Roaring Dragon-Chapter 131: The Iron Maiden Inn

Ironthorn Ridge.

As dusk fell, the rain only grew heavier. Wandering martial folk traveling from all directions had taken shelter at the Iron Lady Inn on the outer slope of the ridge. The muddy road outside had long since been abandoned by all feet.

The inn itself was old and yellowed. The upper rooms on the second floor let in wind through warped boards, and even the tables, chairs, and walls bore leftover slashes and nicks from blades.

He Can, dressed like a proper jianghu traveler, paced in circles around the table holding a few bird feathers. He muttered “mi mi ma ma~” under his breath, chanting soul-sending spells of the Demonic Sect. Every now and then, he’d toss in a line:

“Zhang Chu, that bastard didn’t die, but you went first. What a shame...”

“But don’t worry, old man. Zhang Chu and I might come keep you company in a few days...”

...

On the table stood a copy of The Erotic Tales of Ancestor Sikong, a treasured volume once owned by Ye Shirong. It had been meant to entertain the wounded, but they fled in such a hurry last night, they only managed to bring this single memento before the place got sealed off by the authorities. Now, it served as a mourning relic.

By the tea table in the room, Zhang Chu sat with a teacup, face heavy with gloom, paying no mind to He Can’s madness. His eyes were fixed on the elderly man beside them.

The old man wore a black cloak. Under the hood, black smoke swirled so thickly that even at arm’s length, his face was obscured. The only thing that identified him was the five-foot-long black banner propped against the wall, embroidered with eight words: “Xuanming Rides the Waves, Cold Abyss Guides the Soul.” 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

As an incense master, Zhang Chu knew the man—an emissary of the Dark God Cult named Kui Yunya. He usually worked behind the scenes, responsible for recruiting and executing cult orders. Most called him Third Master. Zhang Chu had never even met the elusive Second Master above him.

Kui Yunya had been Ye Shirong’s superior. With Ye Shirong’s sudden “martyrdom” yesterday, the leadership fell to him. Watching He Can perform his ritual now, Kui Yunya calmly stated:

“Xie Jinhuan beat the war drums in Linde Hall, triggering his body-tempering killing intent. Ye-lao might’ve been exposed because of it. Second Master personally went to silence him. He got injured, but luckily, Ye-lao was tight-lipped and didn’t betray the cult before dying...”

Zhang Chu had served Ye Shirong for over a decade. Even as a heretic, it was hard not to feel a bit of sorrow.

“There were so many experts in Linde Hall. Even Cao Fo’er, who’s always beside the Emperor, didn’t notice anything strange. How did Xie Jinhuan see through it?”

He Can finished the ritual, tucked the book into his coat, and cut in:

“I told you that guy Xie Jinhuan is bad news. You wouldn’t listen. Now you know why my master could stay hidden for six or seven days. The guy’s got real skills.”

Zhang Chu couldn’t argue.

Kui Yunya gestured for He Can to sit and continued:

“According to rumors in the capital today, Xie Jinhuan was once involved with Empress Dowager Guo of Northern Zhou before she entered the palace. He studied qi-divination under the Augury Sect...”

He Can froze. “For real?! That explains why no one could find dirt on him and why he’s so ridiculously sharp... Wait—Xie Jinhuan’s identity’s been exposed? Did the court arrest him yet?”

Kui Yunya shook his head. “If Great Qian executed loyal officials based on rumors alone, it wouldn’t have lasted this long. The court isn’t concerned yet.”

He Can thought for a moment, then clapped his hands.

“Then we’re screwed. Xie Jinhuan’s definitely going to pin this crap on you lot. He just killed Ye-lao yesterday, and today this slander pops up—if it’s not the Dark God Cult, then who?”

Zhang Chu furrowed his brows, turned his head too.

“Yeah, if not us, then who? Li Gongpu?”

“Possibly.”

Even Kui Yunya couldn’t figure out who had time to cook up this kind of sordid rumor just to mess with Xie Jinhuan.

Still, if Xie Jinhuan was in trouble, they weren’t—that was something.

Kui Yunya didn’t dwell on it and went on:

“Ye Shirong’s room contained several official documents from the Ceremonial Bureau. They looked ordinary on the surface, no flaws, but the content relates to our operation.

“Xie Jinhuan must’ve been inside Ye Shirong’s study. While it’s unlikely he figured everything out from those documents alone, just in case—our timeline has to move up...”

He Can frowned. “Blood Demon Pills lose potency over time. Can’t be stored. But the drug won’t run far, the man can. Why not just have your higher-ups do the job personally? Go to Weizhou or Jingzhou, get it done, then leave. No need to mess with zombie flowers and creepy shit like that...”

Kui Yunya shook his head. “If it were that easy, you think I’d need the reminder? You’re not one of us. If you’ve got cold feet, you can leave.”

He Can glanced at the door and hesitated:

“You lot torture your own just for fun. You sure I won’t get silenced the moment I step outside?”

“No.”

“I’m not stupid. You freaks are easier to read than my master. I bet the moment I walk out that door, I’ll turn into a part of Third Master’s body—young, full of yang energy—ripe for reinforcing Second Master through dual cultivation. Then Third Master’s black fog turns all green and springtime fresh...”

Kui Yunya gave no response to this obvious baiting.

He Can hesitated again, then sat down beside them and raised his cup.

“Don’t worry, Third Master. I may be Taishu Dan’s disciple, but I’m not like him. I’m absolutely loyal. Even if Zhang Chu sells out the Dark God Cult, I never will.”

Zhang Chu muttered back, “Taishu Dan’s disloyal to everyone. You’re loyal to whoever’s in front of you. One’s a traitorous dog, the other’s a fence-sitting weasel.”

He Can wanted to argue, but Kui Yunya suddenly raised a hand.

The room went silent.

Clip-clop... clip-clop...

The sound of horses approached from afar—still a mile off.

Zhang Chu checked the time and felt something was off. No one should be arriving now. He went to the window and peered through the gap in the wall.

The rain was still falling. Outside the slope, darkness blanketed the fields. Seven small black shapes raced up the muddy road.

All seven were cloaked in black. The two horses at the rear carried shielded crossbows—standard yamen gear. The one in front wore a billowing cloak, and beneath it... was that a white robe?

?!

Zhang Chu’s face twisted in horror. Like he’d seen a ghost, he grabbed his blade—

“Run!”

He Can didn’t ask a single thing. He just grabbed his gear and bolted for the door.

Whoosh whoosh—

?

Kui Yunya, still seated with his teacup, blinked as the room suddenly emptied. A bit confused.

But then he sipped his tea, and dark fog surged around him. Without a sound, he drifted out of the room...

—

Clip-clop, clip-clop—

Seven horses thundered through the rain, reaching Ironthorn Ridge by twilight.

Ironthorn Ridge was a small mountain range. Cross it, and you’d reach Hongzhang County. It was the shortcut, but since it was deserted for miles and often plagued by robbers, commoners avoided it—and even jianghu folk rarely passed it at night.

But Xie Jinhuan had no time to waste. Naturally, he chose the backroads. Wearing a raincloak, he led the team in front. Upon seeing the lonely inn outside the slope, he asked:

“Brother Yang, haven’t we been here before? What was it about again?”

“Gugii?”

Meiqiu poked his head out from under the cloak, took one look at the pouring rain, and ducked back in.

Yang Dabiao, walking alongside and holding his official blade, scanned their surroundings. He replied:

“Ji Bei’s nephew got married. We came to drink. I tagged along for the free food. You came too. We stayed a night at the Iron Lady Inn, crossed the ridge the next morning.”

Linghu Qingmo glanced around at the barren, remote terrain and frowned.

“Why not take the main road?”

Liu Qingzhi, serving as her underling on this mission, pointed at his constable uniform.

“If you’re wearing this green hide, it usually means you’ve got decent martial skills, court backing, and no spare cash. Any bandit with a working brain won’t mess with you.”

“Oh.”

Linghu Qingmo nodded, then added:

“Back then, Xie Jinhuan was just ten, right? All pink ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) and pretty. Weren’t you worried someone might snatch him?”

Yang Dabiao waved it off. “You underestimate him, my lady. Jinhuan’s martial skills weren’t great then, but his mouth already worked wonders. First thing he did when we entered was call the innkeeper ‘Big Sister,’ flattered her so much we got a 50% discount and two free dishes—just so he wouldn’t go hungry.”

?

Linghu Qingmo blinked, then glanced at Xie Jinhuan with a strange look.

His ever-present ghost bride also whispered in his ear:

“Oho~ So you’ve been charming older women since you were a child? No wonder you’re such a lady-killer...”

Xie Jinhuan wasn’t embarrassed. He laughed.

“I was just a polite kid. I remember once we reached Hongzhang County, Brother Yang snuck out at midnight and knocked on Uncle Fei’s door asking, ‘Is there a...’”

“Eh?!”

Yang Dabiao flinched and quickly raised his hand.

“Don’t slander me, Jinhuan! I’d never ask that kind of filth while traveling!”

Xie blinked. “Didn’t you ask, ‘Is there a latrine nearby?’”

“?”

Yang Dabiao froze, trying to remember.

“Pfft~...”

“Hahaha...”

The whole squad burst into laughter!

Even Linghu Qingmo couldn’t help herself. Though she quickly straightened up—didn’t want to lose composure in front of subordinates.

Yang Dabiao felt betrayed. He’d walked right into it. No choice now but to laugh along awkwardly.

“Uh... I probably did say that. Jinhuan, your memory’s incredible. I forgot all about it...”

“Heh heh...”

Joking like this, they soon arrived at the Iron Lady Inn.

Inside, the main hall was full of jianghu riffraff—hat-wearing warriors, monks, fortune-tellers, theater troupe members. Near the stairs sat an old man slurping noodles, cloaked, with a row of medicine jars on his belt. A one-zhang radius around him was empty. Obvious lone poison cultist.

The diners had been chatting about jianghu gossip. But when they saw the seven riders outside—three in yamen green, two in armored black, two in plain white robes with martial bearing...

Shit—immortal officers here to inspect?!

The inn fell dead silent. The poison master froze mid-noodle, wondering why a remote dump like this would attract a full inspection team. Was it too much to ask to eat hot noodles in peace?

Xie Jinhuan sensed the awkward tension, scanned the place, and figured he shouldn't escalate.

“Let’s go. We'll stay in town.”

“Hyah—!”

Clip-clop, clip-clop...

Linghu Qingmo, still a disciple in training, hadn’t traveled much. As they left, she leaned down to peek at the front desk to see what the innkeeper looked like. What she saw:

Fists big enough to stand on. Arms wide enough to race horses.

Truly an Iron Lady.

No wonder she gave Brother Jinhuan a discount. His silver tongue was sweet to the core...

...

Their group galloped off, vanishing into the dark mountains.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, another fast rider arrived and stopped outside the inn.

“Whoah—”

Clip-clop...

The inn quieted again. People turned to look. A black-cloaked figure. No visible face. No weapons, only a leather pouch.

Poison cult rat.

Everyone exhaled in relief, returning to their meals.

The old poison master, always isolated, looked at the figure and brightened as if seeing kin.

“Fellow daoist, there’s room here.”

The cloaked figure dismounted, ignored the frightened rabble, and came over. They made the Chi Dragon Seal and rasped:

“Did a group pass through just now?”

The old poison master saw the Chi Dragon Cave signal and quickly returned the Crescent Moon Seal of Missing Moon Manor.

“Left fifteen minutes ago. Seven fierce types in dog hides. You going after a big job?”

“Turning myself in.”

“Oh... fair enough. After that Taishu Dan mess, our line of work ain’t easy anymore...”

...

The cloaked figure said no more. He mounted and sped off.