Roaring Dragon-Chapter 9: Inverted Candle Pour

Tang tang tang~...

“You cheeky little tramp, cheating again?!”

...

Night deepened, but the ruckus in the palace complex hadn’t died down.

In the wide front courtyard, moonlight draped the world in silver.

Meiqiu held a fallen leaf in its beak, dropping it into a bamboo basket by the wall—playing the part of a devoted maid, tidying up the grounds.

Meanwhile, Xie Jinhuan balanced on two fingers in the middle of the white stone path, meditating upside down, a booklet of martial insights held in one hand.

His cultivation technique was the Joyful Heart Sutra, paired with the “Silver Dragon Eight Forms.” The booklet also contained various notes and realizations.

In Great Qian, schools of thought and practice flourished—Daoist, Buddhist, martial, shamanic, demonic. Though their methods varied wildly, they all cultivated the same foundational energy: the primordial breath of all things, also known as Innate Qi.

As “one breath gives rise to yin and yang, and yin-yang splits into the five elements,” each sect leaned in its own direction—rarely compatible.

For instance, martial artists pursued balance and unity, refining pure qi without dividing it into elements.

Lightning belonged to the wood element—pure yang and extreme force. To use such a technique, one’s method had to favor that element.

So under normal circumstances, a pure martial artist could never use Daoist magic.

But long ago, Xie Jinhuan had theorized—what if he reversed his cultivation? Used expert control to split his refined qi into its components: first into five elements, then refine one.

With that, even as a martial artist, he could use Daoist divine arts.

The benefit? Universal adaptability—he could use any technique.

The drawback was obvious: going against the natural flow was monstrously difficult. And if he split his qi five ways, even with perfect efficiency, he’d only get 20% power.

Take today’s Palm Lightning, used in front of Yang Dabiao. That was exactly such a move. It cost more energy than Black Dragon Crashes the Pillar, and all he got was a few sparks. Less than 5% energy efficiency.

Still, this technique perfectly matched his old style: “knows everything, masters nothing.”

Xie Jinhuan felt the method had potential, so he kept refining it—though progress was slow. Then he heard something from the alley:

Whoosh—

A white figure landed atop the courtyard wall.

While still upside down, Xie Jinhuan glanced down and saw a cool, sword-bearing beauty standing there.

She wore a snow-white robe, legs long and straight, hips curving into a striking silhouette, her waist cinched tight, chest full but not exaggerated.

Her mountain-arched brows and proud nose gave her a cool, aloof air, and her bright eyes held no trace of girlish softness.

Seeing a cold beauty drop in on her own, Xie Jinhuan blinked in mild confusion.

“Miss, and you are...?”

Linghu Qingmo had been putting on her usual cool expression, but then looked down and saw—him.

Upside-down, balancing on two fingers, reading a book, wearing nothing but thin trousers.

Despite the odd pose, she could see the clean-cut face, well-proportioned limbs, and flawless chest and abs gleaming in the moonlight—like a sculpture carved from white jade.

...?

Linghu Qingmo, pure and proper as a Taoist nun, suddenly face-to-face with a shirtless young man, nearly lost it. She immediately looked away.

“...What are you doing?”

Xie Jinhuan put the booklet away and flipped upright, glancing around.

“Training. This is my home. Did Miss perhaps come to the wrong place?”

Back in Dongcang Ward, she’d only seen his back. Judging by his strength, she’d assumed he was about Yang Dabiao’s age.

But now, the youth in the courtyard looked about her own age—and didn’t have the vibe of a brutal killer. Linghu Qingmo began to doubt herself and looked around.

“You’re Xie Jinhuan?”

Xie Jinhuan got the sense she wasn’t here with good intentions, but he didn’t recognize her. He clasped his hands politely.

“That’s me. And Miss is...?”

Hearing his name confirmed, Linghu Qingmo felt her heart sink.

If it had been some thirty-something martial veteran who accidentally hurt her, that’d just be an unfortunate misunderstanding.

But a peer—someone her own age—who knocked out a direct disciple of Zihui Mountain with one strike? That was a humiliation.

If she didn’t reclaim some face, how could Zihui Mountain hold its head high?

Her master was returning after Mid-Autumn Festival. She’d be lucky not to be kicked out of the sect...

With that realization, her mindset shifted. Seeing he didn’t recognize her without her armor, she drew her sword with a flash of green.

“Already forgot me after our brief encounter?”

Xie Jinhuan glanced at her sword—looked like Zihui Mountain’s style, same as the Zhenglun Sword. But he still didn’t recognize her and frowned.

“...Dongcang Ward.”

“...Ah.”

Realization struck.

He squinted at the full-chested woman on his wall.

“You’re the guy who ambushed me earlier today?”

...?

Linghu Qingmo’s brows shot up.

“Who are you calling an ambusher?!”

Th𝓮 most uptodate nov𝑒ls are publish𝒆d on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.

Now that he knew she wasn’t some divine beauty falling from the sky but a palace guard here for payback, Xie Jinhuan couldn’t afford to apologize. If he admitted fault, he might have to pay for injuries—and he didn’t have the silver for that!

“You look like a grown woman. Why so reckless? I was fighting for my life against demon bandits, and you came at me from behind without warning. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?

“Lucky for you, I didn’t use full strength. Otherwise, you’d be pushing up daisies. I risked my life to rid the city of evil, and ended up jailed as a criminal... what a travesty...”

Linghu Qingmo clearly remembered him nearly turning her into dumpling filling with that one strike. If she hadn’t dodged fast, she’d be toast. No way he wasn’t going full force.

But thinking back, she had rushed in without confirming the situation, which got her injured and landed him in jail.

She felt a bit guilty. After a pause, she dropped into the courtyard.

“It’s true I was reckless earlier. I apologize.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Xie Jinhuan was pleasantly surprised by her sense of reason and let out a silent sigh of relief.

“I’m glad you understand. Just remember: if your skills aren’t solid, don’t be so impulsive. The martial world’s long—but you only get one life.”

If your skills aren’t solid...

Linghu Qingmo, a direct disciple of Zihui Mountain, being lectured like a junior? That was a bit much. Even knowing the gap in strength, she couldn’t let it slide. She raised her sword with an air of elegance.

“Do you know who I am?”

Xie Jinhuan guessed she wasn’t ordinary. Anyone who took a hit to the chest and was still standing had to be impressive. He studied the sword at her waist.

“You’re an inner disciple of Zihui Mountain?”

Linghu Qingmo clasped one hand behind her back, mimicking her master Nangong Ye’s signature stance.

“I’m Linghu Qingmo of Zihui Mountain. My master is the current sect leader. I also serve as a squad leader in the Prince’s Guard, responsible for tracking demonic disturbances.”

She revealed her identity, intending to issue a formal challenge.

But Xie Jinhuan’s response was... unique. Upon hearing she was the disciple of “the number one beauty of the Daoist world,” he frowned suspiciously.

“You’re Nangong Fairy’s disciple? You couldn’t even take half a strike from me. You only inherited her looks?”

“You—!”

There was no greater insult to a cultivator than that.

Linghu Qingmo’s almond eyes widened, chest heaving. She nearly coughed blood.

It’s not that I’m weak—it’s that you’re ridiculously strong!

I took a direct hit to the chest and I’m still breathing! What more do you want?!

But saying that would only fuel his ego.

Clenching her teeth, Linghu Qingmo explained:

“I was trying to save someone. I wasn’t prepared. That’s why I got hurt. If we fought properly, the outcome would be very different.”

“Is that so?”

Xie Jinhuan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

He knew her skill was decent, but Nangong Ye? She was the fabled sword fairy of the South, the dream bride of countless young men, and a living legend in the Daoist world. Her disciple couldn’t even take a hit?

Linghu Qingmo could feel the doubt and disdain radiating from his eyes. It was more humiliating than anything she’d ever experienced. She raised her sword.

“I told you—it was an accident. If you don’t believe me, let’s duel.”

Xie Jinhuan didn’t believe for a second she was Nangong Ye’s direct disciple. If she was, she had to be one of the weaker ones—riding the coattails of her master’s fame.

Seeing her ask for a match, he didn’t refuse. He grabbed his Tiangang Mace from the side of the steps.

“If you insist. But I’ve got one condition.”

“What condition?”

He looked around at the courtyard full of fallen leaves.

“If you lose, clean the courtyard for me. Save Meiqiu the trouble.”

Linghu Qingmo frowned, glanced at the massive estate, and asked:

“And if you lose?”

“I’ll give you Meiqiu.”

“Coo?!”

Leaf in beak, Meiqiu stared at him in shock!

Linghu Qingmo looked at the spirit bird—its aura was impressive. She was tempted, but seeing how confident he was, she stayed cautious.

“Fine. A gentleman’s word is his bond. Zihui Mountain cultivates both sword and lightning arts. I’m skilled in both. Brace yourself.”

Xie Jinhuan raised his left hand, palm open like he was cradling sun and moon.

“My style’s a bit eclectic. I dabble in everything. This one’s still in testing—power unknown. ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Be careful.”

As he spoke, a breeze stirred the courtyard, lifting white skirts—soon swelling into a storm.

Whoosh!

Meiqiu leapt onto the steps, hiding behind a pillar to peek out.

Linghu Qingmo saw Xie Jinhuan’s energy rising by the second. She feared he might unleash a Heaven-Slaying Sword Formation—but on closer inspection, it didn’t feel quite right. She raised her sword warily.

“What technique is this?”

“Inverted Candle Pour. One-of-a-kind.”

“Inverted what?”

She was puzzled. His qi was surging, but it wasn’t gathering—it was... dispersing?

“Your qi’s spilling out. Are you scattering your power?”

Xie Jinhuan was reverse-processing his qi—splitting it wildly. Technically, he was scattering it.

But he only let go of four-fifths. The rest, he saved for a move.

Once he had just enough for one strike, he raised his chin.

“Ready?”

Linghu Qingmo’s brows tightened. She prepared to strike first, but then—

Boom—

With a dull thud, the man in the center of the courtyard vanished—and reappeared in front of her in a blink.

She’d expected something like this, but still underestimated his speed. At three zhang apart, she had no time to use her lightning arts. She could only draw her sword to parry.

Clang—

Steel clashed as Linghu Qingmo moved like a blur, her sword slicing toward his waist with thunderous force.

But Xie Jinhuan’s Tiangang Mace rose to deflect the blade, while his left hand, claw-like, shot toward her chest.

A straightforward combo—attack and defend in one.

Linghu Qingmo could see it clearly. She planned to twist her wrist, slip past the mace, and stab his chest—

But then she saw it.

A flicker of pale blue light surged around Xie Jinhuan’s mace.

Zzzzzap—!

In that instant, the weapon crackled with electricity before the glow vanished.

Linghu Qingmo instantly recognized it—Lightning-Bound Blade, a Daoist technique.

Used to trap evil, it could also paralyze opponents. Rarely lethal, but very effective.

She had no idea where he learned such an obscure skill, and his version was weak—barely lasting a flash. But...

It was all about timing.

Caught completely off guard, the jolt numbed half her body. Her movements faltered.

Thud!

Xie Jinhuan’s Dragon-Claw Strike hit dead center, landing squarely on her chest.

He wasn’t going full force, but his five fingers still sank into her clothes—

Soft, springy, warm—