Flower Stealing Master

With Song Qingshu’s current Qinggong, unless the guards at the gate were already on high alert, it was impossible for them to detect his intrusion in that split second. Moreover, the guards at the entrance seemed to fear Wanyan Ping, keeping their heads lowered to the ground, making them even less likely to notice him.

As soon as he entered, Song Qingshu lightly tapped the tip of his foot and swiftly moved into the shadows of the rooftop. The entire process was seamless—so much so that even renowned Qinggong masters in the martial world would likely feel ashamed if they had witnessed it.

“Hmm?” Wanyan Ping suddenly turned around, sensing something. However, all she saw were her subordinates standing respectfully. She furrowed her brows briefly but soon dismissed her suspicion with a self-mocking smile. ‘Am I being too paranoid? The Laundry Courtyard is an unknown place to the outside world, hidden deep within the heavily guarded imperial palace. How could anyone possibly find their way here?’

Watching Wanyan Ping and her entourage walk away, Song Qingshu let out a quiet sigh of relief. ‘My little sister-in-law’s sixth sense is terrifying.’

He became even more cautious in his movements. Fortunately, apart from the guards stationed outside the doors, there was no one inside the rooms. It seemed like a strategy of keeping the exterior heavily guarded while leaving the interior relatively lax. This allowed him to follow Wanyan Ping and her group unnoticed. Otherwise, no matter how skilled he was in Qinggong, it would have been difficult to remain undetected in plain sight.

Following Wanyan Ping, he soon arrived at a row of rooms—though “cells” would be a more accurate description. The walls were not made of earth or bricks but of solid iron bars. Through the gaps in the bars, he could see several people seated cross-legged inside.

Song Qingshu’s sharp eyes immediately recognized Zhang Songxi and Yin Liting. Beside them was another man with a square face, broad nose, and a calm, refined demeanor. His hair at the temples was graying slightly, and he exuded an air of elegance and wisdom. A rather charismatic middle-aged man—though he would look even better if he were a bit thinner.

Despite having never met him before, an instinctive sense of both respect and fear surged within Song Qingshu. He quickly realized that this man was none other than Song Yuanqiao.

Seeing his “father,” Song Qingshu felt a mix of complicated emotions. It would be nonsense to claim he had any real father-son bond with Song Yuanqiao—after all, he was merely a soul that had transmigrated into this world.

“Master Song, it has been a long time. Have you made up your mind yet?” Wanyan Ping’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Song Yuanqiao opened his eyes and gave her a brief, indifferent glance before closing them again, as if he hadn’t heard her question. It was Yin Liting who angrily retorted, “Witch! No matter how much you try, we will never betray Wudang’s martial arts!”

Hidden in the shadows, Song Qingshu silently nodded. ‘As expected of my ‘father,’ his composure is admirable. In contrast, Yin Liting is still young and hot-tempered, unable to remain calm.’

Still, he had to admit that Yin Liting’s impulsiveness was somewhat helpful—it revealed exactly what Wanyan Ping was after.

“Wudang martial arts?” Wanyan Ping scoffed. “If Wudang’s martial arts were truly that formidable, you wouldn’t have ended up captured here.”

“You!” Yin Liting was furious. In the martial world, sects valued their reputation above all else. If they weren’t currently imprisoned, her words alone would have been enough to provoke a duel.

“Looks like Wudang’s skills aren’t that great after all,” Wanyan Ping sneered. “Sixth Hero Yin, as one of Wudang’s Seven Heroes, you’re still young, yet you’re already losing your hearing? Tsk, tsk~”

She flicked her toe, hooked a nearby stool, and gracefully sat down, resting her chin on her hand as she smiled mockingly at Yin Liting.

Yin Liting’s face turned red with anger, but before he could speak, Song Yuanqiao opened his eyes and shook his head at him. Then, he said calmly, “Since you think so little of Wudang’s martial arts, why go through all this trouble to force us into teaching them to you?”

Wanyan Ping snorted. “Wudang’s martial arts might not be the most profound, but they have one major advantage—they’re easy to learn. That makes them perfect for training soldiers in the army.”

“Witch, the Song and Jin dynasties cannot coexist. Do you think we would hand over our martial arts so you can train your soldiers to use them against the Song people in the future?” Zhang Songxi finally spoke, his voice icy.

“Master Zhang, I’ve already explained this before.” Wanyan Ping frowned slightly but maintained her patience. “These soldiers are meant to fight the Mongols. Your Southern Song has been at war with the Mongols for years—your hatred for them runs deep. As the saying goes, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ If our Jin dynasty helps weaken the Mongols, isn’t that beneficial for you?”

Song Qingshu had also found it strange at first, but upon hearing her explanation, he suddenly understood. ‘So that’s it. The Jin dynasty’s war with the Mongols has cost them too many elite Jurchen warriors, forcing them to recruit a large number of Han soldiers. However, these Han soldiers aren’t as naturally formidable as Jurchen warriors, making them unsuitable for direct battles against Mongols. Wudang’s martial arts, with their low entry barrier, would be ideal for improving their combat abilities in a short time. If widely implemented in the army, they could quickly form an effective fighting force.’

Zhang Songxi remained unmoved. “There’s no need for further discussion. We will never betray Wudang’s martial arts.”

Wanyan Ping’s expression darkened as she abruptly stood up. “I’ve been patient and tried to reason with you all this time. I had hoped we could cooperate, benefiting both sides. If our Jin dynasty unifies the world in the future, Wudang could even become our national sect. But since you refuse to drink the wine of respect, you will have to drink the wine of punishment. Did you really think I have no means to make you talk?”

Song Yuanqiao said indifferently, “Since we’ve fallen into your hands, we never expected to leave alive. Do what you will.”

“Kill you? Torture you?” Wanyan Ping let out a mocking laugh. “There are fates far worse than death in this world.”

Hidden in the darkness, Song Qingshu secretly gathered his True Qi. If his “little sister-in-law” truly intended to resort to killing or torture, he would have to intervene, even if it meant revealing himself.

“Do you know where you are?” Wanyan Ping suddenly asked. Seeing the three men’s confused expressions, she chuckled. “This place is called the Laundry Courtyard. Officially, it’s where palace maids wash clothes for the imperial family. But do you know who these maids actually are?”

She paced leisurely in front of the prison cells, her smile becoming increasingly sinister. “As Song people, you must be well aware of the ‘Jingkang Humiliation,’ aren’t you? Back then, after the Jurchens conquered the capital, they captured not only the two emperors but also thousands of royal concubines, princesses, noblewomen, and young girls. Many died, while others became concubines of Jurchen princes and generals. But the rest… were locked away here in the Laundry Courtyard.”

Her voice turned ice-cold. “It has been many years, and most of them are long dead. But the princesses and noblewomen who were mere infants or children back then? They have all grown up now…”

A cruel smile played on her lips. “Now, tell me, what would happen if the people of the Song dynasty learned that Wudang’s righteous heroes had ‘defiled’ their noble princesses here in Jin territory? Would Wudang still have a place in the Southern Song?”

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