Roaring Dragon-Chapter 112: Night Banquet at Qian Palace

That afternoon, a red sun appeared in the western sky.

Li Gongpu, dressed in court robes, stepped into his carriage surrounded by attendants.

Du Mushan, his trusted retainer, kept a vigilant eye on the streets. Once the procession began moving, he leapt up and sat beside Li Gongpu.

"Our informants say the culprit was the ‘Saint of Thieves,’ but their exact identity remains unknown. No traces of fencing the loot have been found either..."

Li Gongpu's study had been completely cleaned out. The loss was so massive it couldn’t even be reported to the authorities—he had no choice but to investigate through private channels.

But just like Zhou Ming’an’s sudden death, the theft at the Li Residence left not a single clue. Everything simply vanished.

For someone like Li Gongpu—who hoarded wealth like his life depended on it—just thinking about all the treasures he’d lovingly stashed away now being fondled by some uncouth brute... it was more unbearable than being cuckolded. His face remained an ugly shade of green.

"Zhou Ming’an was definitely killed by Xie Jinhuan. If he can kill without a trace, he can steal just the same..."

"Huh?"

Du Mushan thought Li Gongpu was letting his rage cloud his mind and quickly interjected:

"Let’s not forget that Xie Jinhuan’s past is full of chivalrous deeds. Even if he did kill Zhou Ming’an last night, how could he have also ransacked your estate?

"He couldn’t have gone from murdering someone at Songhe Bay to breaking into your house without pause.

"This is a capital-level murder of a court official we’re talking about. Even the most ruthless outlaws would go underground afterward. Who’d stick around to calmly sort antiques at your place?"

Li Gongpu knew the situation well. If he accused Xie Jinhuan of killing Zhou Ming’an for revenge, maybe the court would hesitate. But if he claimed Jinhuan looted his house? Every official would probably respond the same way:

"Don’t you damn dare smear him—if the stolen goods were found at Jinhuan’s place, it’d still be you framing him!"

But if not Xie Jinhuan... who else could this “Saint of Thieves” be?

Just as Li Gongpu was pondering this, a mocking voice floated in from the street outside:

"Who’s this with such airs? Oh—turns out it’s Lord Eunuch Li..."

!?

Li Gongpu was officially a Yellow Gate Officer—an actual civil post. "Eunuch Li" was what court officials muttered behind his back. Saying it aloud in public was basically asking to die.

Du Mushan’s face darkened. He opened the window and saw a grand carriage being pulled by four horses, speeding up from Tian Street.

It was surrounded by over ten armored guards in black, with the Dan Prince’s heir personally carrying a banner marked with the character Dan at the front.

Alongside the carriage were several people. The speaker was a monkey-faced steward, and next to him rode a young man in white, elegant and sharp.

Li Gongpu’s brow furrowed at the man’s commanding presence.

"That’s Xie Jinhuan?"

Du Mushan, recognizing the Dan Prince’s household insignia, didn’t dare shout back. He gave orders for their party to yield the road and whispered:

"Looks like it. What should we do?"

Li Gongpu frowned and signaled with his eyes:

"Go deal with him."

"Ah?" Du Mushan froze. "My lord, this is the main street... that’s not really appropriate..."

"You know it’s inappropriate and still ask me?"

Li Gongpu shut the window abruptly—out of sight, out of mind.

—

Clip-clop clip-clop...

The carriages passed by each other.

Xie Jinhuan rode past Li Gongpu’s vehicle without so much as a glance, fully focused on his role as the lady landlady’s personal escort, eyes scanning the surroundings.

Linghu Qingmo had only just woken up and was dressed in a white heziqun, looking like a lily about to bloom. She blinked blankly at the strange scene inside the carriage.

Duoduo was enthusiastically practicing her newly learned “Buddhist tune” on the sanxian.

Princess Changning, dressed in resplendent palace attire, had her arms raised as she danced alongside Meiqiu in the wide carriage space. Her movements had become quite polished after half a day of practice.

Linghu Qingmo had no idea Jinhuan had spent the noon entertaining women for silver, nor had she seen him partying at the Martial Might Pavilion. Watching the bird and the two women now, her mind was a swirl of disbelief:

What in the world? Am I still dreaming? Did my bird pull a tendon? Doesn’t she know those boobs are about to fly off?

This is total anarchy!

At least Brother Jinhuan looks composed. Maybe I should get out of this carriage...

Unable to endure the absurdity, Linghu Qingmo slid open the carriage door slightly and peeked outside.

"Xie Jinhuan?"

He turned his head, and his eyes instantly landed on the wild bounce of a very buxom peacock. Quickly shifting his gaze to Qingmo, he asked:

"What’s wrong?"

Her eyes flicked behind her, as if asking—Is Ling’er possessed or something?

Xie Jinhuan, being the instigator, couldn’t mock her. He responded seriously:

"This is the ‘Butterfly Transformation Step,’ a rare martial dance technique. Looks easy, but it’s secretly very subtle and hard to master."

Martial dance step?

Linghu Qingmo, who had only ever studied Taoist Tiangang Steps, genuinely hadn’t heard of this. She was skeptical.

"You sure?"

"Try it yourself if you don’t believe me."

"..."

Seeing his confidence, Qingmo grew curious. She stood up in the roomy carriage and mimicked Ling’er’s odd hopping motion.

...And it wasn’t that hard after all.

Xie Jinhuan watched her shake, her underclothes swaying magnificently—majestic and delightful.

But being a bodyguard meant it was improper to peek at the young lady from the window. After a few glances, he closed the window with dignity.

Clip-clop clip-clop...

The convoy continued, and as dusk fell, they arrived at the palace gates. Luojing was now a sea of brilliant lanterns.

Inside the carriage, Princess Changning danced with reckless abandon, but once she stepped out, she transformed into a noble, commanding presence—imperial niece in every sense. Petite yet brimming with a towering aura, flanked by deferential officials, she looked like a true empress.

Xie Jinhuan followed her into the palace and gazed at the towering halls with quiet awe.

Although he’d lived in the capital for sixteen years, as the son of a mere county constable, he’d never been allowed inside. This was his first time.

He couldn’t help but marvel—One man living in such a massive palace, with three thousand beauties in the harem waiting for attention... Truly, this is what it means to be a real man.

Still, he didn’t envy the current emperor.

Emperor Zhao Jin had seized the throne during the Jian’an Rebellion. Not the most brilliant strategist, but competent. He had good qualities: open to advice, cared about the people, and had avoided war for twenty years.

But he had his flaws too. He rose through a coup, leaving his foundation unstable. To maintain control, he expanded the Chilin Guard and compromised with the gentry. Most of his reign had been spent cleaning up the mess from his ascension.

And, of course, he wasn’t frugal—building gardens and monuments, holding endless banquets.

There were reasons for the indulgence.

Zhao Jin had no concubines, only Empress He. His only child was born before he took the throne.

Officially, it was out of respect for his wife and to avoid succession strife.

But rumor had it that he’d been severely injured during the rebellion—left sterile. That’s likely the real reason.

If a man couldn’t enjoy women anymore, he had to find other pleasures. So the emperor’s extravagance made sense.

Of course, others spread wild rumors—like Zhao Jin having a thing for men, and Li Gongpu gaining favor by... “hooking” him.

Whether true or not, it was fact that he honored only Empress He.

With the empress’s birthday approaching, the celebration was enormous. The banquet was held at Linde Hall, and not only did imperial relatives attend, but even foreign emissaries had arrived. Thousands gathered across three halls.

As the emperor’s niece, Princess Changning went ahead with Heir Apparent Zhao De to greet the royal couple.

Xie Jinhuan obviously didn’t have clearance to meet the emperor, so he and Linghu Qingmo proceeded toward the banquet area.

Qingmo herself had only been in the palace a few times. To avoid a faux pas, she kept her head down and mouth shut, quietly leading the way.

Halfway there, she spotted a group of men in the corridor outside one of the halls.

At the center was an elderly scholar in blue robes, with a goatee and a gentle demeanor. He was listening to a younger man.

That man was Wei Lu from Snow Eagle Ridge—whom they’d met once before. Beside him stood Zhang Huaiyu from the Imperial Academy, and Deng Tingzhu from the Lunar Palace—well-known young elites.

Seeing familiar faces, Xie Jinhuan slowed and whispered:

"Mo Mo, who’s that old man?"

Linghu Qingmo studied him.

"Looks like Fan Li, the Libationer of ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) the Imperial Academy. First disciple of Dual Sage Ye Ci, senior brother to Mister Mu. Want to say hello?"

Xie Jinhuan had grown up copying Fan Li’s calligraphy. He’d long wanted to meet the man and discuss the Chronicles of Kindred Souls—possibly the key to understanding Ye Hongshang’s past. That book was authored by Ye Ci himself—Fan Li must know something.

Running into him here was perfect. He stepped forward.

"Wei Brother, Zhang Brother."

Wei Lu, still reeling from the swordplay lessons he'd gotten schooled with at the Golden Tower, lit up when he saw Jinhuan.

"Brother Xie, Miss Linghu! You’re here too?"

He turned to the surrounding heirs and nobles.

"This is Brother Xie Jinhuan. No need for me to explain—surely the name alone speaks volumes."

These palace-invited youths weren’t ordinary. Hearing this, they were surprised, though not reverent. Their eyes were full of youthful pride and challenge.

Xie Jinhuan didn’t mind their competitive stares. Seeing Wei Lu reminded him of the “white-bottomed master and senior sister” incident—he felt awkward but didn’t show it.

"Here to broaden my horizons with the Princess. This elder is?"

Zhang Huaiyu introduced him:

"This is my teacher, Fan Li. You must’ve heard of him."

"Oh?"

Xie Jinhuan bowed immediately.

"Fan Master! Forgive the late greeting. I’ve studied your and Sage Ye’s calligraphy since childhood—never imagined I’d meet you in person."

Fan Li had already heard of Xie Jinhuan through Mu Yunling. Stroking his beard, he chuckled:

"You claim to have studied my junior’s sword techniques since childhood—I can believe that. But to say you’ve studied my calligraphy? Aren’t you flattering this old man too much?"

Linghu Qingmo, watching the proud heirs still trying to measure up to her Jinhuan, pulled out his handwritten Jinhuan Sayings from her sleeve and flipped to a page:

"He really did practice your scripts from youth. Even the Prince said it had the ‘muscle of Fan and bones of Ye.’ Please take a look, Master."