquaintance. But people change, and with a noble lady injured, he hadn’t dared take the risk during the day.

“Turn your face. Let me see.”

Xie Jinhuan turned his head and gave him an innocent, harmless smile.

“It’s been years, Brother Yang. You’ve really bulked up. That chest of yours looks fierce.”

Yang Dabiao subconsciously puffed up his chest and scrutinized him. Once he confirmed it really was the son of his former superior, his expression relaxed a bit—though he still looked confused.

“Jinhuan, where’ve you been these past few years?”

Xie Jinhuan himself didn’t know. Somehow, he’d ended up with a body full of martial skills, but he couldn’t explain any of it. That was a recipe for misunderstandings, so he just made something up with a smile.

“Studying the arts. Three years ago, my father was on his way to the Southern Frontier when we met a reclusive master on the road. The guy said I had talent and took me up the mountain to train. I only just returned.”

Yang Dabiao looked him up and down through the bars, half believing it.

“Your skills... not something an average person can teach. What sect were you learning from?”

Xie Jinhuan casually bullshitted, “Fengling Valley. They follow the hidden immortal path. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

Yang Dabiao indeed hadn’t, but didn’t press further. Instead, he asked, “So you don’t know what happened to your father?”

That was the whole reason Xie Jinhuan had come—to find out what happened to the old man. Seeing Yang Dabiao’s shift in expression, his smile faded.

“What happened to my father?”

Yang Dabiao fell silent for a moment and sighed.

“Three years ago, Lord Xie was en route to the Southern Frontier. When the party reached Weizhou, they encountered a demon beast. All twenty-plus men traveling with him died in the attack. I thought you were among them... lucky you weren’t.”

Xie Jinhuan’s heart skipped a beat.

But he did remember something about that incident.

The details were hazy, but when the group reached the Sancha checkpoint in Weizhou, the guards suddenly shouted in panic about a demon. He’d looked out the window and seen a shadow flitting through the forest.

He’d sensed something was wrong and tried to escape with his father on horseback, with the monster in hot pursuit.

The rest was a blur.

But based on his best guess, some guards must have died—but he had definitely made it out alive. If he escaped, there was no way his father died there.

After all, he’d been the one riding the horse, carrying his father, who was already over fifty, on his back.

He couldn’t have just gotten tired halfway, kicked the old man off, and fled by himself, right?

Sure, he was a bit of a pervert, but he wasn’t heartless.

Xie Jinhuan stood up and walked to the bars, ignoring the jailers’ anxious reactions.

“Are you sure? Did they find a body?”

Yang Dabiao sighed. “Lord Xie did me a great kindness. I personally asked the commanding officer who handled the case. They only found some chewed-up remains—couldn’t even tell who was who. After seven days of searching, the case was closed as ‘killed in the line of duty.’”

“Who handled the investigation?”

“The victims were court officials, so the Chilin Guard’s Captain Duan Gang went to Weizhou himself. With someone like him on the case, there shouldn’t be any doubt.”

The Chilin Guard was the emperor’s personal secret force—basically like the Eastern Depot or the Embroidered Guards. Captain Duan Gang commanded over a thousand men and was no small figure, even in the capital.

Someone like that wouldn’t leave loose ends.

But Xie Jinhuan had been there with his father. He was still alive. The Chilin Guard hadn’t found that out—wasn’t that a giant red flag?

They’d closed the case far too quickly...

Xie Jinhuan didn’t believe his father was dead. He tensed his arms, and the ropes snapped instantly.

“I need to go back to the capital and investigate this properly.”

The jailers, who had just begun to relax, jumped in shock and raised their crossbows again.

Yang Dabiao also flinched and took a step back.

“Don’t move! You can’t leave yet!”

“Brother Yang, you recognize me now, and you’re still locking me up? This was all a big misunderstanding...”

He suddenly tensed up, lowering his voice.

“That officer I accidentally injured... don’t tell me he didn’t make it? I just brushed him a little...”

The guy had passed out in full armor, and he’s calling it a “light touch”?

Yang Dabiao wanted to roast him so bad—but this wasn’t the time. He looked serious.

“He’s fine. That’s not why you can’t leave.”

Xie Jinhuan frowned, confused.

“Then why?”

Yang Dabiao looked around and leaned in.

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“Lately, Danyang’s been hit by frequent demon attacks. A few murders, serious stuff. We’re investigating. And today, in Dongcang Ward, we found a stash of medicinal ingredients, account books, and one of the killers—clearly hired by the demons. But just as we got there... you wiped them all out.”

“...Huh?!”

Xie Jinhuan blinked and threw up his hands.

“Brother Yang, I wasn’t silencing anyone! I went there to find you. Ran into those bastards, and they tried to kill me first! I was just defending myself. I even left you one alive, didn’t I? Didn’t you interrogate him?”

Yang Dabiao had been busy saving Lord Linghu. Who had time for a few thugs? By the time he got back from the clinic, Chen Yuan had probably already downed his soul tea and crossed into the afterlife.

It was clearly a case of negligence. Yang Dabiao looked a little embarrassed.

“It was chaotic. Couldn’t save him. I believe you, but the higher-ups...”

Xie Jinhuan was speechless.

“Look, this really has nothing to do with me. I just got here at noon. The old ferryman at the dock, the gatekeeper at your constable office—they can vouch for me.”

“I’ve already talked to the gatekeeper. I know you’re not involved. But last night, a blood mist shot up from deep in Zihui Mountain. Masters from the mountain, the Dan Prince’s Pavilion, and the Danyang Academy all sensed it...”

“...”

This was absolutely related to him.

He even knew exactly where that blood aura came from—the tomb he’d woken up in. Some red-dressed demoness probably broke free!

He had no idea why he ended up deep inside Zihui Mountain, but there was no way he could admit that now. He put on a solemn face.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

Yang Dabiao leaned on the bars, his expression full of patriotism and concern.

“That kind of blood aura is definitely demonic. After the Witch Cult uprising, there’s supposedly no more high-level demons in the empire. But this one—some experts say it could be from a ‘super-class demon.’”

“Super-class?!”

“Right. The Prince issued a lockdown. All routes in and out of Danzhou are sealed. Until the source is found, no one is allowed to leave. The counties are doing strict checks—any suspicious person is to be executed just to be safe. Can’t risk the demons coming back and endangering the people...”

“...”

Xie Jinhuan hadn’t expected it to be this serious.

If it were just a minor demon, the court might not mobilize much. But a super-class one? That was national crisis territory.

If they found out he came from the tomb and couldn’t explain it...

Wouldn’t he be totally screwed?

“Brother Yang... you don’t think I’m a demon, do you? Would a demon walk right into jail voluntarily?”

Yang Dabiao patted his shoulder through the bars.

“I’m not saying you’re a demon. But you are involved. Who knows if those demons in Dongcang Ward had anything to do with that blood aura?

“Right now, the situation’s sensitive. You killed all the suspects. What if the higher-ups summon you for questioning?

“Until the case is closed, you have to cooperate with the investigation. No leaving town. I believe you—but they might not.”

Xie Jinhuan sighed in relief when he realized it was just a matter of investigation. He looked around the cell.

“So I have to squat in here for a while?”

Back when he was in the capital, Yang Dabiao had received a lot of help from Xie Jinhuan’s father. That was why he’d seen them off for eight li when they left.

Now locking up the son of an old benefactor felt like betrayal.

“Lord Xie treated me well. I know you were here looking for me and just ran into trouble. I’ll vouch for you and let you out—but you have to stay close and be ready to show up when called. If the higher-ups summon you and I can’t find you...”

Though he was nervous, Xie Jinhuan had nothing to hide. He bowed gratefully.

“Thanks, Brother Yang. I promise—I’ll be there when needed.”

...

Clack.

A while later, Yang Dabiao opened the cell and had the jailers return his weapons. When he picked up the Zhenglun Sword, he eyed it carefully.

“This sword... looks just like those demon-suppressing talisman swords used by the Taoists of Zihui Mountain. You been studying Daoist arts too?”

Xie Jinhuan’s heart skipped, but he stayed calm.

“You know me, Brother Yang. I studied everything growing up—astronomy, geography, music, calligraphy. I’ve dabbled a bit in Daoist arts these last few years.”

“That so?”

Yang Dabiao knew how tough it was to get into the Daoist sects. He looked curious.

“Do a spell for me.”

“...”

Xie Jinhuan took a deep breath, braced himself, and raised his right hand.

Whoosh.

A breeze stirred in the cell, rustling the hay on the floor.

Yang Dabiao felt the surge of energy like a stormy sea—like some divine punishment was coming. He even took half a step back, face tense.

But after a long buildup—crack crack—a couple of pale blue sparks danced in Xie Jinhuan’s palm, then vanished. Nothing else happened.

“...”

The two jailers peeking in from behind were also silent.

Yang Dabiao scratched his head awkwardly.

“Uh... that’s it?”

“Yeah.”

Xie Jinhuan was a real martial artist. Being able to conjure even a spark was thanks to years of random learning. He explained with a straight face.

“That was Palm Lightning. At its peak, it can destroy mountains and boil seas. My current cultivation is still shallow.”

“Oh... good for lighting my dad’s pipe. Keep practicing. Might come in handy someday.”

Yang Dabiao patted his shoulder encouragingly and changed the subject.

“Things at the office are a mess. I can’t keep you company. We’ll catch up when there’s time. Got a place to stay? My wife and kids are noisy, or else...”

“No worries. I’ll find somewhere nearby. Where’s your house, Brother Yang? I’ll stay close for convenience.”

“Qingquan Alley, just around the corner. Xiao Wang, show him the way—”

After chatting, Xie Jinhuan turned to leave, but something felt off. He looked back at the cell.

“Meiqiu?”

“Grrrk?”

Meiqiu had been sleeping. At the sound of his voice, it bounced over and landed on his shoulder.

“Heh~ Been years, and this chubby little bird’s put on another round.”

“Grr-gi!”

...