Roaring Dragon-Chapter 110: Iron Pot Stew for the Heir

East Market, Yang's Apothecary.

The rain outside drizzled gently like silk threads. A white-robed gentleman stood beneath an umbrella at the apothecary’s entrance, chatting cheerfully with the shop’s owner who had just arrived.

“Master Yang.”

“Apologies for the wait, Sir Xie—rainy day and all. The seller’s been contacted and should arrive shortly. Please, come inside...”

“Good to hear...”

...

At that same time, on the second floor of a fabric shop across the street, Nangong Ye stood by the window wearing her gauze veil, quietly watching the apothecary scene below. Her brows were lightly furrowed.

She’d already been suspicious when she saw Xie Jinhuan show up in the East Market so early this morning. And now, watching him meet with Yang Sichen, she immediately understood who the mysterious buyer of the Sixty-Year Lotus was.

She didn’t know why someone with just third-rank cultivation would need a transcendent-tier treasure like that lotus root, but she was absolutely certain of one thing:

He didn’t have the Reviving Grass.

Because if he did, with his current fame and connections, he could’ve gone straight to the Dan Prince or the Astronomical Bureau, and easily exchanged it for a lotus root from the state treasury. The court wouldn’t refuse. There was no need to risk being robbed by a mysterious seller in a shady private deal.

So what was this guy planning?

Lure her out under false pretenses, charm her with that silver tongue and detox secrets, and then swindle her out of a priceless treasure?

You already told me how to cure the poison!

Her expression turned increasingly odd. She wanted to go over and see what other tricks he had up his sleeve, but... she also feared his damn “flirting techniques.”

If he really pulled off some flowery nonsense and managed to sweet-talk the treasure out of her hands, she’d have no good reason to take it back.

No—better to investigate his character thoroughly first, understand his nature, and then decide whether to continue this deal. He wasn’t going anywhere...

—

By midday, the rain had finally stopped.

Xie Jinhuan walked alone down Zheng’an Street, his brows furrowed, his expression solemn. In one sentence:

The local underground scene was really f*ing rude.**

He’d waited half the morning at Yang’s apothecary. Yang Sichen had said the seller was on the way and invited him to tea.

But not long after, Yang Sichen rushed back and said:

“That senior has already left. Said you’re just third-rank and obviously don’t have the Reviving Grass. If you really want to trade, send your master instead...”

Wasn’t that just blatant discrimination?!

Whether he had it or not, the seller had already come—at least show your face and talk!

What if he actually had the herb? He could’ve just brewed it into tea to spite the seller who didn’t even bother showing up!

He’d just finished robbing Li Gongpu, finally scraped together enough funds for the lotus, and now the deal was off? Ridiculous.

But there was no use getting angry now. He could only ask Yang Sichen to keep asking around for other sellers.

As he walked down the street, he muttered,

“How much time do I have left?”

“Seventeen days and six hours. You still need time to refine the pill and take it. Plus, you’ll want some leeway for unexpected variables. So, at most, ten days for action. Better move fast.”

“Damn, I’ve already sliced each day into eight pieces...”

Brooding over all this, he returned to Zheng’an Street, only to find a line of palace guards now stationed at the Prince’s Mansion entrance.

Seeing them, Xie Jinhuan immediately realized—the landlady had arrived. He quickened his pace through the gate and spotted the monkey-faced Steward Hou, currently using a paper fan to smack Laifu around.

“When the Princess wasn’t here, you were in charge, I let it go. But now that she’s here, you still wanna be in charge? You want her Highness to be a guest in her own house?”

“Yes yes yes, Steward Hou’s the real boss. I’m just a humble errand boy...”

“If you know that, hand over the treasury keys.”

“Huh? Didn’t I give them earlier?”

“Who the hell tidied up the treasury like it’s a museum?! Where’s the silver? Where are the vases and scrolls the Prince left behind?!”

“Uhh...”

...

As soon as Xie Jinhuan saw Steward Hou, a vivid image flashed in his mind: that ungodly hip-wiggling dance and the giant pendulum spin. His gaze darkened and his hand instinctively moved to his weapon hilt.

“Huh? Did I just sense killing intent?”

Steward Hou froze and glanced around, then turned to glare at Laifu and rolled up his sleeves.

“You still got an attitude?! I’ll twist your head clean off—”

“Eh? I didn’t say anything—I’m sorry!”

...

Xie Jinhuan steadied his Dao heart and quickly suppressed his murderous aura. Stepping forward, he asked,

“Steward Hou, Her Highness has arrived?”

Steward Hou turned to see the elegant, poised Xie Jinhuan and stood up straighter.

“Ah, Young Master Xie. Her Highness arrived last night. She’s in the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?”

Xie Jinhuan blinked, confused.

The landlady... cooks?

Could it be—like Wan Yi—she’d prepared lunch just for him?

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that...

With a brief farewell to Steward Hou, he rushed to the mansion’s kitchen courtyard.

Though the autumn drizzle still fell, the courtyard was wreathed in steam. Smoke curled over the walls.

All the mansion’s maids were standing neatly in a line under the eaves, each balancing a bowl on her head, frozen in place as punishment.

In the center of the yard stood a massive iron cauldron, the kind used to scald pigs. Beside it—a pig slaughter bench.

And bound to that bench with five cords, gag in mouth and eyes wide in terror, was none other than Zhao De, heir to the Dan Prince—aka "Danyang’s Little Red Spot."

Dressed in a luxurious peacock-feathered gown, the Princess Changning was squatting next to the cauldron, personally feeding firewood to the growing flames.

Meiqiu, ever the obedient bird, was flapping its wings to stoke the fire even higher.

Yang Dabiao and Liu Qingzhi, pale with fear, stood to the side not daring to intervene. When they saw Xie Jinhuan arrive, they shot desperate, pleading glances at him.

As for Zhao De, he looked like Liu Bei spotting ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Zhao Yun:

Mmmmph mmph!!

Xie Jinhuan was stunned to see the "pig" was Zhao De. He hurried over.

“Your Highness, what is this...?”

Princess Changning tossed another stick into the flames, her usually serene face now etched with fury.

“Killing a pig. What else would I be doing?”

“Uh...”

Xie Jinhuan gently stopped Meiqiu from adding more wind to the fire and tried to mediate.

“Is this about the Changle Street thing? The young master... he’s just entertaining clients in the capital, unavoidable...”

Changning frowned and spoke coldly.

“His antics are the Prince’s problem—I don’t care. But the three thousand taels you won at the Golden Tower for me the other night? He blew all of it. I was planning to split the winnings with you, but now—look at this mess.”

WHAT?!

Xie Jinhuan felt his body shudder. The damn heir even dared to embezzle his cut?!

Now that was crossing the line.

Still, Zhao De had given him some kickbacks. So Xie Jinhuan shoved another stick into the fire and said:

“This is... a bit much. I agree sibling debts should be settled, but maybe don’t actually cook him. How about giving him three days to pay back the losses?”

“Mmph mmph!”

Zhao De nodded furiously.

Changning asked, “And if he can’t?”

“I believe in the young master’s integrity. If he fails, I won’t say a word no matter how Your Highness punishes him.”

Changning, hearing her right-hand man vouch for the brat, chose to show mercy.

“Did you hear that? I’ll spare you—for now. Three days. You don’t repay the silver, you know what happens next.”

“Mmmph!”

Zhao De nodded like a pecking chicken, overflowing with gratitude for Xie Jinhuan.

“The cauldron stays. Once the debt’s paid, it can be taken down.”

“Yes!”

Yang Dabiao and Liu Qingzhi bowed and rushed over to untie him...

—

Later, at the western lakeside pavilion.

Princess Changning sat on the terrace, dishes laid out before her. Duoduo knelt beside the table, plating the food and pouring wine for Xie Jinhuan.

Meiqiu, staring at a small plate of dried fish set just for it, looked utterly mesmerized. Quietly, it scooted closer to the Princess, clearly thinking—A noble bird chooses the finest branch. Why stay under Xie when I can fly high here?

Xie Jinhuan, slightly overwhelmed by the landlady’s hospitality, said humbly,

“You’re too generous, Your Highness. I’m just a rough martial man—some plain food is more than enough.”

Despite being furious earlier, Princess Changning remained gentle with Xie. She curled up on a cushion with her legs folded, resting her round hips on her calves. She picked out some dried fish for Meiqiu first.

“This is just a casual home meal. No need for formalities.”

Duoduo, who had shed her outer robe, now revealing a generous neckline, chimed in:

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re outside. Besides, where are you rough? In poetry and music, you outshine any snobbish scholar.”

“Ahh, you flatter me...”

Xie Jinhuan swallowed down his usual flirty banter—couldn’t go wild in front of the Princess—and simply chuckled, glancing around.

“Where’s Miss Linghu?”

“She didn’t sleep last night. Kind-hearted girl, couldn’t bear to see a pig killed—she’s resting.”

Changning stroked Meiqiu’s head and then looked seriously at Xie Jinhuan.

“Father was furious when he heard about the assassination attempt at the Golden Tower. He’s worried sick. He wanted me to remind you: if you keep investigating the Dark God Cult, be cautious. Only go as far as you can safely manage.”

Duoduo nodded.

“Yeah, I heard a Chilin Guard Centurion is involved. His Highness nearly stormed into the capital to demand justice. The court advisors held him back. Then the young master went and caused a ruckus at the palace, and the Prince—rarely—praised him: ‘For once, that brat did something right.’”

Xie Jinhuan truly felt warmed by the Dan Prince’s care. He thought a moment and said:

“His Highness worries too much. I know my limits. I’ll prioritize survival. As for the Dark God Cult—well, I suspect they’re tied to my father’s death. So I will get to the bottom of it, no matter what.”

The Princess was here on that exact order—to aid in the investigation of the Dark God Cult’s hidden agents.

Of course, the Prince was also playing matchmaker, arranging opportunities for the two to work closely.

Changning understood that—but a marriage wasn’t something to decide hastily. For now, she’d stick to business.

“Searching the streets only turns up small fry. Any real infiltrators will hold high positions.

“Tonight is the Empress’s birthday banquet. Every noble and official will attend. If one of the hidden agents is truly influential, they’ll surely be there.

“You use the Hidden Immortal Sect’s techniques. Can you sense demonic energy?”

Xie Jinhuan blinked—this might really be a lead.

If the cult had infiltrated high-ranking positions, the banquet would be the best chance to identify them.

But the court routinely screened officials. A Dark God Cult agent would either avoid cultivating demonic arts—or hide the evidence with secret techniques. Ordinary detection wouldn’t work.

Could ghost-wife see through that?

Ye Hongshang appeared beside him, resting her head on one hand.

“If they never practiced demonic arts, only their heart leans toward evil, I won’t sense anything.

“But if they’ve masked it with tricks, I can still bait them. For instance—if you yell ‘I sense demonic energy!’ in court, anyone who reacts guiltily will stand out.”

Xie Jinhuan wasn’t sure he’d get a chance to shout in front of the Empress. Still, it was worth a try.

Just then, he remembered—Li Gongpu still hadn’t been dealt with. That bastard would definitely be at the banquet.

He frowned and asked:

“Your Highness, do you think there’s any chance that Li Gongpu... is the cult’s mole?”