Flower Stealing Master

Feeling the change in him, Qi Fang’s body gave a small shiver. She said, a little flustered, “You’re… you’re too close.”

Song Qingshu smiled, entirely unembarrassed. “The weather’s dreadfully cold tonight. Sleeping pressed together is the only way to stay warm.”

Qi Fang couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him. ‘Cold? What cold?’ She knew perfectly well it was an excuse — and yet she found, to her own bafflement, that she had no idea how to argue back.

“Ahn~”

When his hand began to wander slowly upward from her midriff, Qi Fang let out an involuntary soft m0an. Even in the darkness she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, her breathing coming apart.

Song Qingshu murmured against her earlobe: “If you don’t want this, just say so. I won’t push you.”

“I…” Qi Fang opened her mouth, then found she had nothing to say. She had a husband, yes — but that man had gotten Di Yun killed, and was now scheming coldly to have her eliminated as well. Was there any reason left to keep herself faithful to him?

If Di Yun were still alive, then even knowing the truth about Wan Gui, she might not have abandoned herself like this. But learning that her childhood sweetheart — her senior brother, who had grown up beside her — had been killed because of her, Qi Fang had found herself suddenly unable to see the point of anything.

And if this could also be a way of striking back at her husband — the thought cut through her shame, and she let the m@n at her back do as he pleased with her.

Song Qingshu had expected Qi Fang to refuse — or at least put up some token resistance. When she simply stayed silent and yielded without a word, he was briefly taken aback, and then he understood. Words of comfort would have been hollow and thin. He could only comfort her in his own way — he ki$$ed her gently, then lifted the hem of her skirt and drew her close…

Qi Fang’s b0dy stiffened. Her hair came loose around her flushed face, her red lips caught a strand of it between her teeth. 

She pressed back, quietly meeting him…

*****

The days that followed were a world apart from the misery of his first two. Song Qingshu settled comfortably into the easy rhythm of the journey.

Qi Fang made full use of her standing as the Minister’s household young mistress. Innkeeper Du, convinced he had made a connection with the Minister’s family, was beside himself with delight and treated her like a living ancestor — and Song Qingshu, by association, received the treatment of an absolute VIP.

Qi Fang had the uppermost cabin to herself, and the others rarely came up. On the rare occasions someone did, Song Qingshu would disguise himself as Sixi — not as Wang Er, because Qi Fang had objected strenuously, given what that man had put her through.

Innkeeper Du soon noticed that two members of their party had gone missing, but such things were commonplace among the households of the great and powerful, and he had no desire to invite trouble by asking. He carried on as though Taohong and Wang Er had never existed, devoting himself entirely to the comfort of his distinguished guest.

“Crucian carp soup again.” Qi Fang sat at the table, eyeing the fragrant bowl before her with a pout. Carp broth was delicious, but every single day? Anyone would grow tired of it.

Song Qingshu wrapped his arms around her from behind, grinning. “Carp soup builds up milk supply, my lady. You need to keep your strength up. How about I share it with you — one sip for you, one sip for me?”

Qi Fang gave an exasperated huff. “Kongxincai hasn’t had a single drop, and it all ends up going to you.”

Song Qingshu gave her a light, appreciative squeeze. “Blame that cold-hearted husband of yours. If not for him, I would never have had to detoxify myself this way.”

With Qi Fang’s help, the pace of his poison-purging had accelerated noticeably. Over the past few days he had managed to drive out roughly one-tenth of the Heavenly Devil Flower’s toxin — remarkable, given that before, forcing out even a single drop of tainted blood had been a struggle. At this rate, another month or two and his body would be entirely clean.

“Don’t bring that man up!” Qi Fang’s expression iced over. She gave a cold sniff. “He’s worthless — but you’re not much better.”

Song Qingshu said, aggrieved: “That’s rather ungrateful, my lady. Whatever my many faults, at least I’ve spared you the daily misery of epressing by hand. Before, you had to sit there with a bowl and —”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Qi Fang let out a sharp cry and clapped her hand over his mouth.

“Fine, I won’t say another word. Then will you drink the soup?” Song Qingshu’s eyes curved like a fox’s.

“You are absolutely insufferable~” Qi Fang sighed with feeling — but she picked up the bowl and drank it to the last drop.

Song Qingshu whispered something in her ear. 

The tips of Qi Fang’s ears turned crimson on the spot. Before she could respond, he reached forward and undid her c0llar, then buried his face against her…

*****

That evening, lying together in the warmth of the quilt, Qi Fang bit her lip and said quietly: “We reach Lin’an tomorrow.”

She wasn’t sure why, but these past few days — absurd as they were — had been the most carefree, unburdened she had felt in years. And all of that ease was about to dissolve the moment Lin’an came into view.

Reality was reasserting itself. She knew that the moment she returned, Wan Qili, Wan Gui, and the rest would realise at once that their plan had gone wrong, and would move to find another way to be rid of her.

Going back to the Minister’s estate was walking into her own death. Yet she had no choice. A mother’s love gave her no way to abandon her daughter — to leave her daughter growing up surrounded by wolves.

“So?” Song Qingshu’s fingers moved idly over the soft pale curve of her skin, his expression somewhere between a smile and not.

Qi Fang nearly choked on his indifference. She reached over and pinched him hard. “You! All you ever do is bully me!”

Song Qingshu cried for mercy. “Then shall we elope?”

“Elope?” Those two words seemed to hold an almost magical pull for a woman — Qi Fang’s heart gave a sudden leap, as though she’d been transported back to the wistful daydreams of girlhood. But the thought of her daughter brought her back to herself at once. She shook her head with a forlorn look. “A few years ago, I might have said yes. But now there’s too much I can’t leave behind.”

Song Qingshu smiled. “You’ve misunderstood me. I’m not saying I won’t help you rescue Kongxincai. Only that the poison in my body isn’t fully cleared yet, and if you go back to the Minister’s estate right now, I can’t guarantee I can protect you properly. So what if we find somewhere to lie low first — and once the toxin is gone, we go back together and get your daughter out? How does that sound?”

“When it comes down to it, you’re just using me as your…your…” Qi Fang’s face reddened and the words refused to come out.

“As my what?” Song Qingshu asked, teasing.

“You know perfectly well what I mean.” Qi Fang turned away with a huff, quite unable to say the words aloud.

Song Qingshu was about to make her squirm a little more when the sound of screaming and the clash of blades suddenly erupted somewhere on the ship. The two of them stared at each other — and turned as one toward the window. Outside, the black night sky had been stained red with fire.

“Get dressed. Quickly.” He gave the order to Qi Fang, then leaped out of bed and crossed to the window to look out. What he saw stopped him cold.

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