Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 944: The Lion’s Pride Theory

Xiao Yu was utterly dumbfounded. By now, it was clear to him that Song Qingshu was truly interested not in Prince Xu, Wanyan Yong, nor the Mongol Princess Zhao Min, but in Murong Jingyue.

“At… at that time, saving him was just a trivial act for me. I didn’t… didn’t take his words to heart, so I… I don’t remember the exact location he mentioned back then.” Xiao Yu’s back was drenched in cold sweat. He had considered making up an excuse to deceive him, but the moment he met Song Qingshu’s gaze, he felt as though he were being seen through inside and out. How could he dare play any tricks?

“You don’t remember?” Song Qingshu was so frustrated he could hardly contain himself. How was this any different from saying nothing at all?

Xiao Yu knew that relying on such vague information to save his life was difficult, so he hurriedly added, “Although I don’t remember the exact location, I do recall that the place he mentioned was within Shangjing of the Liao Dynasty!”

In the end, Song Qingshu spared Xiao Yu’s life but did not let him go, as he might still be of use in the future.

“Shangjing?” Song Qingshu watched Xiao Yu’s retreating figure, lost in thought. Logically speaking, Murong Jingyue was a despicable and shameless individual—a thoroughgoing villain. It was hard to imagine such a person understanding gratitude.

However, based on Xiao Yu’s account of that time, it seemed Murong Jingyue had been at his lowest point. Receiving help from someone in his most desperate moment was a kindness he would likely remember for life. Though Murong Jingyue was a villain, he was still human, with all the emotions that entailed.

Moreover, judging from his disguise as Ping Yizhi, it was highly probable he had other false identities. Shangjing of the Liao Dynasty was far from the Central Plains, away from the influence of both the Murong family and the Poison King. For Murong Jingyue, it was the perfect hiding place!

Considering that, after all this time, neither Bing Xue’er nor the Murong family, not even the resourceful Ruyang Prince’s Palace, had uncovered any concrete information about his whereabouts, Song Qingshu realized his hiding place was anything but ordinary. As the saying goes, “Small hermits hide in the wilderness, medium hermits hide in the city, and great hermits hide in the court.” Song Qingshu even suspected that Murong Jingyue might be hiding within the Liao Dynasty’s imperial court.

Unfortunately, Song Qingshu was currently stretched too thin to personally investigate Shangjing. Instead, he secretly wrote a letter, including a unique code the two of them used for communication, and sent it to the Ruyang Prince’s Palace. He informed Zhao Min of the situation and asked her to go to Shangjing first to verify the lead.

After all, Song Qingshu was no longer living just for himself. He was now responsible for the lives and futures of a great many people.

There was a series of matters to handle in the Jin Dynasty, and he had already been there for a long time. He also wondered how things were progressing with the Golden Serpent Camp. Then there was Li Kexiu, who controlled a hundred thousand Green Battalion troops in Jianghuai. He had previously sent Ah Jiu and Jiao Wan’er, one openly and one secretly, to investigate, but he didn’t know how far they had gotten. He needed to find time to go and see for himself as soon as possible.

At times like this, he felt grateful for having found several remarkable confidantes who were both capable and beautiful. Dongfang Muxue was holding down the fort in the Qing Dynasty, while Xia Qingqing and Ah Jiu managed the Golden Serpent Camp with meticulous order. Su Quan and Fang Yi oversaw the Mystic Dragon Cult… Without their help, even if he worked without rest, he doubted he could have accomplished so much.

Song Qingshu sometimes even entertained a rather mischievous thought, one he’d never share with others: he could learn from the lions of Africa—establish a vast “pride” and let his “pride” conquer the plains.

Chuckling to himself, Song Qingshu shook off these whimsical thoughts and turned his mind to a more pressing issue. He couldn’t stay in the Jin Dynasty forever, so who would manage affairs here after he left?

Empress Pei Man was an excellent candidate—capable and experienced. If entrusted with the task, she would undoubtedly manage the Jin Dynasty with great efficiency. Unfortunately, she was also fiercely power-hungry. Their cooperation was, at best, a transaction of mutual benefit, hardly built on genuine trust or affection.

If he dared entrust the Jin Dynasty to her, within a few months, it would likely slip entirely from his control. Song Qingshu was well aware of this. The optimal solution for dealing with Empress Pei Man would be to eliminate her—either by using the Emperor’s influence or taking advantage of the chaos during Wanyan Liang’s coup to kill her. Historically, Empress Pei Man had died at the emperor’s hands.

However, Song Qingshu was not a cold-blooded person. He couldn’t bring himself to harm a woman with whom he had been intimate. Yet, he also wouldn’t let personal feelings blind him to potential threats. So, he had used Wanyan Liang’s coup to purge her influence both inside and outside the palace. Now, all she had left was her title as empress, with no chance of manipulating court politics as she once did.

Compared to Empress Pei Man, Gebi was far more trustworthy. Now that her husband, Tang Kuo Bian, was dead, and after spending this time together, their bond—both emotional and practical—was firmly established. However, Gebi was too gentle and kind-hearted, likely struggling to navigate the complexities of court politics.

As for Pucha Alihu, her years of patience and successful elimination of Wanyan Zonggan proved her a highly capable woman. Yet, Song Qingshu’s relationship with her and her daughter wasn’t close enough to entrust them with such a significant responsibility.

Then there was Madame Tang… Well, a beautiful but useless woman should know her place. Besides, she was still another man’s wife—hardly someone he could recruit to handle his affairs. (G: how cold.)

Song Qingshu racked his brains but couldn’t find a perfect candidate. In the end, he decided to temporarily assign this heavy responsibility to Gebi. With her sister Wanyan Ping assisting diligently, supplemented by support from Pucha Alihu and Empress Pei Man, they should be able to manage.

*****

A few days later, the court approved the Ministry of Justice’s recommendation, and Wanyan Liang was publicly executed for treason. 

Song Qingshu did not attend the execution, nor did Chongjie and her mother, or Gebi and her sister. After all, the revenge they sought had already been exacted within the palace.

Song Qingshu silently watched as Gebi and Wanyan Ping paid their respects at Tang Kuo Bian’s memorial. Then, he told them of his plans to leave.

“What? You’re leaving?” Gebi exclaimed, immediately realizing her reaction was too strong. She glanced cautiously at her sister, noticing her similarly distracted expression.

Song Qingshu smiled wryly. “I’ve already spent too much time in the Jin Dynasty. There are many matters awaiting my attention elsewhere, particularly the situation with the separatist Li Kexiu in Jianghuai.”

“But what will happen to the court’s situation once you’re gone?” Wanyan Ping suddenly asked. Currently, everything relied on him impersonating the emperor. If he left, how could the truth of the emperor’s death possibly remain hidden?

“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you,” Song Qingshu said, taking a few masks from his robe and placing them before the sisters. “These are masks I made. Try them on.”