Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 875: An Alternative Approach

No sooner had Zhou Zhiruo left than Song Qingzhu found himself in low spirits. However, the sight of his charming sister-in-law immediately lifted his mood, and he eagerly stepped forward to greet her: “Ping’er~”  

To his surprise, Wanyan Ping abruptly shook off his hand, leaving Song Qingzhu momentarily stunned.  

“Why did you use me?” Her voice was as cold as ice.  

“I… didn’t.” Song Qingzhu’s voice faltered toward the end, betraying his guilt. Although the letter that had diverted her wasn’t written by him, he had been fully aware of the scheme—effectively giving silent approval to Wanyan Liang’s use of his name to send her away.  

Sensing his hesitation, Wanyan Ping’s disappointment deepened, her voice devoid of its usual warmth:  

“Brother-in-law, ever since I was little, I’ve admired you—even dreamed of marrying you. That night when we fell off the cliff together was the happiest moment of my life. I truly thought I’d have a chance to be with you… But now, looking back, it was all a lie. You approached me with ulterior motives. How foolish of me to believe it was real.”  

Song Qingzhu opened his mouth to explain but then stopped himself. There was no denying the truth in her words—he “had” approached her with hidden intentions.  

Wanyan Ping sighed. “Fine. Let’s leave it at this. From now on, we are strangers.”  

She turned to leave but paused after a few steps. “When they questioned me, I didn’t say I left because of your letter. Be careful—don’t let the palace find out.”  

With that, she walked away without looking back.  

“What a good-hearted girl,” Song Qingzhu murmured, touched. Despite knowing he had used her, she still chose to protect him, bearing the blame alone. Tang Kuo Bian’s sister-in-law truly loved him deeply.  

Though it felt somewhat unkind, Song Qingzhu decided not to explain. Perhaps this was for the best—he couldn’t live as Tang Kuo Bian forever. One day, Wanyan Ping would learn of his death. Better she be disillusioned now than suffer unbearable grief later. If Tang Kuo Bian’s spirit watched over her, he would surely want her to move on and start anew.  

Lost in thought, Song Qingzhu entered the inner hall, where Gebi was pacing anxiously. The moment she saw him, relief washed over her face. “You’re finally back!”  

“What’s wrong?” A sense of foreboding gripped him.  

“Something happened at the Laundry Courtyard. I was worried you might be in danger—I’m so glad you’re safe.” Gebi patted her ample chest, a gesture that made Song Qingzhu’s eyebrows twitch. “Ping’er is being blamed for the incident. Though the Emperor didn’t punish her harshly, you know how proud she is—she must be devastated. I tried comforting her, but it didn’t help. She’s always listened to her brother-in-law the most. Please find a chance to talk to her.”  

“Alright,” Song Qingzhu sighed inwardly, surprised. It seemed Wanyan Ping hadn’t told her sister the truth. Gebi wanted him to console her, unaware that her sister had already severed ties with him.  

“By the way… was the Laundry Courtyard incident your doing?” Gebi suddenly eyed him suspiciously. Given his status as a wanted fugitive in both the Jin and Song Dynasties, it wouldn’t be strange for someone like him to orchestrate such a thing.  

“Of course not.” Since Wanyan Ping had chosen to keep silent, Song Qingzhu hesitated but ultimately didn’t reveal the full truth. Still, it wasn’t entirely a lie—the attack had been carried out by Wanyan Liang and Zhao Min’s forces. He had merely rescued the Song princesses from them.  

The thought of Zhao Min made him frown. She had appeared out of nowhere, with no trace of her presence beforehand. “Where was she hiding?”  

During their brief reunion, both had tactfully avoided the question—she didn’t know he was disguised as Tang Kuo Bian, and he had no idea where she was staying.  

Their relationship was peculiar—more intimate than mere enemies, yet not quite friends, given their opposing allegiances. Still, as clever individuals, they maintained a delicate balance: privately, they could be close, but in matters of duty, they remained wary adversaries.  

‘Good thing I’ve been operating under Tang Kuo Bian’s identity—otherwise, I might’ve fallen into Zhao Min’s schemes without realizing it.’ Song Qingzhu remained vigilant. 

Though she claimed to be in the capital to investigate Murong Jingyue, he suspected it was merely a cover. If that were truly her goal, she wouldn’t have brought only the Xuanming Elders—two experts sufficient for protection but hardly enough to capture someone of Murong Jingyue’s caliber. Zhao Min never acted without certainty, so she must have another objective.  

Though not entirely sure, Song Qingzhu had a rough idea: as a representative of Mongol interests, she wouldn’t want a united and powerful Jin Dynasty. The best way to destabilize it would be to exploit the ongoing power struggle for the throne.  

If he could sense the undercurrents of the succession crisis, Zhao Min certainly could. The real question was—”which prince was she backing?”  

It couldn’t be Wanyan Liang—otherwise, her forces wouldn’t have clashed with Ouyang Feng’s. Nor was it Prince Changsheng, Wanyan Yuan—framing him as the prime suspect by attacking the Laundry Courtyard would be too reckless. That narrowed the possibilities significantly. 

However, Song Qingzhu had been focused on the palace and Wanyan Liang, leaving him with little insight into the other princes.  

*****  

While Song Qingzhu was lost in thought, in a secluded courtyard of Prince Xu’s residence, Zhao Min was pondering a similar question:  

“Given the Laundry Courtyard incident, Song Qingzhu must have been hiding in the capital for a while. Yet I detected no trace of him. “Where is he?””  

‘Wanyan Liang? Impossible—he and Ouyang Feng were clearly separate factions. Wanyan Yuan? Unlikely—the Laundry Courtyard incident would only bring him trouble. That left the other princes…’  

Her head ached from speculation, but no answer came. Then, unbidden, the image of Song Qingzhu embracing Zhou Zhiruo flashed in her mind, darkening her expression.  

“They’re the rightful couple. I’m just an outsider.” She hurled a teacup to the ground, the shattering sound easing some of her frustration.  

The noise startled the maids outside, who rushed in. “My lady, do you need anything?”  

“Nothing. Leave.” Zhao Min waved them off. As she watched their retreating figures, an idea struck her. “Wait!”  

The maids halted, puzzled.  

“Who are the most famous beauties in the capital?” Zhao Min’s mind raced—Song Qingzhu was notoriously drawn to beautiful women. Perhaps this angle could lead her to him.  

The maids exchanged glances before cautiously replying, “There are many beauties in the capital, but none compare to you, my lady.”  

Zhao Min’s temper flared. “Answer properly. No flattery.”  

“Y-yes!” The maids hurriedly corrected themselves. “There are countless renowned beauties in the capital, of all ages. What kind are you asking about?”  

“Only the most famous ones,” Zhao Min clarified. Song Qingzhu surrounded himself with extraordinary women—ordinary beauties wouldn’t catch his eye. “Between their teens and thirties.”  

Having grown up among Mongol nobility, Zhao Min knew men’s varied tastes—some preferred young girls, but Song Qingzhu, though lustful, wasn’t “that” depraved. As for older women, thirty-something was likely his limit—he wouldn’t go for anyone past forty.  

Though their time together had been brief, Zhao Min had an uncanny understanding of his preferences.  

With the criteria set, the maids eagerly listed names:  

“Empress Pei Man is a great beauty.”  

“Her Majesty is beautiful, but Princess Gebi is the true number one beauty of the Jin Dynasty.”  

“But I’ve heard Prince Changsheng’s consort, Lady Taohua, rivals Princess Gebi in looks—even the Emperor praised her.”  

“The Grand Preceptor’s daughter-in-law, Pucha Alihu, was once the most beautiful woman in the realm.”  

“Alihu is a bit older now—compared to Princess Gebi and Lady Taohua, she’s at a disadvantage.”  

“But her daughter, Wanyan Chongjie, is said to surpass her. In a few years, she might outshine even the princess and the lady.”  

Zhao Min silently repeated the names: “Empress Pei Man, Princess Gebi, Lady Taohua, Pucha Alihu and her daughter… Anyone else?”  

The maids added:  

“Others are less prominent—like Lady Qiucao of the Pucha family…”  

“Princess Qiguo, Wanyan Ping.”  

“Prince Hailing’s consort.”  

“Our Prince Xu’s wife is also quite beautiful.”  

“Of course—they’re all well-known beauties in the capital.”  

Zhao Min’s frown deepened. ‘So many? Tracking Song Qingzhu through them will be a monumental task.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll start with the top three—Princess Gebi, Lady Taohua, and Wanyan Chongjie. Which one is he connected to?’