Roaring Dragon-Chapter 98: Dreamscape

A brilliant moon hung in the sky, and tens of thousands of stars formed constellations above—composing a grand cosmic map across the heavens.

Lin Wanyi snapped back to awareness, startled to find her bedroom had vanished—replaced by starlight and an endless, surrounding abyss of darkness.

She blinked in confusion and looked around, only to realize she was perched atop a narrow stone stele, with nothing but void surrounding her—like she’d been imprisoned in a hellish black prison.

“Eh?”

Full of questions, she glanced over and saw Xie Jinhuan sitting at the other end of the stele, hands forming seals and muttering incantations. She hurried over, waving her hand:

“Xie Jinhuan?”

“Mm?”

Xie Jinhuan opened his eyes and realized he’d somehow fallen into another illusion again.

But since Wanyi didn’t know it was the Ghost Wife’s mischief, he wore a composed expression and explained confidently:

“We’ve successfully entered the dream. It always starts like this.”

“Really?”

Still suspicious, Lin Wanyi lay on her stomach and peered over the edge, trying to figure out where they were.

What she saw was a massive black stele suspended in the abyss.

Far below, her vision caught a vague glimpse of coiled dragon-shaped mountain ranges.

The stele’s side was engraved with ancient, intricate script:

“What does this say?”

Xie Jinhuan leaned in beside her to study it, and with the fragmented knowledge he’d picked up in his youth, offered a rough translation:

“Looks like... ‘South of the Southern Seas, there lies a mountain called Ming... Beneath the mountain, a demon god is sealed... By day, it takes dragon form... By night it wears... wears...’ I can’t read the rest.”

“You made this dream, and you can’t read it?”

“Nothing in dreams can be taken literally. Don’t worry about it.”

Xie Jinhuan figured this was some random backdrop the Ghost Wife tossed in. He glanced around, then looked up at the stars and moon above:

“This, right here, is the Divine Martial Canon.”

“Huh?”

Lin Wanyi looked up as well—and saw that the clouds of stars weren’t randomly scattered. Instead, they formed the shape of a colossal human figure.

The star map used the moon as the dantian (energy center), with countless stars branching out into limbs and meridians. The blinking patterns likely indicated the direction of energy flow.

Seeing this, she sat upright and attempted to circulate her energy as the star map suggested.

But the moment she tried, she realized—it was unworkable.

Just as Princess Changning had warned her, the Divine Martial Canon was a teaching manual. The Martial Ancestor had compiled it by reading through all ancient martial arts, recording every possible energy circulation path and combining them into a unified method.

Because it had to be all-encompassing, the technique was bloated—built from over 36,000 stars. It was impossible to cultivate directly, but anyone who looked at it could gain some insight from its patterns.

Lin Wanyi wasn’t a martial artist and hadn’t even reached third-rank. Looking at it was like trying to read an alien language.

Faced with the impossibility of it all, her pretty face scrunched up bitterly:

“Don’t tell me I need to memorize all these stars?”

Xie Jinhuan, being a martial practitioner himself, could at least make some sense of it. He raised a hand and explained:

“No need. Just treat it like 360 lines. Memorize one at a time. Not too hard.”

Not too hard?

Lin Wanyi wasn’t a martial artist—just memorizing all that might take her half a year.

Still, now that she was here, backing out wasn’t an option. She tilted her neck and began memorizing the star map.

The top of the stele wasn’t spacious, and craning their necks was uncomfortable. Xie Jinhuan laid back and clasped his hands behind his head:

“Just lie down. Staring up like that’ll give you neck cramps.”

Lin Wanyi hesitated, but he was right—it wasn’t comfortable. After some thought, she crossed her arms over her chest and cautiously lay down beside him. Only after confirming he wasn’t pulling anything sneaky did she focus on the stars.

Xie Jinhuan was deeply intrigued by the Divine Martial Canon and kept quiet to let the glasses girl study in peace. Soon, he discovered that the canon should really be called—“360 Ways to Become a Martial God.”

Though outdated for modern times, the method encompassed every conceivable approach. If one had sufficient comprehension, they could derive a unique path of their own.

Xie Jinhuan’s cultivation was still shallow, so he couldn’t practice it yet—but he found something that could apply.

One section on Qi Breathing and Circulation stood out. It used the Five Elements cycle to transform ambient energy, allowing a martial artist to refine balanced energy even in extremely imbalanced environments.

In the Divine Martial Canon, this was just a supplementary technique.

But if applied to his own “inverted candle-pouring” method—it would be incredible!

He normally had to “choose one and abandon four.” But if he modified this method to suit himself, he could split into five, then recombine into one.

That would let him use martial qi to unleash full-powered five-element divine arts!

With Zhenglun Sword and lightning arts, he could easily slay a second-rank with third-rank strength.

The only problem—this canon was extremely advanced. His control over qi wasn’t fine enough yet.

And his body was too fragile. Without nerves tougher than a dragon or meridians smoother than silk, the process of splitting and recombining elements could make him explode ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) on the spot.

Even if he didn’t explode, he’d need to “load” the technique for several minutes—plenty of time to get diced.

Still, despite the problems, the potential was clear.

Lost in thought, Xie Jinhuan dove deeper into constructing the technique, forgetting time and place.

Lin Wanyi, lying beside him, had been nervous at first—but seeing he wasn’t sneaking any gropes, she relaxed.

Then, like someone reading ancient scripture, her eyelids started to droop.

Though Ye Hongshang was a bit flirty, she was reliable. Noticing Lin Wanyi’s difficulty with martial arts, she began guiding her hands-on.

Half-asleep, Lin Wanyi suddenly noticed something above her—the star map began to shift, forming into a humanoid silhouette.

The figure drifted down from the sky and merged with her body.

Then, a vast and boundless divine soul surged into her being!

Her vague, intangible qi meridians and energy sea became visible—and even the tiniest flaws along them were laid bare...

This... is internal vision?!

Lin Wanyi had only heard of this state in legends. Startled awake, she thought:

What’s happening?

Could I actually be a martial arts prodigy?!

Thinking she was hallucinating, she tried probing her body with her divine sense.

To her surprise, it really worked—her weak meridians became surging rivers, and with a flick of thought, she could direct every drop within.

The overwhelming feeling of strength swelled her ego. She even felt like she could kill Imperial Preceptor Lu Wuzhen with one finger.

Whoa...

Convinced it was real, she shook the man beside her:

“Xie Jinhuan, I think I’ve achieved internal vision. I feel incredibly powerful.”

Xie Jinhuan was in the middle of crafting his new technique. Realizing the Ghost Wife was secretly assisting, he casually replied:

“That’s how dream epiphanies work. It means you ‘got it.’ Just follow your intuition.”

Lin Wanyi felt the same. She turned to observe Xie Jinhuan’s body and saw his qi surging like ocean tides, flowing in a pattern she couldn’t understand.

“What are you cultivating? I don’t recognize it.”

“Candle-pouring. On rotation.”

“Rotating...?”

Lin Wanyi thought that sounded very improper, but didn’t push it. She returned to tracing the star paths.

With a single thought, threads of qi began flowing through her body with a precision she never imagined.

It felt like someone was holding her hand, guiding every move. All she had to do was memorize the steps.

But seeing her body from such a “high” vantage, she realized her current cultivation method had major flaws.

If she continued as is, her dao would grow colder over time—eventually turning her into a body of extreme yin.

Such a physique was perfect for demonic possession—very problematic...

She didn’t know how to fix it directly, but with her background in medicine and witchcraft, she understood the only solution was overwhelming yang energy to counterbalance it.

The most efficient way? Find a man bursting with yang and... well, do him to death.

But at her current accumulation... she’d probably need a hundred sessions or more...

Where was she supposed to find someone like that?

Possibly due to her elevated mental state, her divine sense drifted toward Xie Jinhuan.

He was focused on cultivating, and his qi blazed like a hanging sun at his core—blinding in its intensity.

She didn’t even need to use it. Just a taste might extend her lifespan.

Pffft!

What the hell am I thinking?!

My brain is totally possessed or something...

Lin Wanyi flushed red and, worried that he might’ve “realized” something too, quietly rolled over—her back now facing him as she used divine sense to view the star map.

Rustle rustle...

“?”

From the corner of his eye, Xie Jinhuan saw her proud hips and muttered:

“Why are you pointing your butt at me?”

Swish!

Lin Wanyi quickly rolled back, face to the side, frowning:

“We’re training. Focus.”

Was I the one losing focus?!

Xie Jinhuan inwardly shook his head and stopped teasing the clearly-overthinking Wanyi. He returned to refining his technique...

—

Meanwhile, at the Li Residence.

Censorate Deputy Zhou Ming’an sat at a tea table, holding a cup, brows furrowed in worry:

“Minister Chen Ping of Jingzhao Prefecture took the haunted palace case file today. He’s clearly handing it to Xie Jinhuan.

“Back then, I exonerated Han Jingchuan under Li Gongpu’s orders. The judgment was clearly flawed. If Jinhuan sees the file, he’ll trace it straight to me.

“And Han Jingchuan suddenly died today. I’m honestly worried...”

Li Gongpu, hands behind his back, paced the study:

“You took money from Han Jingchuan three years ago. I only introduced you two. Don’t try to pin everything on me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zhou Ming’an bowed quickly. “It was foolish of me. I just fear that boy might play dirty and come assassinate me. Please, Lord Li...”

Li Gongpu raised a hand to cut him off:

“His Majesty favors me. That dog Cao Fo’er has hated me for years.

“If Xie Jinhuan tries to kill me, Cao might turn a blind eye. But if I send someone to kill Xie Jinhuan, Cao will instantly become ‘Saint Cao the Just.’ If we want to deal with the boy, we have to do it by the book.”

“Meaning...?”

“Assassinating a government official is treason. I had Han Jingchuan bait him into a trap, but he acted too soon and died for nothing. Don’t repeat his mistake.”

Li Gongpu stared Zhou Ming’an down:

“In a few days, take medical leave and rest at Songhe Bay. If Jinhuan comes looking for you, he won’t walk out alive.”

Zhou wasn’t stupid—he could tell this was less trap the enemy and more offer up a pawn.

“Uh... that sounds dangerous. What if he’s too strong and slips past the ambush?”

Li Gongpu knew the political game.

Unless a notable official died, even if he caught Xie Jinhuan red-handed, the worst outcome would be “a young man’s misstep—Dan Prince toasts three cups and it’s over.”

But of course, he wouldn’t say that aloud. Instead, he sat and poured Zhou some tea:

“I’ll have Gongsun Duan and the Royal Fist Hall watching nearby. Jinhuan can’t escape.”

“Uh...”

Zhou knew full well what kind of man Li Gongpu was. He lowered his voice:

“If... if the worst happens...”

Clack!

Li Gongpu slammed the teacup on the table:

“To do great things, you need courage! Even if he slips through, your case becomes high treason. I’ll dig him out and convict him eventually.

“If you don’t have the guts, just leave. I only offered a plan. If you don’t like it, I won’t force you.”

“...”

Zhou Ming’an was terrified this was a setup.

But if Li Gongpu didn’t back him, Xie Jinhuan could have him killed without consequence.

After much painful deliberation, he finally nodded:

“I understand, my lord.”