Roaring Dragon-Chapter 104: This Crooked Official Must Be Loaded!

Rustle... rustle...

The river breeze whispered through the bamboo groves along the banks.

Gongsun Duan crouched beneath the bamboo leaves, shield and saber in hand, eyes scanning the shifting shadows along the riverbank, awaiting the prey that might arrive at any moment.

He had no way of knowing if Xie Jinhuan would take the bait—or when. Stakeouts like this were dull and exhausting.

After a long time with no movement by the river, Gongsun Duan began to grow uneasy. It had already been two full quarter-hours since Zhou Ming’an had last gone inside, and he still hadn’t shown himself again.

A creeping sense of dread began to gnaw at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he rose and crept toward the perimeter wall. With a light leap, he peered over—

—only to see the study still lit, the door wide open... and from his vantage, a pair of legs dangling motionless in mid-air.

“Tch?!”

His expression twisted instantly. He bolted into the villa.

Inside, Zhou Ming’an hung alone from the ceiling beam, tongue protruding, long dead. A final written confession lay on the desk.

The four elite guards assigned to the ambush gathered at the study’s entrance. Each of their faces showed pure disbelief.

“What the hell just happened?”

“Did anyone see anyone come in? How the hell did Lord Zhou end up dead?”

“Looks like a suicide...”

“Bullshit! Like hell that old bastard would kill himself!”

Gongsun Duan had spoken with him not long ago—no way would such a seasoned, corrupt official silently hang himself.

And they’d been staked out around the entire residence. No one had gone in.

The mission was to trap and kill Xie Jinhuan. And now the bait had been devoured right under their noses—how were they going to explain this?

Gongsun Duan began scouring the room for clues, hoping to salvage something.

But after a thorough sweep, everything still pointed to suicide. One of the guards offered hesitantly:

“Maybe... maybe we plant some evidence? Even if it’s not a suicide...”

Gongsun Duan glared at him.

“We were supposed to catch him red-handed! You even know where Xie Jinhuan is right now? What if he’s being summoned by the Emperor or the Grand Preceptor? If you fake evidence saying he murdered Zhou Ming’an, it’ll be us who get accused of killing him!”

“R-Right... You’re right, sir.”

“Go inform Lord Li. Now.”

——

Meanwhile, inside the city.

Large red lanterns hung outside the gates of the Li estate. Two guards stood watch on either side of the steps, eyes on every passing carriage. Additional guards patrolled the perimeter.

At a nearby restaurant, Xie Jinhuan sat at a corner table, enjoying a late-night feast: poached chicken, fresh fish sashimi, braised camel hoof stew, and a jug of Jiangzhou’s famous Spring Apricot Wine.

After handling Zhou Ming’an, Xie hadn’t bothered with the five ambushers. To avoid drawing attention, he’d simply moved on to his next stop: Li Gongpu.

Having lived in the capital for years, he was quite familiar with “Eunuch Li.” A collateral member of the Hualin Li clan, Li Gongpu had passed the imperial exams in the fourth year of Jian’an and started off as a lowly scribe. But after the upheaval of Jian’an, he seized his chance and rose to favor with Emperor Qian—skyrocketing in status.

There was an old rumor in the capital: “The emperor smacks his lips once, and Li Gongpu already has the dish prepared and waiting outside.”

Exaggeration, perhaps—but the man had mastered the art of imperial flattery. He never waited for an order. He’d act first, then offer to take the blame—even the beatings—without complaint.

Whether it was refurbishing Bu Yun Terrace, managing the imperial gardens, or acquiring the emperor’s favored steeds and scrolls, Li Gongpu handled it all—and never once made the imperial treasury foot the full bill.

He made sure the emperor enjoyed every indulgence while remaining squeaky clean. And /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ so, while Emperor Qian often scolded him with a laugh—“Li Gongpu, you’re killing me with kindness!”—he never actually punished him. The man had already reached second-rank status.

A loyal dog like that? Even if he was greedy, no one truly wanted to kill him unless absolutely necessary.

Li Gongpu understood where his power came from. Though corrupt, he never touched the emperor’s bottom line—and even the court officials found it hard to pin anything on him.

Selling illegal Dengxian Powder? Burying gamblers alive? If the truth ever came out, he’d just sacrifice a nephew and call it “righteous family justice.”

Even framing him required a fall guy—Zhou Ming’an. If Xie hadn’t killed Zhou, Li Gongpu wouldn’t have dared act.

And even if this mess reached the court, what would people accuse Li Gongpu of?

“Why didn’t you let Xie Jinhuan murder a court official?”

But if Xie took him out sneakily, without cause or trial—then that would be a real problem.

Han Jingchuan dead. Zhou Ming’an dead. If Li Gongpu also died suddenly, no matter how flawlessly Xie covered his tracks, he’d be painting a target on his back.

Even if the court followed the principle of “innocent until proven guilty,” killing the emperor’s favorite mutt behind his back would surely arouse suspicion. How would Xie survive in Daqian after that?

No—Li Gongpu couldn’t be assassinated. He had to be beaten at his own game.

Li set the board. Now it was Xie’s turn to play it back—with brains, not blades.

Ye Hongshang, floating across from him, swirled a tiny wine cup and giggled.

“What are you scheming? Got some new bad idea brewing?”

Xie dipped a sashimi slice into vinegar. “Bad? I’m contemplating how to purge corruption and clear the emperor’s inner court. Li Gongpu is... tricky. Never makes big mistakes, constantly screws up in small ways. The emperor adores him. I have to deal with the emperor first—or any move I make will blow back hard.”

“How about planting a straw doll cursed with the emperor’s name? Start a witchcraft scandal?”

Xie considered that.

“Too risky. The Witch Alliance’s capital branch would get purged. And Li Gongpu has no motive. There are too many powerful religious sects in the capital—unless I really curse the emperor, it won’t stick.”

“We need better intel—know their habits, weaknesses. Once Princess Changning arrives tomorrow, I’ll probe her for details.”

As he spoke, he resumed eating.

But before he could finish his first jug of wine, the Li residence gates opened. A group filed out in haste. Leading them was a lean elder with a guard at his side.

From the formation, Xie could tell the old man was Li Gongpu himself.

He shifted slightly to the window’s edge, eating at a relaxed pace while watching from the shadows.

Rattle, rattle...

Soon, Li Gongpu climbed into his carriage, heading toward the outer city. With his third-rank sensory ability, Xie could faintly catch the voices from the carriage as it passed the restaurant.

“That bastard Xie Jinhuan definitely did it! Gongsun Duan, that useless dog, couldn’t even find a shred of evidence?!”

“My lord, calm yourself. Gongsun personally inspected the scene. No anomalies. Zhou Ming’an truly appeared to have taken his own life...”

“Bullshit. If he’s that clueless, summon the Astronomical Bureau or the Chilin Guard to inspect it properly!”

“...Forgive my boldness, my lord, but if Xie Jinhuan can assassinate Zhou Ming’an without a trace—what do you think he could do to you?”

“If he’s that capable, let him come! I refuse to believe in ghosts and bogeymen!”

...

As the carriage disappeared down the road, Xie Jinhuan drained his cup, irritation flashing in his eyes.

“This old bastard... dares to say I won’t touch him? Guess I’ll have to give him something to believe in, or he won’t sleep tonight.”

Ye Hongshang rested her cheeks on her hands, musing playfully.

“How about we chop off a horse’s head and toss it in his bed?”

“No way.”

Xie wasn’t squeamish—but the horse was innocent.

He glanced at the now-quiet Li estate, thoughtfully.

“Li Gongpu’s out. Probably went to Songhe Bay. The house must be nearly empty. And someone like him—he must be sitting on a fortune.”

“?”

Ye Hongshang blinked, then nodded slightly.

“Fair point. Shall we take a peek?”

Xie couldn’t kill Li Gongpu yet—too risky. But looting him? That was fair game.

He still needed over 20,000 taels of silver for herbs. Begging from scattered Daoist friends wouldn’t cut it.

Now here was a walking treasure trove, greedy and infamous, openly insulting him.

If he didn’t at least stroll through the guy’s house and collect a little “interest,” it’d be an insult to Li Gongpu’s tireless efforts to frame him.

With that, Xie lost all interest in food. He paid the bill and crossed the street.

Slipping past guards and patrols, he vaulted over the wall.

——

Under the autumn moon.

The grand mansion was dead silent. A few servants moved about the front residence.

With the master away, most guards were posted near the gates—leaving the inner manor by the lake nearly untouched. Only a single retainer patrolled the corridor.

Xie moved with ghostly precision, weaving past the guards and arriving at the main building. He peered down from the roof.

Ye Hongshang, in solidarity, had swapped into a tight-fitting red outfit with a sheer veil—looking like a sultry spy. After a brief survey, she beckoned with a finger.

Buzz... buzz...

A dragonfly, disturbed from the treetops, flew into the outer garden and landed in the bushes, its wings thrumming noisily.

“Hm?”

The retainer in the pavilion frowned, cocked an ear, then drew his sword and leapt into the garden to investigate.

Xie seized the moment.

He flipped off the eaves and landed before the main entrance. After confirming no traps or guards, he slipped inside.

Click—

With the faintest sound, the door closed. The lakeside courtyard fell silent once more.

Ye Hongshang looked around the lavishly decorated room and raised a brow.

“Oho~ Looks like you’ve got your herb money covered.”

“Really?!”

The room was pitch black, but Xie’s eyes adjusted quickly. What he saw stunned even him.

Forget the screens, paintings, and furniture—the carpet alone was made of Western tribute silk, identical in design and quality to the one in the imperial study.

As for the vases and furnishings—imperial-grade porcelain, all gifted by the Emperor. Even the famed Wuwei Pavilion only had one or two pieces like this. Here, an entire treasure shelf was overflowing.

One glance, and Xie felt like he’d just pulled a jackpot.

But before he indulged, he gave the study a once-over, just in case.

Sadly, Li Gongpu was a loyal hound. Greedy, yes—but clean when it came to betraying the emperor. The room had no real evidence, just stacks of ledgers about palace amusements and royal gifts.

Even if he forged documents, the Chilin Guard and local yamen wouldn’t dare investigate this place—and it would just expose himself.

So Xie tiptoed over to the tea couch, yanked off the embroidered Qilin blanket, bundled it up with practiced ease, and began his treasure hunt.

“Seven-Colored Glass Cups from Dragoncloud Valley? That’s gotta be tens of thousands of taels in embezzled silver...”

“Tut tut~ A prayer bead bracelet made from Bodhi Tree seeds at Tiantai Temple? No wonder he sleeps easy at night...”

“Whoa?! A real calligraphy scroll by Ye Ci? This bastard doesn’t deserve it. I’ll show it more respect.”

“Wait—this painting’s by Demon-Beauty Chen Tong?! A Thousand Miles of Mountains and Rivers, real piece? Mountains look vivid from afar, and the water sings up close... mine now.”

...

Ye Hongshang floated beside him, watching as he expertly packed each treasure—not bothering with silver or jewels, only targeting antiques, paintings, and calligraphy. He even took inkstones and paperweights.

She raised a brow.

“You’re just taking his favorites. Li Gongpu’s gonna die of rage when he gets back.”

“Well, that’s the idea. I wasn’t going to act tonight. But he had to go and say I wouldn’t dare.”

After stripping the walls bare, Xie emptied the display shelves. He didn’t just take the most valuable—he took what Li Gongpu touched, admired, and placed front and center. Sentimental theft.

Didn’t matter if they could be resold.

What mattered was that he no longer had them.

Some of the larger items couldn’t be carried out, which filled Xie with regret.

If only I had a spatial ring... I’d take the damn carpet too and really blow his mind.

Once he was sure the main house was stripped clean, he shouldered a bundle weighing over a hundred jin. After a final sweep—and a double-check from his ghost-wife to ensure no traces remained—he slipped quietly into the night...