Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 857: The Third Force

Early the next morning, Pucha Shijie was patrolling the Laundry Courtyard. Since the incident involving Prince Wei that night, the palace guards had tightened security several times over.  

Suddenly, a guard rushed in and whispered something in his ear. Pucha Shijie’s eyes widened like a bull’s: “What? That b*stard dares to bully my sister? He’s looking for death!”  

With that, he stormed out of the palace. But as he reached the Laundry Courtyard’s entrance, he hesitated briefly. Then, remembering that Princess Qi and Pushan Hutu were still stationed inside, he felt reassured and dashed off in a fury.  

Given their special status within the Laundry Courtyard, these individuals didn’t need to seek permission for every little thing like ordinary soldiers. They could come and go as they pleased without formal leave. Of course, they were all disciplined and dutiful, never slacking off like common folk.  

Not long after Pucha Shijie left, Pushan Hutu, who had been working in another room, received a note. The moment he read that something had happened to his elderly mother, his face paled. After hurriedly giving a few orders to his subordinates, he rushed off.  

A while later, Wanyan Ping, who had been interrogating a prisoner in her room, also received a letter. Initially furious at the interruption, her icy expression melted the moment she saw that the letter was from her brother-in-law, inviting her to meet at their usual spot outside the city. A radiant smile bloomed on her face—like the first thaw of winter—leaving her subordinates stunned. They had never seen their ruthless, demonic superior display such a girlish, tender expression.  

When Wanyan Ping noticed their stares, her cheeks flushed, and she deliberately hardened her tone: “What are you looking at?” But despite her stern face, her voice lacked its usual sharpness.  

The thought of meeting her brother-in-law at their secret rendezvous outside the city made her heart race. Memories of their passionate encounter in the valley that night resurfaced, sending warmth flooding through her. ‘This brother-in-law… inviting me there of all places…’  

Though she felt a twinge of guilt toward her sister, the knowledge that her sister had also wronged her brother-in-law eased her conscience.  

After a brief hesitation, Wanyan Ping decided to temporarily set aside the case at hand. Though her imperial brother was pressing for results, delaying it slightly for a tryst with her lover wouldn’t hurt.  

*****  

Hidden among the dense leaves of a tree near the Laundry Courtyard, Song Qingshu and Zhao Yingluo watched as the three of them left one after another.  

“Wanyan Liang’s plan worked,” Song Qingshu remarked with a smile. “Ouyang Feng and the others should be arriving soon.”  

Instead of responding, Zhao Yingluo studied Wanyan Ping’s light, almost skipping gait with amusement. “The infamous cold-blooded demoness of the Laundry Courtyard, Wanyan Ping, is acting like a lovestruck maiden. I wonder who her sweetheart is?”  

Song Qingshu’s heart skipped a beat. “How would I know?” he replied with an awkward chuckle.  

“Re~ally?” Zhao Yingluo drew out the word, giving him a knowing smirk. “If I recall correctly, Wanyan Ping is someone’s sister-in-law, isn’t she? A brother-in-law and his wife’s younger sister… tsk tsk, some people certainly have impressive skills.”  

Due to past experiences involving her sisters, Zhao Yingluo had always despised men who disrespected women. When she first met Song Qingshu at Shaolin Temple, his reputation as a playboy had left her not only unimpressed but outright disgusted.  

But after their unexpected time together in the Jin Dynasty palace, she had to admit her previous bias. Though the man was undeniably a flirt, he was also extraordinarily capable and… not entirely unlikable. So now, her tone carried more teasing than the righteous anger it once would have.  

Unfazed by her jab, Song Qingshu laughed. “A brother-in-law and his sister-in-law—every man’s dream. It’s human nature. Speaking of which, Hu’er and Yuanyuan are also my sisters-in-law, aren’t they?”  

Zhao Yingluo hadn’t expected the conversation to turn on her. “You—!” She glared. “I haven’t even settled the score with you for impersonating as their brother-in-law! Hmph, even if I were to marry someday, it certainly wouldn’t be to a playboy like you. Dream on!”  

Song Qingshu shrugged. “Next life, then. This one’s already got enough romantic entanglements. Saving you for the next life ensures sustainable development.”  

For some reason, his reply made her chest tighten. She turned her face away, her expression darkening.  

“Angry?” Song Qingshu leaned closer. “Well, it’s not like we don’t have a connection in this life either…”  

“What connection?” Despite her reluctance, curiosity got the better of her.  

“Once I marry Hu’er and Yuanyuan, you’ll be my sister-in-law.” He grinned and ducked aside, watching her with amusement.  

“Who wants to be your sister-in-law?!” Her face flushed crimson. “That sounds awful!”  

“Not up to you. Hu’er and Yuanyuan have already claimed me.” He smirked shamelessly.  

“Hmph. They’re just young and inexperienced. Once they return to Lin’an, countless noble sons and talented young men will be vying for their attention. Don’t overestimate your charm.” She sniffed.  

Song Qingshu shook his head, unconcerned. “Our relationship has already reached… a certain level. They won’t be looking at other men.” The memory of the two girls’ soft, delicate lips that night sent a surge of heat through him.  

Zhao Yingluo’s expression changed. “What did you do to them?!” Her voice rose sharply.  

Song Qingshu quickly pressed a hand over her mouth. “Quiet! Something’s happening below.”  

She turned and gasped—the Laundry Courtyard guards were collapsing one after another, as if cursed.  

“What’s going on? Mmmph—!” Only then did she realize his hand was still covering her lips. She swatted it away in a fluster.  

Song Qingshu shook his head. “Not sure. It looks like they’ve been poisoned. Could it be Ouyang Feng?” He couldn’t help feeling relieved Wanyan Ping had left—who knew if this strange toxin was dangerous?  

“No, it’s not Ouyang Feng!” Zhao Yingluo’s face paled as a group of black-clad figures swarmed in, mercilessly cutting down any guard who showed the slightest resistance.