Roaring Dragon-Chapter 7: This House Is a Bit Too Noisy

The commotion by the riverside continued. Over a dozen constables arrived one after another, using riverboats to haul the carriage out of the water.

Fortunately, the inner river wasn’t deep. The two horses were unharmed, though the carriage itself was totaled.

A crowd of scholars and commoners packed the streets to watch, completely clogging traffic. Meanwhile, in a side alley nearby, three figures stood watch as a broker and a constable called out:

“Young Master Xie?”

“Xie Jinhuan? Xie Jinhuan? Where’d he go?”

“Don’t tell me he ran off?”

Constable Xiao Wang grew nervous when he realized Xie Jinhuan had vanished, wondering if he should report back immediately.

Luckily, before long, a figure leapt down from the rooftop and landed in front of them.

“Sorry about that. Got caught up watching the fun.”

Seeing the man and his bird return, Xiao Wang breathed a sigh of relief.

The broker, however, hurried over in a fluster.

“Young man! I told you to wait here—why’d you run off? Steward Hou squeezed out time from his packed schedule to come meet you. If you’ve wasted his time, can you afford to take responsibility?”

“My apologies. Please thank Steward Hou for—uh...”

Xie Jinhuan, still mentally rattled from tangling with a top-tier demoness, wasn’t exactly in a good place. His mind was full of noise, and he wasn’t paying close attention—until he finally looked up and saw the man on the street.

He froze.

Steward Hou... was something else.

At most, he stood a meter sixty. Thin as a stick, dressed in a black tunic, holding a paper fan. Beady eyes, pointy chin, rat-like features—and to top it off, a wispy mustache that made him look straight out of a satire.

If the sixteen-foot divine succubus from earlier was the ceiling of looks, then this guy was the basement boiler room. They were polar opposites, but equally... unforgettable.

Even Xie Jinhuan, normally rock-steady, was shaken. The demoness in his head temporarily vanished as he eyed the steward suspiciously, wondering if he’d accidentally wandered into some underground resistance bunker.

Even Meiqiu on his shoulder had its beak wide open, staring with round eyes that clearly screamed: Is that a monkey spirit?!

Steward Hou casually twirled his folding fan, seemingly used to his terrifying aura. He waved impatiently.

“You’re the one renting a house, yeah? The Princess’s estate has plenty of properties. What kind are you looking for?”

There was only one Princess with a manor in Danyang: the Duchess of Changning, a second-rank noble and eldest daughter of the Dan Prince.

Xie Jinhuan hadn’t expected the landlady to be such a big shot—or the steward to look like... this. He composed himself and replied:

“Just need a place to stay for a bit. Somewhere livable. Preferably on Qingquan Alley.”

Steward Hou, a ring of keys jingling at his waist, led the way with fan in hand.

“Qingquan Alley’s prime real estate. One turn out and you’re in Taoxian Ward—every inch worth gold. Food, drink, fun, entertainment, all within reach. Even got a brothel street right inside. The girls there? Whew...”

Brothel street...

That made Xie Jinhuan think of the bandits’ conversation. But he really wasn’t in the mood for courtesans right now.

“How much is the rent?”

“Smallest one-courtyard residence, fifty taels a month. One month deposit, three months up front.”

Fifty taels?!

Xie Jinhuan froze in his tracks, stunned.

He’d never held a job, sure, but he knew prices.

His father, as an eighth-rank constable, earned only fifteen taels a month—plus some rice, firewood, and cloth.

A monthly rent of fifty taels? That was three months’ wages for a county officer! And the move-in cost? Two hundred taels!

That rent could rival houses near the imperial palace!

Thinking of that, Xie Jinhuan fished out the money pouch donated by the monk.

It was all broken silver and copper coins, plus one government-issued note. Altogether... maybe thirty taels at most.

He’d killed three people and still didn’t have enough to cover one month’s rent. Danyang’s real estate market shocked him.

He tucked the pouch away and asked:

“Does Constable Yang also live here?”

Steward Hou pointed with his fan toward a pair of lanterns glowing deeper in the alley.

“Right there. Old hand at the yamen, got the place free from the palace. Different from your case. But lucky for you, I happen to have a two-courtyard house that’s been vacant a while. A bit noisy, though. Never rented out. If you’re not picky, I’ll give it to you for twenty taels a month, no deposit, monthly payments.”

Twenty taels was still a hefty sum. Xie Jinhuan ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) didn’t have much on him—that’s why he’d wanted something nearby. At this rate, he might’ve been better off at an inn. Twenty taels would get him a decent room for a whole month.

Constable Xiao Wang, seeing the price was steep, tried to help out:

“Young Master Xie is only passing through to assist the yamen. He won’t be staying long. Steward Hou, could you give him a little discount?”

Steward Hou snapped, annoyed: “Two taels. Final offer. Not a copper less.”

“Coo?”

All three of them stumbled. Even Meiqiu stared in disbelief.

From fifty taels down to two?

That wasn’t a discount. That was practically free!

What was this house, haunted by a slaughtered family?

Or did it rain outside and inside?

Xie Jinhuan was full of suspicion as he followed Steward Hou deeper into the alley. Soon, a white-walled, blue-tiled residence appeared before them.

The place looked new. Two steps of white stone, flanked by carved beast drumstones. The black lacquered door was thick and hung with a bronze lock.

When the door opened, a spacious front courtyard revealed itself. A white stone path ran down the middle, with a stable, kitchen, guest room, and tea room on either side. Ahead was a moon gate leading to a refined rear garden.

The whole structure was covered in glazed blue tiles, exquisitely carved, stylish and grand. Even the stone tiles in the walkway were top quality. Aside from a few fallen leaves, it was practically flawless.

Xie Jinhuan wasn’t a country bumpkin. One glance at the kitchen walls and he could tell—the house was brand new. The stove hadn’t even been lit yet.

“Steward Hou, you’re sure this is two taels a month?!”

Steward Hou frowned. “Still too expensive? Fine, three qian less. Take it or leave it.”

You can go even lower?!

Xie Jinhuan knew full well that cheap things were rarely good, but he couldn’t figure out what the trap was. He glanced around the courtyard.

“This house... where’s the noise? Ghosts?”

“Not quite.”

Steward Hou was very frank. He pointed his fan toward the back.

“Behind the main hall is the Princess’s Wuwei Pavilion. Her Highness often hosts banquets there at night. Bit of flute and strings. If you can handle that, it’s yours.”

Xie Jinhuan didn’t buy it.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

No way the landlady threw banquets every night. And even if she did, how loud could some dinner parties get?

For a place this big and luxurious, one tael and seven qian a month was absurd.

There had to be some invisible ghost...

But hey, he already had one giant ghost girl tagging along. If this was a haunted house, all the better for cover. Thinking it through, he pulled out some broken silver.

“Alright. I’ll take it.”

“Good man.”

Steward Hou pulled out a lease. After Xie Jinhuan signed, he took the paper and squinted at the signature.

“Well, well—your handwriting’s pretty damn good.”

Xie Jinhuan had always known that calligraphy mattered. Since age three, he’d practiced the classics. His dad’s official documents were usually ghostwritten by him.

He was about to respond modestly, but Steward Hou went on:

“Great. I’ve got someone to do the Spring Festival couplets. Don’t you dare move out early—stay ‘til the New Year at least.”

“...?”

Xie Jinhuan couldn’t even bother replying.

Soon after, Steward Hou, the broker, and Constable Xiao Wang all left, locking the gate behind them.

Click—

Silence fell over the two-courtyard house, save for the rustle of wind through the bamboo leaves.

Shhhh—

Xie Jinhuan stood alone in the courtyard, Meiqiu hopping around beside him. He headed to the rear rooms, poking around for any possible ghostly tenants.

The rear house had a main hall and east/west wings. The master bedroom was huge, with a redwood canopy bed big enough for five people to play cards without bumping elbows. But it had no mattress or pillows—just a bare frame.

He didn’t find anything spooky. Which made him more suspicious. He already had one extra-large ghost tagging along. He was too tired to bother looking anymore and collapsed onto the bed frame, pondering what to do next.

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The Soul-Sealing Curse couldn’t be broken on his own. He couldn’t ask anyone for help either—one checkup and his secret would be exposed.

Ye the Demoness was alive. He couldn’t toss the sword. He also couldn’t keep digging that grave.

The only real path forward was to reach First Grade as fast as possible—then re-seal that ancestral demoness.

As for tracking his father’s whereabouts... that would have to wait until he made it out of Danyang alive.

What the hell was I thinking, digging up a demon tomb at my current strength?

...

Lost in regret and frustration, he was still sorting his thoughts when the "small flaw" Steward Hou mentioned finally revealed itself:

Tang tang tang—...

“My dream ends in Wushan’s misty rain, the jade covers cold, I lie alone, fully clothed...”

...

As night deepened, sounds of a pipa and a woman’s song drifted in from beyond the rear wall. Judging by the direction, it was coming from the second floor—right above his bedroom.

The music was beautiful. The singer’s voice, sweet and melodic.

At first, Xie Jinhuan thought it was a pleasant bonus.

But before long, the music was drowned out by shrieking laughter:

“You bitch! You cheated again!”

“Eight sixes!”

“Where’s Qingmo?”

“She said she’s not feeling well. Resting in her room.”

“Ohhh~...”

Clatter clatter...

Ding ding dong dong...

Dice rattling. Footsteps running. Women laughing, arguing, teasing. He even heard a few loud slaps that sounded very springy.

Xie Jinhuan blinked, baffled.

Is the Princess’s estate hosting a swingers’ party?

Though judging by the voices, it sounded more like a girls-only party...

He’d heard the capital’s noblewomen were wild, but Danyang’s ladies weren’t far behind.

He furrowed his brows. The party couldn’t last more than an hour. He decided to ignore it and try to sleep.

But the wall behind the bedroom—barely five meters from the Princess’s banquet hall—soon thundered with a loud boom.

Sounded like a musket shot. Deafening.

Meiqiu, lying nearby, fluffed up instantly, did a 180 spin, and stared at the ceiling in horror.

“Coo—?!”

Xie Jinhuan also jolted upright, gripping his Tiangang Mace—only to hear a chorus of excited girls:

“Your Highness, bullseye!”

“Again! Again!”

...

Then came the firecrackers, like it was Lunar New Year.

Bang bang bang...

Xie Jinhuan’s face went black.

Now he understood why this mansion was so cheap.

Who the hell could sleep here?!

Even a New Year beast would get PTSD in this place.

He realized—again—that he was too young. Cheap never meant good. He clenched his jaw and endured it.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the noise stopped. Silence returned to the room.

...?

Xie Jinhuan frowned, opened his eyes—and froze.

There was a woman beside him.

Dressed in a crimson wedding gown, about his height, lying next to him. Her face pale as paper, tongue sticking out—

Just like a freshly hanged ghost.