Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 768: Northern Song Princesses

With Wanyan Ping gone and her two top experts absent, the Laundry Courtyard’s many guards were no threat to Song Qingshu. But what to do after rescuing them?

Imagining himself fleeing through the palace with three lust-crazed old men made Song Qingshu shudder. From past experience, he could detoxify this aphrodisiac poison, but it required a quiet place to slowly channel internal energy to neutralize it. In this perilous situation, the palace guards would never give him such a chance.

Besides, he had only detoxified women before—whether those methods worked on men was uncertain. Even if they did… the thought of purging lust from old men sent chills through him. How could that compare to aiding delicate, charming maidens?

And what of the three poisoned princesses? Could he abandon them to die consumed by desire?

Weighing his options, Song Qingshu made a grim decision: wait and watch. (G: cough!)

Let Song Yuanqiao and the others neutralize their poison first, then rescue them. Though this might seem a scandal that could ruin Wudang’s reputation in the Southern Song, only Wanyan Ping and a few others knew—ordinary guards wouldn’t dare leak a word.

Thus, the matter could be concealed. As for the three Song princesses… Song Qingshu had heard of the Laundry Courtyard’s horrors. When the Jin Empire sacked Bianjing, they abducted countless consorts, princesses, and noblewomen. On the journey north, they were defiled. Harshly put, except for babies in swaddling clothes, these princesses were no longer pure. One more violation meant little to them, unlike virtuous maidens who might seek death.

‘Sigh, I can only wrong the three princesses,’ Song Qingshu sighed inwardly. He was human, not a god, and had no other way.

Still uneasy, he found a weakly guarded spot, used Qinggong to slip through a skylight, and peered down from a beam. The scene below nearly made his nose bleed.

Song Yuanqiao and the others, faces flushed red, sat in a circle meditating. Three alluring women, half-clad with snowy skin exposed, clung to them, writhing in their arms.
Song Qingshu glanced at the princesses. They seemed past thirty but were still beautiful, their royal status adding charm.

“Princesses, please behave!” Song Yuanqiao’s strained words nearly made Song Qingshu laugh. In such a state, he spoke like a pedant.

“Dear brother, we’re so hot, so uncomfortable…” Their sultry voices softened even Song Qingshu, let alone Song Yuanqiao and the others.

The princesses tore at their scant cl0thing, guiding the men’s hands to their b0s0ms, murmuring with longing.

Seeing the last clarity fade from Song Yuanqiao’s eyes, Song Qingshu knew the inevitable would happen. 

Lacking a voyeur’s taste, he quietly retraced his steps.

“They must never know I was here, or they’ll resent me for standing by and come at me with swords!” Song Qingshu resolved.

Guarding outside, he heard the palace noises subside, signaling the time to act. He slipped back in—waiting until it was fully over would let the guards enter first.

The lascivious scene inside made him marvel. Song Yuanqiao and the others, now sober and dressed, apologized profusely to the princesses, guilt-ridden. 

The princesses, however, seemed calm, as if accustomed to such events.

With a flash, Song Qingshu tapped the princesses’ sleep acupoints. Facing the shocked trio, he feigned grief: “Qingshu arrived too late, causing you suffering!”

“Suffering?” Song Yuanqiao and the others blushed. Despite their guilt, they couldn’t deny the pleasure.

“We’ve committed such shame—how can we face Master?” Song Yuanqiao, in anguish, raised a palm to his skull.

Song Qingshu, startled, relaxed when he saw the feeble strike. He advised, “This isn’t your fault—blame the Jin’s vile cunning.”

“Indeed, especially that witch Wanyan Ping, devising such a venomous plot,” Zhang Songxi trembled with rage.

Song Qingshu thought, ‘If you knew she’s my woman, what would you think?’

He consoled, “Su!cide only pains loved ones and delights foes. It won’t undo this. The Jin could still smear Wudang, and your deaths would lend credence to their lies.”

“Then what do we do?” Yin Liting, dazed and lost, asked instinctively.

“Deny it outright!” Song Qingshu said swiftly. “I’ve found an antidote for Rouge Drunkenness. I’ll get you out, and the Jin, with no proof, will swallow their scheme.”

“This…” Song Yuanqiao wavered.

“Senior Brother, Qingshu’s right. Our honor is small; Wudang’s reputation is great,” Zhang Songxi urged.

“No!” Song Yuanqiao said gravely. “Leaving is easy, but what of them? The Jin will vent their wrath on them, subjecting them to inhuman t0rment. We may fool the world, but not our hearts. As practitioners, how can we harm them and walk away?”

Zhang Songxi and Yin Liting nodded. “Indeed, abandoning them lacks chivalry.”

“Then what’s your plan?” Song Qingshu was exasperated. Time was short, yet they clung to such rigidity.

“We’ve heard of the Song princesses’ plight under the Jin. If we rescue them back to our land, it’ll restore Han pride, inspire hearts, and… atone for our sins today,” Song Yuanqiao said, ashamed.

Song Qingshu was stunned. “Easy to say! Saving you three alone has taxed me. The Laundry Courtyard holds at least a dozen princesses—how can I save them all?”