Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 848: The North Wind Blows, the Autumn Wind Chills

For a master of disguise, altering one’s appearance and voice is actually the easiest part. The far greater challenge lies in mimicking body shape, as people vary drastically in build—some are tall and burly, while others are small and frail. However, the martial world has secret techniques like bone-contraction skills, so while disguising one’s physique is difficult, it’s not impossible for a true master of disguise.

What truly troubles all masters of disguise, though, is masking one’s natural scent. Every person in this world has their own unique body odor—often faint and unnoticed by ordinary people, yet nearly impossible to hide from those closest to them.

Because of daily proximity, the scent of someone who shares your bed is intimately familiar. Even if a woman isn’t consciously aware of this scent, her subconscious recognizes it. If someone else were to impersonate her husband—even matching his appearance and build perfectly—she would still sense an innate strangeness.

Of course, most women, even if they find something odd, wouldn’t dwell on it. After all, who could imagine someone perfectly impersonating their husband? But for those with keen attention to detail, even the slightest discrepancy could reveal that their husband had been replaced.

In this world, even the greatest masters of disguise cannot alter their natural scent—or, at least, cannot perfectly replicate another person’s scent. 

And it’s not just this world; even in Song Qingshu’s past life, in the M@rvel universe he once encountered, Mystique of the EX-Men—who could flawlessly mimic anyone’s appearance—could not change her body’s scent. Once, while impersonating W0lverine’s lover, she was instantly detected by his keen sense of smell.

Because of this, whenever Song Qingshu disguised himself as another man, he instinctively avoided intimate contact with the man’s lover. This was also why he had deliberately kept his distance from Gebi before—after all, there was no telling whether a woman was careless or sharp-eyed. If he encountered the latter, all his carefully laid plans could be ruined in an instant.

This time, forced by circumstances, Song Qingshu had no choice but to approach Tudan Jing. Thus, he paid extra attention to this detail. Since he couldn’t replicate Wanyan Liang’s scent, he opted to mask his own with another strong odor. He deliberately doused himself in copious amounts of alcohol—after all, Wanyan Liang had been drinking earlier, so Tudan Jing wouldn’t find it suspicious.

The overpowering stench of liquor completely masked his natural scent. No matter how sharp Tudan Jing’s nose was, all she could smell now was the pungent alcohol.

“What are you waiting for? Come to bed.” Tudan Jing waited for a while but saw no movement from him, so she spoke up in confusion.
Song Qingshu gave a bitter smile. If he took off his clothes, the alcohol’s masking effect would weaken, and Tudan Jing might notice something amiss.

But at this point, even if it was risky, he had no choice but to press forward. They couldn’t possibly stay like this, chatting until dawn. Quickly removing his outer robe, he slipped under the covers. He couldn’t help but feel relieved that the room wasn’t lit—otherwise, while he could mimic Wanyan Liang’s face and build, he had no way of knowing what undergarments the man had worn today. If Tudan Jing noticed, she would surely grow suspicious.

“My lord, you must take better care of yourself. Don’t drink so much—you reek.” Tudan Jing wrinkled her delicate brows at the overwhelming stench of alcohol, her voice laced with coquettish complaint.

As Song Qingshu breathed in the faint, sweet fragrance lingering in the bedding, his heart stirred. He couldn’t resist teasing, “So if I stink in the future, my beloved consort won’t let me into her bed?”

“I would always welcome you, my lord. It’s just… in recent years, you’ve been so busy chasing other flowers that you’ve rarely come to my bed.” Her voice carried deep resentment.

Song Qingshu was momentarily stunned. So Wanyan Liang had been fooling around outside, leaving his beautiful wife to suffer in lonely solitude? He couldn’t help but recall a humorous rhyme from his past life:

“The north wind blows, the autumn wind chills,

Whose lovely wife lies lonely still?

If you’re in trouble, I’ll help you out,

I live next door—my name is Wang.”

Hearing the relentless commotion from next door, Song Qingshu smirked coldly to himself: ‘Though my surname is Song, I don’t mind playing the role of ‘Old Wang’ for once…’

“My lord…” While he was lost in thought, Tudan Jing had already nestled into his arms, pressing her cheek tightly against his chest. Her voice was sweet, almost cloying.

After listening to the “live performance” next door for so long, even an otherworldly fairy would have been affected. Tudan Jing had long been stirred by desire, and now, with her husband’s strong scent of alcohol filling her senses, she felt an inexplicable masculine allure. Her entire body softened against him.

Feeling her warm, pliant form, Song Qingshu’s throat went dry. “Little Jing’er, you smell so sweet.”

“If my lord likes it, then I’m happy.” Rarely hearing such praise from her husband, Tudan Jing couldn’t contain her joy.

Just then, the sounds from next door started up again, making her heart race. A fire seemed to burn within her, desperate for her husband’s affection. But she knew—he had many women outside. If she didn’t take the initiative tonight, he might not touch her at all.

Though shy, her body’s instincts overrode her usual restraint. Slowly, she slipped further under the covers. 

At first, Song Qingshu was puzzled, but when he realized what she was doing, his expression shifted dramatically. He had considered playing the gentleman, but when a beautiful princess consort began serving him like this, even the most enlightened monk would abandon his vows on the spot.

‘Wanyan Liang really trained his wife well,’ As heenjoyed her mouth-service, Song Qingshu marveled inwardly. ‘Tudan Jing always seemed so demure and proper—who knew she could do something like this?’

In truth, he was mistaken. In this world, propriety and hierarchy were paramount. Even in intimacy, husbands and wives typically followed strict conventions, rarely resorting to unconventional methods—though men had far more freedom when playing with concubines.

Tudan Jing had noticed her husband’s growing indifference in recent years. Unable to understand what allure those other women held, she had sought advice from experienced women in her family. They taught her many things that made her blush, but to win back her husband’s affection, she endured her embarrassment and learned them all. She had never had the chance to try them—until now, when Song Qingshu unexpectedly reaped the benefits.

After about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Song Qingshu could hold back no longer. With a swift motion, he flipped Tudan Jing beneath him.

*****

Some time later, Tudan Jing suddenly let out a startled cry, her voice trembling with panic:

“You—you’re not the prince! Who… who are you?!”

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