Roaring Dragon-Chapter 103: Suicide Out of Guilt

Outside the city, at Songhe Bay.

Songhe Bay sat along the Luo River and was a popular summer retreat for the city’s elite. The area housed over a thousand villas. As autumn deepened, most had already left, leaving it quiet and sparsely populated.

Zhou Ming’an, though only a Deputy Minister at the Court of Judicial Review, had a modest two-compound villa tucked in a remote corner of Songhe Bay. Surrounded by bamboo groves, the setting was quite elegant.

As the sun dipped westward, Zhou Ming’an paced anxiously back and forth in his study, arms behind his back and expression uneasy.

“Mister Gongsun, please don’t underestimate him. Xie Jinhuan may be young, but his strength is no joke. He might even be holding a named weapon or hidden treasure...”

Five men were seated in the modest room—agents sent by Li Gongpu.

Because the goal was to capture an outlaw who attempted to assassinate a court official, these weren’t common thugs.

Leading them was Gongsun Duan, a drillmaster of the Imperial Guard, already at second rank in cultivation. He was accompanied by four elite guards equipped with gear like Qi-Breaking Bows and Immortal-Binding Ropes.

Gongsun Duan had prepared a cover story for later scrutiny: he was resting at this villa when he heard suspicious movement from the Zhou household and came to investigate—only to catch the traitor Xie Jinhuan in the act of attacking a court official.

Such an airtight setup meant that if Xie Jinhuan dared show up, he wouldn’t leave Songhe Bay alive. The narrative would even sound righteous enough to escape scrutiny.

Of course, this required one thing: Zhou Ming’an had to actually be attacked. Only then could they come out and “save” him.

Otherwise, if Xie claimed he was just there to investigate a case, the Dan Prince behind him made any direct action a political nightmare.

Seeing the “bait” so nervous, Gongsun Duan took a sip of tea and tried to reassure him.

“With his skill, Xie Jinhuan won’t even make it past the bamboo grove, let alone into your study. Don’t overthink it. The real concern is that he doesn’t show up, and we waste our time.”

Zhou Ming’an sighed. “He has the case file now. I gave him a perfect opportunity for revenge. If he has any intentions at all, he’ll come—within the next two days.”

“Then we’re good.”

Gongsun Duan stood and picked up his saber and shield.

“Just act normal, my lord. Walk around the courtyard if you can—that’ll help Xie Jinhuan confirm your presence. We’ll be hidden nearby. Any movement, we’ll be there in an instant.”

Zhou Ming’an didn’t feel great about the five of them leaving, but he also knew Xie wasn’t a fool. If he spotted five guards hiding in the room, he’d never come in. So, Zhou said nothing and wandered the compound pretending to be a convalescing official...

——

Nightfall.

The banks of the Luo River shimmered with distant lights. Numerous villas were nestled discreetly within gardens and groves.

Wearing a straw hat and posing as a wandering martial artist, Xie Jinhuan moved silently through the dim woods, observing the river-facing villa hidden among bamboo.

It was a small two-compound residence, but the surrounding grove gave it excellent privacy. From the treetops, he could only faintly see two servants washing a horse on the side. Some lanterns glowed faintly within. A shadowy figure stood alone on the riverside terrace, gazing out over the water.

To guard against hidden defenders, Xie Jinhuan scouted the perimeter carefully. After a long survey, he pointed to a slightly bulging patch beneath withered bamboo leaves.

“Is that a person?”

Ye Hongshang floated beside him and nodded lightly.

“Good eye. But it’s not just one—it’s five. All martial artists. One of them’s probably second rank.”

“Is that so...”

Seeing that powerful enemies surrounded the villa, Xie Jinhuan naturally furrowed his brow.

He’d only gotten the case file from the magistrate that morning and suspected Zhou Ming’an. Now, by evening, Zhou had already set up this “invitation into the trap”?

This was an ambush—plain and simple.

Someone that swift and decisive had to be removed immediately.

Ye Hongshang squatted nearby, watching his expression and murmured:

“Five guys got you spooked?”

“Of course not. But it’s supposed to be an assassination. If I fight them head-on and it turns into a brawl, it’ll be hard to clean up afterward.”

As he spoke, Xie continued surveying the area. He took out the Huanglin Seal, using its light-reflecting abilities to help him identify enemy positions.

But Ye Hongshang found that a bit insulting.

So she decided to “help.”

Suddenly, a phantasm appeared in front of Xie Jinhuan.

This one was different. The scenery didn’t change—only the shadows did. Deeper within the bamboo forest, five glowing red figures appeared.

They lay motionless on the ground. Their faces and clothing were indistinct, but their body outlines were clear.

A ghost-brand thermal vision overlay!

Xie blinked, then put away the now-redundant Huanglin Seal. With their positions and lines of sight now mapped, he slipped around to the side of the villa and scaled the wall—

——

The silver moon hung high.

Zhou Ming’an stood on the riverside terrace, wearing his scholar’s robe. After a moment of uneventful gazing, he returned to his study. He posed before a wall painting, admiring it as if pondering art.

It was a show for Xie Jinhuan, should he be lurking in the shadows—pretending everything was normal.

But Zhou didn’t know Xie Jinhuan had a refined eye for calligraphy and painting as well.

Just as Zhou began his usual appreciation, a voice calmly spoke beside him:

“‘Moon Over the River,’ a reproduction of Ye Ci’s work—the Twin Sage. Unfortunately, it’s a copy. From the brush technique, I’d say it’s by Fan Li, the Grand Libationer of the Imperial Academy. It lacks that upward-slicing sword intent.”

The voice was casual—like an old friend discussing fine art.

Zhou Ming’an, a civil official who enjoyed such matters, would normally have responded eagerly.

But hearing this in his own study, right behind him, was like hearing Xie Bian whisper in your ear.

“...”

His body froze instantly. Before he could speak, something cold pressed against his neck.

The room went utterly still.

Xie Jinhuan stood behind him, the Zhenglun Sword in hand. Confirming the ambushers hadn’t noticed anything, he asked calmly:

“Lord Zhou, do you know who I am?”

Zhou trembled from head to toe. Even his eyelashes quivered. After a long silence, he gave a tiny nod.

“I... I do.”

“Then do you know why I’m here?”

“That affair back then... it wasn’t what I wanted. Li Gongpu—the Yellow Gate Officer—forced my hand. His men are outside. Don’t act rashly, or you’ll fall into his trap...”

Li Gongpu...

Xie Jinhuan already knew the man was scum, but he hadn’t expected him to be involved in the case from three years ago.

Li Gongpu was the emperor’s favored dog. Killing him required caution—it wouldn’t be easy.

Xie thought for a moment and asked:

“Who else took bribes from Han Jingchuan to frame my father?”

“Two bailiffs from the county yamen. Thirty taels each. Claimed your father was drinking. They’ve since been reassigned to another county.”

“My father was attacked at Sanchagang in Weizhou. Were you involved?”

Zhou shook his head quickly. “Han Jingchuan just wanted to dodge punishment. Once the case was closed, he wouldn’t go that far.”

Xie frowned deeply.

From the Golden Tower ambush to Zhou’s testimony—it seemed Li Gongpu and the Cult of the Underworld God were two separate forces.

The demon that attacked three years ago used the Profound Nether Crow technique—clearly a Cult method.

The file said his father had fifteen minutes unaccounted for. The witness was fake. So his father didn’t drink—but his answer had been vague...

Piecing it together, Xie theorized:

On the night of March 5th, the Cult stirred trouble in the palace.

Han Jingchuan, derelict in duty, got Li Gongpu to pin it on Xie Wen.

Xie Wen hadn’t been drinking, but couldn’t explain where he’d been.

The Cult got spooked—worried he’d seen something—and secretly had him eliminated...

Yet his father never mentioned anything related to the palace haunting...

Then again, his old man might’ve kept quiet out of self-preservation.

Xie still couldn’t connect all the dots. He asked Zhou a few more questions, but nothing new came up. He tilted his head.

“Kindly write down every bribe you’ve accepted over the years—names, positions, and how the money was used.”

“Uh...”

Zhou hesitated—and instantly felt the blade press harder. He said nothing more and shuffled to the desk, picked up a brush, and started writing. He kept glancing toward the window.

Xie reminded him:

“They’re wearing Imperial Guard armor. If they storm in now, I’ll say I was investigating an old case with special methods. As long as you’re alive, the Dan Prince will back me. But if you die—they’ll have legal grounds to ‘take care’ of me.”

“...”

Zhou wasn’t stupid. The moment Xie appeared, he knew what Li Gongpu intended—burn the pawn.

So he wrote everything: over twenty officials, thirty-plus cases.

“Since you know it’s a setup,” Zhou pleaded, “don’t act rashly. These officials—you can investigate. I’ll testify.”

Xie wasn’t an idiot either. If he walked out with that list, Zhou would be “assassinated” within the hour. Holding that paper was suicide.

“You wield the power of justice, yet you twisted it for bribes and injustice. Don’t you feel ashamed before the emperor and the people?”

“Ugh... I do regret betraying the court’s trust... and my teachers’ teachings...”

“Write it down.”

Zhou understood—Xie wanted the confession to look sincere. So he scribbled a dramatic repentance: shame before his mentors, a thousand deaths unworthy, and so on.

“Li Gongpu treats you as a disposable pawn. Aren’t you angry?”

“...I am.”

“Write that down too.”

Once Zhou finished writing page after page, Xie finally sheathed his blade.

“All right.”

“...”

Zhou’s nerves were strung tight. He didn’t dare look back. After a moment, unsure if Xie had left, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

Then, his mind went blank. His eyes dulled. Thought stopped.

Tap tap...

Xie stood behind him with the sword, watching as Zhou stumbled forward like a puppet. He raised his head toward the ceiling beam.

Then he walked into the bedroom, picked up a cloth belt, and brought a stool to the beam.

He tied the belt, stood on the stool, and slipped the noose over his neck.

Without hesitation, he kicked the stool away.

Xie caught it lightly with his foot, preventing any noise.

Zhou, shocked awake by the sudden pain, stared in horror and confusion. His legs kicked frantically as he looked down at the straw-hatted man below.

Whoosh...

Xie slowly lifted his hat and stared back.

He didn’t look away until Zhou stopped moving. Then he scanned the room.

Since this wasn’t an official job and he had no landlady this time, he inspected the scene himself—twice. Once personally, once with the ghost-wife.

No loose ends.

Quietly, he left the study...