Roaring Dragon-Chapter 114: Night Banquet at Qian Palace (3)

Inside the grand hall, music and dancing never ceased. Nobles and dignitaries clinked their cups in constant toasts.

“Master Fan, I offer you a toast.”

“You’re too kind...”

...

Linghu Qingmo, dressed in a white formal gown, sat properly by Xie Jinhuan’s side, her hand pressing down on Meiqiu, who was trying to peck at the Qian Emperor’s dragon robe.

Noticing Xie Jinhuan frowning as if he were deep in thought, Linghu Qingmo leaned in and curiously asked:

“What are you looking at?”

Xie Jinhuan was busy pondering how to deal with Li Gongpu. Hearing her, he picked up his wine cup and nodded toward an official seated in the distance:

“That guy’s not wearing Da Qian court robes. Is he an envoy from Northern Zhou?”

“Yes, Guo Ziyan, maternal uncle to Empress Dowager Guo of Northern Zhou. He’s here for negotiations.”

“Negotiating what?”

Linghu Qingmo raised her cup and clinked it lightly with Xie Jinhuan’s.

“The Four Garrisons of Yunbei. After the Wuist Rebellion, both the north and south suffered heavy losses. Under the mediation of various schools and sects, Northern Zhou ceded the Four Garrisons to Da Qian in exchange for peace.

“Now, after a century of recovery, Northern Zhou is growing restless, claiming the treaty was unfair. They want Yunzhou’s Four Garrisons back.”

The Four Garrisons of Yunzhou bordered Da Qian’s Shanhua Pass. Rugged and defensible, rich in mineral resources, it was a place of immense strategic value. Xie Jinhuan raised a brow.

“A place like that? No way the court would give it up.”

“Exactly.”

Linghu Qingmo subtly used her sleeve to cover her face as she downed her wine in one go, cheeks flushed red.

“No matter what’s said at the table, the real answer lies on the battlefield. According to Ling’er, both empires are strong and prosperous after years of peace, but neither dares make the first move. So now they’re testing each other’s resolve. Whoever backs down first loses face and leverage.”

Xie Jinhuan wasn’t that interested in court politics. He just nodded with a smile. Originally intending to pat Meiqiu, his right hand somehow picked up a small piece of tender dried meat and brought it to Mo Mo’s lips.

“Guji?”

The fat hawk opened its beak only to see the meat bypass it—Xie Jinhuan was feeding Linghu Qingmo. Meiqiu looked up, eyes wide with disbelief!

Linghu Qingmo also froze. Seeing the meat being offered to her, her already flushed face turned scarlet.

“You... What are you doing?”

“Uh...”

Xie Jinhuan had no idea what he was doing either. It was like he was possessed by some ghost!

But there was no backing out now. He had to play it off like a caring gentleman.

“You were coughing... Thought you could use a bite.”

“...”

You’re... strangely sweet sometimes...

But even if I wanted food, did it have to be fed by you?

There are so many people here! What if someone sees?!

Linghu Qingmo assumed Xie Jinhuan was drunk. She nervously tried to push his arm down to avoid attracting attention.

But this stubborn bastard wouldn’t budge. He held firm and pressed the meat closer to her lips.

“You...”

Desperate to avoid being seen, Linghu Qingmo swiftly snatched the piece of meat into her mouth and darted her eyes around, acting like a guilty thief.

Xie Jinhuan sighed with relief, then let out a soft chuckle at her flustered expression...

——

Inside the lavishly decorated palace, wine and laughter mingled in the air.

The Qian Emperor, robed in dragon silk, sat at the head of the hall, scanning the civil and military officials, as well as renowned figures from all across the land. He looked quite pleased—until he spotted his foolish nephew nearby.

Zhao De was seated not far from the crown prince. Taking advantage of the adults chatting about mundane things, he scooted closer and whispered:

“Brother, did you bring any silver? I’ve run out of my monthly allowance from the prince’s estate...”

The crown prince, Zhao Jinghuan, sole heir of the Qian Emperor, had a sterling reputation for both wisdom and virtue. Always courteous, he smiled as his cousin came begging again.

“I’ve got a bit saved. How much do you need? I’ll have someone send it to you tomorrow.”

“Thirty thousand taels.”

“Thirty...?!”

Zhao Jinghuan was the crown prince, not an ATM. He drew a sharp breath and took a moment to respond:

“I only have around eight thousand left total...”

“Eight thousand’s fine. No need to trouble your staff—I'll fetch it myself later.”

“...?”

...

Watching his idiot nephew behave like this, the Qian Emperor felt both amused and annoyed.

Amused because Zhao De clearly had no ambition of seizing the throne—no one in court would ever bet on such a fool. Once Zhao Jinghuan ascended, he wouldn’t have to worry about a rebellious cousin.

But annoyed because Dan Prince, after all, was his own brother. And seeing his nephew turn out like this, the emperor couldn’t help but think: You dare call yourself a Zhao?

Unable to bear the sight any longer, the emperor turned his attention to Princess Changning, seated not far away.

“Ling’er, I heard you brought Xie Jinhuan here tonight?”

Before the emperor and empress, Princess Changning naturally had to remain proper. She nodded with elegance and composure:

“Yes. Father believes he has great potential and wanted me to broaden his horizons.”

The emperor followed her gaze and saw a handsome young man in white robes sitting in a corner of the hall, engaged in conversation and nodding politely.

“I’ve heard much of his talent and character. Didn't expect him to be so dignified in appearance as well. For such a fine talent, merely appointing him to the Guard seems like a waste.”

It was clear the emperor was considering granting Xie Jinhuan an official title for his recent achievements.

Princess Changning was about to respond, but Li Gongpu, seated nearby, quickly jumped in with a polite smile:

“Xie Jinhuan has indeed performed admirably of late. However, the yamen is still investigating the desiccated corpse case. In this minister’s humble view, best to wait until that’s resolved before awarding any honors.”

Old Grand Preceptor He, white-haired and clearly well past his prime, nodded slowly:

“Lord Gongpu makes sense. With that lad’s talent, solving the case shouldn’t take long. If we reward him now, we’ll have no leverage afterward. If he fails, it’d be even more awkward.”

The emperor gave it a thought and said nothing further, soon engaging the Grand Preceptor in casual chat.

Not long after, members of the imperial clan who had entered the capital for the celebration began offering their birthday tributes one by one.

Princess Changning presented a phoenix coronet crafted by Danyang Academy. The craftsmanship left the officials stunned, and Empress He smiled so wide her eyes crinkled.

But just as the atmosphere reached a festive peak, Northern Zhou’s envoy, Guo Ziyan, suddenly spoke up:

“Your esteemed nation is vast and prosperous. Yet all these birthday gifts for the empress are nothing but vulgar gold and silver. Frankly, this seems beneath your nation’s dignity.”

“...”

The grand hall fell silent.

Even Xie Jinhuan, who’d been playing with Mo Mo, lifted his eyes.

There were plenty of foreign envoys present, but those from the Western Regions and Southern Barbarians wouldn’t dare open their mouths.

Northern Zhou, however, rivaled Da Qian in strength and national power. Naturally, Guo Ziyan spoke with bite.

The emperor’s smile faded slightly, but at moments like this, there was no need for him to speak personally.

Minister Zhang of the Rites Ministry responded immediately:

“Her Majesty is frugal and dislikes extravagance. It is said that when Empress Dowager Guo celebrated her birthday, a hundred-zhang pagoda was erected in Yan Capital at the cost of millions in silver. To transport the stone, you demolished thousands of homes and bridges. Such grandeur—our humble Da Qian can’t compete.”

Guo Ziyan’s expression didn’t change. He raised a hand toward the palace’s Cloud-Stepping Terrace.

“Yet His Majesty of Da Qian built a nine-story terrace to gaze at the night sky. That cost was no less than Yan Capital’s pagoda. And now, before ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ the empress, suddenly it’s frugality?”

At these words, the ministers glared angrily but were left speechless. Their gazes turned toward Li Gongpu, who had advised the emperor to build the terrace.

In truth, it wasn’t Li Gongpu’s idea. The emperor had wanted it, and he merely followed through.

But no matter what, Li Gongpu would never dare shift the blame upward. So he forced a smile and replied:

“Such a joyous occasion should not be marred by petty disputes. Since Lord Guo finds our tributes vulgar, why not show us something elegant? Let this Li broaden his horizons.”

Guo Ziyan, as a diplomat, had said all this precisely to flaunt Northern Zhou’s superiority and mock the southerners.

With Li Gongpu’s cue, he scanned the southern ministers and asked:

“Since this is a birthday celebration, the focus should be on ‘blessing.’ Tell me, Master Fan, how do you interpret the word ‘bless’?”

Fan Li stroked his beard with amusement. Being called out, he replied:

“It generally means to offer good wishes. It can also mean ‘to pray to the gods.’ Is Lord Guo planning to summon the spirits here and now to bless Her Majesty?”

Guo Ziyan smiled. “The shamanic traditions are the root of all religions. But ever since the Three Teachings rose, your southern states discarded the legacy of your ancestors.

“According to historical texts, when the Human Sovereign toured the south in ancient times, he encountered the shamanic foremother Zhu Man, whose birthday it was. She performed the Nuo Dance as a birthday blessing.

“A thousand years later, you’ve long forgotten how to worship your ancestors. But fortunately, we of Northern Zhou remember.

“On this auspicious day, I shall offer a performance to let Their Majesties experience the splendor of that ancient moment.”

With that, Guo Ziyan gestured, and the elder seated behind him stood, saluted, and stepped out to prepare.

The gathered nobles and officials all frowned.

Even Xie Jinhuan, seated in a corner, now realized the envoy’s true intent.

If we’re talking tradition, no sect compares to the shamans. They’ve been around since the days when humanity was just scattered tribes, long before writing or Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism.

In the previous dynasty, Da Qian had various sects thriving, and even remnants of shamanism remained.

But after the Wuist Rebellion, shamanism was exiled completely. No one carried on the old ways.

Northern Zhou was different. It remained the stronghold of the shamanic Blessing Rite lineage. The head of the Beiming Sect is also its chief priest.

Guo Ziyan’s move looked like a birthday ritual—but it was a political declaration: Only Northern Zhou holds the true legacy of human civilization.

To counter this, even Lu Wuzhen himself couldn’t do much unless Da Qian could pull out the legendary Human Sovereign Cauldron—a symbol akin to the imperial seal, proving true rulership.

Step, step, step...

After only a short wait, footsteps echoed from outside the grand hall.

Xie Jinhuan raised his eyes.

The elder from earlier now returned in a multi-colored robe adorned with feathered ornaments, wearing a phoenix-faced mask.

Following him were shaman apprentices dressed similarly, carrying drums, gongs, and other ritual instruments.

Linghu Qingmo observed them briefly and offered a quiet explanation:

“The Blessing Rite lineage believes that wearing the mask makes you a god, removing it makes you human. That phoenix mask likely represents Zhu Man, the shamanic Fire Goddess. The Daoists call her the ‘Star Lord of Fire Virtue’—or Suzaku.”

Xie Jinhuan already knew all this, but he nodded thoughtfully to spare Mo Mo any embarrassment.

Once the group took their positions, silence fell over the hall.

The masked ritualist raised both hands toward the heavens.

“Ooooooh~~...”

The chant echoed through the grand hall, tremulous and deep.

Though without lyrics, everyone felt the vast and ancient sorrow it conveyed—a history of humanity struggling across rivers and mountains, suffering for countless generations before earning peace.

Clang—

Shhhhhh—

Apprentices beat bronze gongs and rattled sand bells. The haunting melodies echoed softly.

A strange serenity fell over the hall. Even Zhao De stopped goofing off and began solemnly observing.

Xie Jinhuan felt the unease in his heart being soothed by the ritual’s rhythm. He found himself thinking:

I’ve done all I could. Whatever happens now, so be it...

Even if my ghost-bride turns out to be some demonic monstrosity, so what? At most, my seat moves from the corner to center stage. It’s still the same show.

These thoughts weren’t spells or mind tricks. They arose naturally as his heart calmed. Xie Jinhuan didn’t quite understand the mechanism, but he was surprised.

In the shadows, Ye Hongshang murmured her own evaluation:

“This Blessing Rite lineage has some real skills. That’s probably a ‘Tranquility Chant’—using music to soothe the spirit. If they used drums and cymbals instead, it could arouse bloodlust and courage.

“Your Demon-Taming Cultivation tends to mess with your emotions. Try using this method. It might flush out the Dark God Cult’s moles.”

Xie Jinhuan understood her point—if Northern Zhou could calm people with this music, he could use something like industrial metal or Khornate war chants to do the opposite and blast the hall into chaos, forcing demon cultivators to show their hand.

It could work.

After all, the phrase “rallying cry” comes from drums and dance in battle. The Blessing Rite had specific techniques to stir emotional frenzy—turning soldiers into fearless warriors and boosting combat power.

Demonic cultivators indulge their desires—frenzy, bloodlust, battle-lust, greed. If hit with this kind of emotional amplifying technique, they might lose control and expose themselves.

But wielding such spiritual chants also required proper ritual mastery. As a martial cultivator, he could bang a few drums—but it wouldn’t be immediate or precise.

Luckily, his ghost-bride offered full-service support. Right then and there, she began drafting an Untranquility Chant based on what she’d seen from the phoenix-masked priest.

Xie Jinhuan listened intently. Seeing potential, he crooked a finger and beckoned over Duoduo, who had been waiting near the princess for orders...