Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 888: Turning the Pillow-Side Ally

Wanyan Liang’s face immediately showed hesitation. He glanced around furtively before stammering, “This…”

Wanyan Yuan grew frantic. “Brother Hailing, given our friendship, surely you won’t stand by and watch me die? Didn’t we agree at Qiuxiang Tower to advance and retreat together?”

Wanyan Liang hurriedly tugged his sleeve. “Keep your voice down! If these words reach the Emperor’s ears, I’ll be in deep trouble too. And then there’d be no one left to help you.”

“Brother, I’ve been at my wits’ end lately. Give me some advice—should I attend today’s banquet or not?” Wanyan Yuan pressed anxiously.

“Of course you must go. It’s the Emperor’s birthday. If you skip it and the censors impeach you, the Emperor will have the perfect excuse he’s been looking for!” Wanyan Liang hesitated before lowering his voice further. “But though you must go, be cautious. It’s best if you don’t drink any wine today.”

“What do you mean?” Wanyan Yuan froze, not quite grasping the implication.

“History is littered with princes and nobles who met their end by poison…” Seeing Wanyan Yuan’s face drain of color, Wanyan Liang knew he had struck the right chord. He quickly added, “There’s much I can’t say openly. Just be careful, brother.”

Despite the turmoil in his heart, Wanyan Yuan managed a grateful expression. “Thank you, Brother.”

As he watched Wanyan Yuan’s unsteady retreating figure, Wanyan Liang sneered inwardly: All my brothers in this generation are nothing but cowards. Not a single one compares to me.

Tudan Jing, seeing Wanyan Yuan leave, approached from the side. “Your Highness, what did he say to you?”

“Nothing much, just some complaints,” Wanyan Liang replied with a smile.

Tudan Jing frowned worriedly. “Lately, the Emperor has made it clear he intends to make an example of him. Aren’t you afraid of getting burned by associating with him so closely?”

“Don’t worry, I know my limits.” As he spoke, Wanyan Liang reached for his wife’s hand, only for her to instinctively pull away.

Noticing her husband’s stunned expression, Tudan Jing quickly explained, “Someone’s coming.”

Wanyan Liang turned to see Tang Kuo Bian approaching with Gebi in tow.

“Your Highness, it’s been a while.” Song Qingshu clasped his hands in greeting, his gaze sweeping over Tudan Jing. The Hailing Consort immediately lowered her head, her fair skin flushing pink as she appeared visibly unsettled.

“Brother Tang Kuo!” Wanyan Liang returned the courtesy, though his eyes kept drifting toward Gebi. She wore an elegant emerald-green palace gown that accentuated her graceful figure, making her stand out like a radiant bloom among ordinary flowers. Even his own wife, Tudan Jing—a renowned beauty in her own right—paled in comparison beside her.

Initially, Wanyan Liang had felt somewhat cheated after sacrificing his wife’s purity that night. But now, beholding this peerlessly enchanting woman and recalling how she had surrendered beneath him, he decided it had been more than worth it. Of course, if he knew the truth—that it had actually been a courtesan—he’d probably cough up blood in rage.

The two couples chatted as they entered the palace. Though their conversation remained formal, each harbored their own thoughts.

Wanyan Liang contemplated when he might arrange another “exchange” with Tang Kuo Bian to relive that night’s passion. Yet, with his plans at a critical juncture, he found himself torn—there simply wasn’t enough time.

Tudan Jing, meanwhile, seemed distracted. Throughout the walk, she couldn’t shake the sensation of a scorching gaze upon her, reminding her of that night’s thrilling encounter. Had the setting been different, her legs might have already given way.

Gebi smiled politely, but her heart was ice-cold. ‘Wogula, I will avenge you. I’ll make sure Wanyan Liang loses his wife, his family, everything.’

Song Qingshu, on the other hand, was replaying Wanyan Liang’s words to Wanyan Yuan in his mind. Though he had been standing at a distance, his keen senses allowed him to eavesdrop effortlessly.

‘Would Wanyan Liang really be so kind as to warn Wanyan Yuan?’ Song Qingshu frowned, sensing something amiss—but for now, the puzzle eluded him.

The banquet was held in the Hall of Benevolent Governance, where eunuchs and maids bustled about preparing the arrangements. Nobles and ministers mingled in small groups, chatting amiably.

After entering the hall, Wanyan Liang suddenly announced, “My dear, keep them company for a while. I have some business to attend to.”

“Wait—” Tudan Jing reached out to stop him, but he was already striding away without giving her a chance to object. The thought of being left alone with that man made her skin crawl. Worse still, since the banquet was held within the palace, all guards had been left outside—leaving her feeling utterly defenseless.

With Wanyan Liang gone, the atmosphere grew palpably tense. Tudan Jing avoided Song Qingshu’s gaze, yet guilt gnawed at her whenever she looked at Gebi. ‘If not for my husband’s depravity, she wouldn’t have lost her virtue that night.’

Gebi, meanwhile, observed the flustered consort with quiet amusement. ‘She doesn’t realize I already know the truth.’ Watching Tudan Jing struggle to maintain a composed façade while making small talk filled her with grim satisfaction. ‘Wogula, do you see this? Wanyan Liang coveted me, but in the end, it was his own wife who paid the price. If your spirit watches from above, you must be laughing now.’

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Gebi stood. “Husband, please accompany the Consort for a while. I wish to greet some old acquaintances in the palace.”

As a princess raised within these walls, her excuse was perfectly reasonable. Though Tudan Jing dreaded being left alone with Song Qingshu, she could hardly protest. She could only watch helplessly as Gebi, too, departed.

Recalling the playful wink Gebi had secretly flashed him before leaving, Song Qingshu sighed inwardly. ‘She’s usually so gentle and kind, but when it comes to revenge, she’s downright devious.’

“Consort, since the banquet hasn’t begun yet, why don’t we take a stroll outside?” Song Qingshu needed to plant a pawn beside Wanyan Liang—and Tudan Jing was the perfect candidate. Now that he had her alone, he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip.

Tudan Jing’s heart skipped a beat. She instinctively retreated a step, shaking her head. “N-no, I should wait here for His Highness to return.”

Song Qingshu ignored her refusal, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. “His Highness won’t be back so soon. Besides, didn’t he say you should keep me company?”

The moment his fingers closed around hers, Tudan Jing nearly fainted from terror. She glanced around frantically, her face burning with humiliation and panic. “Let go!”

Song Qingshu merely chuckled, undeterred, and continued leading her out.

“If you don’t release me this instant, I’ll scream!” Tudan Jing’s heart pounded wildly. If anyone witnessed their current state, she would be doomed beyond redemption.

“By all means, scream if you wish.” His grip remained firm, showing no intention of relenting.

Nearby, a few heads turned at the commotion. Tudan Jing, on the verge of tears, whispered desperately, “Fine, I’ll go with you! Just let go!”

Song Qingshu smiled and finally released her. The moment she was free, she yanked her hand back as if scalded. 

Just then, some passing courtiers recognized her and greeted her warmly. “Ah, Consort Hailing! Where is His Highness?”

Tudan Jing recognized them as her husband’s usual allies. Her pulse raced even faster. Taking a few steadying breaths, she forced a smile. “His Highness stepped away for a moment. He’ll return shortly…”

After navigating a gauntlet of such encounters, she realized with a start that Song Qingshu had led her to a secluded spot. Cold sweat had long since soaked through her undergarments, and the chill breeze made her shiver uncomfortably.

“The Consort is quite the actress,” Song Qingshu remarked with an amused smirk.

Ignoring his sarcasm, Tudan Jing hissed, “Didn’t we agree that after that night, we’d have nothing more to do with each other? Why are you harassing me again?”

Song Qingshu shrugged. “That was your wish, not mine. I never agreed to anything.”

“Then what do you want by dragging me out here?” She glanced around nervously, terrified that a passing eunuch or maid might spot them. Palace gossip was vicious—even innocent encounters could be twisted beyond recognition, let alone one as compromising as theirs.

“What do I want?” A sly grin curled his lips as he stepped forward, encircling her slender waist and pulling her flush against him. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, “What else? I want you, Consort.”

Tudan Jing’s mind blanked. Never in her life had a man dared to be so brazen with her. Yet, despite the crude vulgarity of his words, an inexplicable thrill shot through her.

“Have you lost your mind?” Reason finally prevailed, and she shoved him away, staring at him in shock.

“Not at all.” Undeterred, he reached for her again.

“Do you even know where we are? This is the imperial palace! If anyone sees us, it’ll mean execution for our entire clans!”

“That’s exactly what makes it so thrilling.” He tugged her toward a nearby thicket. “Relax, no one comes here.”

“Let go!” She tried prying his fingers loose, but despite her efforts, his grip didn’t budge.

“If you cooperate, we can finish quickly. The longer you resist, the higher the chance we’ll be discovered.” He turned to fix her with a meaningful look. “Either way, I will have you again today. The choice is yours—compliance or delay.”