Roaring Dragon-Chapter 115: Night Banquet at Qian Palace (4)

“Ooooooh~~~”

Chaka-chaka-chaka~...

The phoenix-masked shaman chanted his invocation in the Linde Hall. The mournful melody tugged at every heart present.

The Qian Emperor had originally just wanted to see what kind of theatrics Northern Zhou would put on—but as the solemn, spirit-calming music reached his ears, his entire body began to relax.

His thoughts drifted—to the fear of his days as a prince, sneaking into the palace with deathsworn bodyguards, the ruthless maneuvering after taking the throne, constantly on guard against veteran ministers and scheming nobles, treading carefully through foreign diplomacy...

I’ve lived this life as if walking on thin ice... and now, it seems I’m nearing the end...

Still, my wife and son are by my side. Though Da Qian faces both internal and external threats, it remains prosperous and full of talent. I’ve left a solid foundation for Jinghuan...

I never did see the world united under one rule—but fate is fate. I have no regrets.

What comes after... will be for the next generation to face.

...

Even the ever-aggravated Li Gongpu began to feel a trace of peace, murmuring to himself:

Out with the old, in with the new...

No matter how sharp Xie Jinhuan’s edge, as long as His Majesty stands tall, what can he do to me...?

...

The civil and military officials in the Linde Hall—none had reached their positions without hardship.

Now all were swept up in that serene atmosphere, faces reflecting different lives, and even after the music faded, a long silence lingered.

Guo Ziyan, who had instigated this scene, knew this would be the effect. After letting the officials reflect for a moment, he spoke first:

“This ancestral birthday song reminds us never to forget where we came from, nor to fear what lies ahead.

“Her Majesty, virtuous and wise, has stood by His Majesty for twenty years, weathering countless storms and hardships. Even now, she remains as steadfast as in the beginning.

“And you, here to celebrate her birthday, could do no better than offer her a pile of gold and jewels? Treating Her Majesty like some common woman? I say, none of you are fit to sit within this Linde Hall.”

The words outright insulted everyone present—though masked in praise for the empress, they were a slap to the officials’ faces.

Empress He had indeed been moved by the song. But she was, after all, Da Qian’s empress. She considered saying she liked jewelry, that the ministers had only been thoughtful—but that would make the whole southern court look like a pack of bumpkins, handing Northern Zhou a win.

The emperor, seeing that no one was willing to speak up, turned to Fan Li, hoping the grand scholar would offer a rebuttal.

At that moment, Duoduo silently stepped behind Princess Changning and whispered in her ear.

The princess, who’d been frowning in silence, suddenly brightened. She glanced toward the corner of the hall, then lifted her chin and spoke loudly:

“Lord Guo’s words are misguided. The Nuo Dance is a shamanic rite used in spirit-invoking rituals. It’s not that Da Qian lacks it—only that with the flourishing of Daoism and Buddhism, ritual offerings have been left to those sects. We don’t use such fringe rites in daily practice.

“His Majesty hosts this banquet to celebrate with joy and festivity. If refined music is desired, we have court musicians. Why would we need Lord Guo to perform?

“And while your piece was elegant, it left the entire Linde Hall in dead silence. Not a single smile. Does Lord Guo not find that ill-suited for a birthday celebration?”

The ministers exchanged awkward glances—there was truth in her words.

But shamanic Nuo rituals were secret arts. Since Da Qian had exiled the shamans, where could they find a musician to compete with one from the Blessing Rite lineage?

Still, Princess Changning was a junior. Even if she said something wrong, the elders could smooth things over. So the court watched and waited.

Guo Ziyan turned to the princess.

“That song was once performed for the Human Sovereign himself. For us to use it in honoring Her Majesty is the highest form of respect. If there was no joy in it, perhaps it's because it did not come from your southern officials—but that says nothing of the music’s merit.

“Since Her Highness claims the empress might enjoy other tunes, why not have your musicians perform a piece? I would be honored to learn from it.”

Princess Changning didn’t say more. She simply gestured toward the corner of the hall.

The court—ministers, scholars, and even figures like Wei Lu and Zhang Huaiyu—knew the princess kept strange and talented people around. They expected Duoduo to emerge and sing something playful.

But to everyone’s astonishment, a dignified young man in white rose from the corner and stepped forward.

“Eh?”

“Is that...”

The hall burst into murmurs.

Wei Lu had heard of Xie Jinhuan’s antics and feared he might dismember a foreign envoy in broad daylight. He tried to stop him—but failed.

Fan Li and Zhang Huaiyu exchanged glances, wondering silently:

Is the princess really about to counter the shamanic rites... with a drum solo?

That might be... a bit too much.

...

Even the Qian Emperor, Li Gongpu, and Prefect Chen Ping were caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Xie Jinhuan, a martial prodigy.

Empress He leaned over and whispered:

“Ling’er, what’s this about...?”

Princess Changning, well aware of how flashy Xie Jinhuan could be, wasn’t worried. She gave her mother a reassuring glance.

Xie Jinhuan approached the front of the hall, bowed to the emperor and empress, then turned to Guo Ziyan.

“Though I am but a martial man, I know a little of music. Today, I humbly offer a piece in honor of Her Majesty’s birthday. I hope the lords present will not laugh.”

“Uh...”

As a diplomat, Guo Ziyan knew full well the happenings in Jingzhao Prefecture. Xie Jinhuan’s name was thunder to the ears.

But he hadn’t expected the kid to be this handsome—and now he was about to perform?

Is this “Jinhuan dances for the banquet, to threaten the envoy”? Trying to scare me off?

It was a strange move—but Guo Ziyan would love nothing more than to die in Da Qian and give Northern Zhou a justification for war. So he stayed composed:

“I did not know Young Master Xie also knew music. May I ask what piece you intend to play?”

Xie Jinhuan had come with one goal: Jinhuan drums for war, to flush out the demons. He intended to use a secret technique to stir emotions and expose Dark God Cult agents.

Still, now that all eyes were on him, he had to say something proper. He swept his gaze across the officials.

“Our Da Qian was founded through martial strength. Our Great Ancestor honored the Human Sovereign as a sacred ruler and built the Human Sovereign Shrine atop Yugeng Mountain.

“In that shrine, ten generals are enshrined. One of them is Yin Lun of the Shang Dynasty—a ritualist known for his war drums and pipa. Do the lords know the tale?”

From behind Guo Ziyan, a Blessing Rite shaman responded:

“Yin Lun was one of the ancestral shamans. Legend says that when the Human Sovereign was besieged at Deer Plains, Yin Lun played the Hymn of Rivers and Mountains, rallying the troops and helping the Sovereign shatter the barbarian forces. The pass was named ‘Shanhua Pass’ in memory. Is Young Master Xie intending to perform that piece to aid His Majesty in vanquishing foes?”

Xie Jinhuan didn’t know Hymn of Rivers and Mountains at all—but thankfully, no one else did either. He replied smoothly:

“After thousands of years, the piece is long lost. But my master once composed a short melody based on the legend...”

The shaman frowned and warned:

“The piece just now was a spirit-invoking rite. If yours is merely a mundane song...”

“If it were, would I need to step forward?”

“...?”

The whole hall fell into stunned silence.

Princess Changning and Linghu Qingmo both lit up, thinking:

He’s so arrogant—but I kind of love it...

Though Linghu Qingmo was also worried he might be overdoing it.

Guo Ziyan, stirred by this cocky tone, raised a hand:

“Please proceed, Young Master Xie.”

All the lords present leaned forward, half doubtful, half curious.

Xie Jinhuan said nothing more. He crooked a finger, and Duoduo and the palace musicians wheeled in a massive war drum.

It was nearly five feet across, made of red-lacquered nanmu, decorated with bronze beast faces. The drumhead was not ordinary hide—but made from the descendant of the mythical Kui Ox. Even the drumsticks were crafted from its leg bones. As it was wheeled in, a low rumble echoed like distant thunder:

Boom... boom... boom...

Xie Jinhuan took the drumsticks—each as thick as a baby’s arm—and stood under the coiling dragon dome. After a breath, internal energy surged. His white robes fluttered, and he raised both arms—

BOOM!

The drum thundered like a lightning strike in a mountain valley!

The entire hall felt it in their chests. Even the wine in their cups rippled.

Grand Preceptor He, dozing in the front row, jolted awake, eyes suddenly sharp as he squinted at the white-clad young man.

Even Xie Jinhuan himself was surprised by the spell-empowered drum. But the rhythm was set—he began striking in rapid succession.

Boom-boom-boom...

The beat intensified—like warhorses galloping, siege drums pounding.

A surge of unexplainable fervor rose from the officials’ very souls. With Xie Jinhuan’s razor-sharp eyes—honed through countless kills—it no longer felt like a drum solo.

It was as if one lone figure stood atop the city walls, staring down ten thousand armored enemies, battle-ready and unshaken, preparing to unleash a storm of arrows and blades!

Even the emperor and the powerful eunuch Cao Fo’er were visibly startled.

The Beiming Sect shaman who had just performed? Absolutely stunned.

Though the style was different, Xie Jinhuan’s technique clearly mimicked their emotional invocation method—he had ripped off their entire system and twisted it to worship a god of war instead of invoking blessings!

Most wouldn’t hear the resemblance. But he had studied this his entire life. There was no way he wouldn’t recognize the stolen craft!

Boom-boom-boom-BOOM—da-da—

The drums echoed like thunder purging evil.

Even the palace guards stationed outside turned their heads, wondering if lightning had struck inside.

As the tempo increased, hearts pounded faster, fists clenched, eyes blazed, and even nobles began nodding along with the rhythm.

Xie Jinhuan didn’t care about the stares. He focused only on executing the technique the ghost-bride had taught him—hammering that drum to stir the crowd!

Music stirs emotion—battle drums even more so. Designed to inspire fearlessness, rage, bloodlust. When infused with Blessing Rite energy, it could suppress rational thought, leaving nothing but forward-charging fury.

Coarse martial types like Wei Lu found themselves instinctively clenching fists, muscles flexing, itching to grab a chair and brawl.

Even Xie Jinhuan himself felt the Untranquility Chant taking hold. If it weren’t for the setting, he’d be whipping his hair around like a metalhead at a death concert.

As for demon cultivators, who embrace desires like slaughter, blood, and lust—the booming war drums were like a luxury sports car rubbing its ass on their faces. How could they not react?

Boom-boom-boom...

As the rhythm reached a fever pitch, gazes sharpened, hearts thudded—and in Xie Jinhuan’s ear, the ghost-bride whispered:

“Push a little harder—someone’s about to crack.”

Xie Jinhuan drew deeper breath, raised both arms like a war god beating heaven’s gates—

BOOOOM—!

The strike split mountains and skies!

Li Gongpu, seated nearby, was already so riled up he wanted to lunge at Xie Jinhuan and bite him. That final smash was like a war trumpet—he almost leapt from his seat.

Grand Preceptor He, squinting serenely a moment earlier, now flinched—cups clinked across the hall.

And then the ghost-bride whispered the result:

“Southeast corner of the hall. Third row. The old man with the goat beard—he’s your hidden demon cultist.”

Xie Jinhuan, facing the emperor, couldn’t turn around. But he pounded on, unleashing every bit of qi—

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM—

But in the end, he was a layman wielding a patchwork technique. Even with a “wax-dripped incantation” approach, it couldn’t fully blast the cultist out of hiding.

The piece came to a close.

The fierce momentum faded—but hearts were still pounding, eyes still alight.

Xie ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) Jinhuan smoothly put away the drumsticks, bowed to the emperor and empress, then turned to the audience—and discreetly glanced toward the target.

An old man in embroidered robes. Nearly seventy. Kind, benevolent face. Head lowered—expression hidden.

Though the ghost-bride had marked him as suspicious, his peripheral status suggested he wasn’t a major player. Probably not a high-ranking Dark God Cult agent...

With that in mind, Xie Jinhuan chose not to alert him. Instead, he looked toward Guo Ziyan:

“What does Lord Guo think?”

“...Hoh.”

Only now did the audience return to their senses, murmurs of shock rising once more.

Even the Qian Emperor, who had just been musing about leaving things to fate, now felt the hot blood of conquest stirring in his chest. He clapped with genuine excitement:

“Excellent! Worthy of reward!”

Clap clap clap—

The officials joined in with nods and approval.

Xie Jinhuan’s musical skill wasn’t refined—but this was war drums. It wasn’t about finesse. It was about momentum, force, and aura!

That battle-lust surging from the drums—the imagery of the Human Sovereign turning defeat into victory through sheer will—it wasn’t something refined technique could replicate.

Had he come from a musical family, they’d simply say he was well-rounded.

But he was a martial cultivator—and he just dropped this in front of the entire court?!

Even Princess Changning, Linghu Qingmo, and Duoduo looked utterly captivated.

Especially Princess Changning—her gaze seemed to say: Oh~ so you’re full of surprises. I thought you only knew brothel tunes. I’m definitely rewarding you later...

As for peer sect talents who had once measured themselves against him—like Wei Lu—they were dumbfounded.

Martial skill? Okay. Lots of folks are gifted.

Investigation skills? Unmatched.

Calligraphy? Competes with Zhang Huaiyu.

Music? He just performed a secret shamanic rite...

If he knows chess, painting, poetry next—what is he, the second coming of Dual Sage Ye?

You trying to kill off every local prodigy by comparison?!