Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 920: A Midnight Invitation

Seeing her agree, Song Qingshu couldn’t help but grin. 

As he left, he waved at them: “I’ll take my leave first. You two carry on, carry on.”  

Pucha Shijie nearly choked on his fury at that shameless, gloating expression. If not for the fact that the man was the commander of this operation, he might have lunged forward to teach him what a fist the size of a sand bowl felt like.  

Wanyan Ping stood to the side, her lips twitching as she fought the urge to whip him on the spot.  

“You actually like a man like that?” Pucha Shijie pointed at Song Qingshu’s retreating figure, disbelief written all over his face.  

Wanyan Ping replied coldly, “It’s not him I like.”  

“Isn’t he your brother-in-law? Even now, you still won’t admit it?” Pucha Shijie felt as though his heart was being torn apart.  

Wanyan Ping was also frustrated. The truth was, this “brother-in-law” was actually Song Qingshu in disguise—but she couldn’t exactly blurt that out to outsiders. After a long pause, she still couldn’t think of a proper explanation, so she simply gave up. “Think whatever you want.”  

Seeing her indifferent attitude, Pucha Shijie had no choice but to change the subject. “Are you really going to his tent tonight?”  

“Of course.” Wanyan Ping recalled how Song Qingshu had sought her out earlier to ask her something, only for her to walk away before he could. He must have arranged this meeting to finish that conversation. Naturally, she had no interest in explaining any of this to an outsider.  

“You’re actually going?” Pucha Shijie grew agitated. “A man and a woman alone in the middle of the night—how improper!”  

“He’s my brother-in-law, my family. What’s wrong with talking?” Wanyan Ping frowned.  

Pucha Shijie choked on his words before finally sputtering, “If it’s just talking, why can’t it wait until daytime? He must have ulterior motives!”  

“And what if he does?” Wanyan Ping gave him a strange look. “I don’t mind.” With that, she turned and left, leaving Pucha Shijie standing there, utterly bewildered.  

“I don’t mind… don’t mind…” Those last words echoed in Pucha Shijie’s ears like a critical hit, dealing him ten thousand points of emotional damage.  

*****

Night soon fell. 

Wanyan Ping paced restlessly in her tent. Though she had acted nonchalant in front of Pucha Shijie, now that the moment had arrived, her thoughts began to race. ‘What if he really tries something? Should I resist… or not?’  

On one hand, they had already been intimate—so resisting seemed somewhat pointless. But on the other hand, a voice in her head reminded her that she had only allowed it because she thought he was her brother-in-law. Now that she knew the truth, she couldn’t just let him have his way.  

Finally making up her mind, she tucked a dagger into her skirt. ‘If he dares lay a hand on me, I’ll cut it off!’ The thought eased her nerves, and she strode out with renewed confidence.  

***** 

Song Qingshu was reading in his tent when he heard hesitant footsteps outside. He chuckled. “Ping’er? Since you’re already here, why hesitate to come in?”  

“Hmph! Who’s hesitating?” Caught red-handed, Wanyan Ping barged in. “And stop calling me ‘Ping’er’ like we’re close!”  

Song Qingshu pretended to think for a moment before nodding. “Well, I’ve touched every inch of your body. By that measure, I’d say we’re quite close.”  

Wanyan Ping hadn’t expected such shamelessness. Trembling with rage, she snapped, “Don’t bring that up! You tricked me, and I still haven’t settled that score with you!”  

“Which factions are heading to Chongyang Palace this time?” Song Qingshu smoothly changed the subject.  

“What?” The sudden shift left her momentarily stunned.  

He repeated the question, then added, “This is important. It could determine whether I succeed in avenging your sister.”  

Though furious, the gravity of his words forced her to answer. “From the Laundry Courtyard, there’s me, Pucha Shijie—who you met earlier—and Pushan Hutuo. Then there’s Vice Commander Pucha Ahute, whom you’ve also seen. He brought some of his men, and I heard his daughter Qiucao is with them, supposedly for leisure, though I haven’t seen her. Besides them, Wanyan Liang sent his trusted aide, Tudan Zhen, with a unit to act as overseers.”  

Song Qingshu nodded. ‘That makes sense.’ If he were Wanyan Liang, he wouldn’t trust this group to operate unsupervised either. Sending Tudan Zhen, the chief of the Four Great Guards, was clearly a precaution against the army suddenly turning back toward the capital.  

Noticing his prolonged silence, Wanyan Ping huffed. “Hey, are you done with your questions?”  

“Just one more.” Song Qingshu smiled at her. “If I recall correctly, you were wearing tight-fitting trousers earlier. Now you’ve changed into such a lovely skirt—was it for me?”  

Wanyan Ping froze, then flushed crimson. Truthfully, she hadn’t even realized it herself. Her earlier hesitation had been about whether to come at all—she hadn’t even noticed she’d changed clothes!  

“Don’t flatter yourself! I dressed up for my own sake!” she retorted, cheeks burning.  

“What a shame.” Song Qingshu sighed. “I do miss that sweet, obedient girl from before.”  

“Ugh! You took advantage of me! If you hadn’t pretended to be my brother-in-law, I’d never have…” The memory of that night—her submission, her passion—made her wish the ground would swallow her whole.  

“But your brother-in-law entrusted his women to me before he died. If you don’t believe me, your sister has the blood-written testament,” Song Qingshu countered. “Since you consider yourself his woman, that now makes you mine.”  

Wanyan Ping’s head spun from his twisted logic. She knew the blood testament was real, and though something felt off, she couldn’t articulate why. “You’re just twisting words!”  

“How so?” He grinned. “Legally, you belong to me. In practice, your body is already mine. The only thing left is your heart—but don’t worry, I’m confident I’ll win that soon too.”  

Wanyan Ping laughed in exasperation. “I’ve never met someone so shameless!”  

Song Qingshu shrugged. “A man with thin skin never wins a woman’s heart. All things considered, I’d rather be shameless.”  

“Ugh!” Wanyan Ping felt that if she stayed any longer, she’d faint from rage. She turned to leave.  

“Where do you think you’re going?” Song Qingshu called after her.  

“Back to my tent to rest, obviously!” She glared at him, baffled.  

Song Qingshu shook his head. “Stay here tonight. Keep me company.”