Flower Stealing Master

Song Qingshu was startled. He had no idea what arrangements Jia Sidao had made, and a faint sense of unease rose in his heart. He himself had arranged for Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang to intercept the prisoner. If they ended up clashing with Jia Sidao’s plans, things would get very troublesome.

“Are you done yet? We’re about to set off.” Not far away, Zhao Min said impatiently. She had always admired heroic figures and had no liking whatsoever for a dandy soaked in perfumed powder like Jia Baoyu. Moreover, she was now anxious to return and see her father. Seeing him drag on so fussily naturally didn’t earn him any good favor.

Jia Sidao frowned slightly, suppressing his displeasure as he said to him, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.” Originally, Lady Wang had intended to assign a maidservant and a young male attendant to accompany Jia Baoyu on the journey, but the Mongols had directly refused. Jia Sidao, preoccupied with his own scheme, also felt that extra people would only bring more trouble, so he didn’t insist.

Song Qingshu nodded and walked up to one of the large Mongolian horses. He couldn’t help but feel a bit conflicted: he had no idea whether that kid Jia Baoyu knew how to ride a horse, or how skilled he was. Now that Jia Sidao was watching from behind, if he slipped up, all their efforts would be wasted.

“What are you standing there for? Get on the horse!” Zhao Min urged impatiently again. Song Qingshu ground his teeth in frustration. *This little girl—doesn’t she know she might very well ruin your husband’s grand scheme?*

Perhaps her urging sharpened his wits. He immediately realized that if Jia Baoyu didn’t know how to ride, Jia Sidao would have already come forward to plead for leniency. Since he hadn’t spoken up, it meant the boy did know how to ride. However, since Jia Baoyu spent all his days immersed in women’s company, even if he could ride, his skill was certainly limited.

Having made up his mind, Song Qingshu put on a clumsy, awkward act as he climbed onto the horse, drawing another look of contempt from Zhao Min.

“Hyah!” Zhao Min couldn’t be bothered to spare him another glance. Her long legs squeezed the horse’s belly and she galloped off at the lead. The other Mongols also moved like the wind. Song Qingshu smiled wryly, steeled himself, and followed.

The Mongols clearly intended to make this Southern Song noble’s son suffer a bit. Each of them rode at breakneck speed, seemingly waiting for the moment he would fall off his horse. But to their surprise, Song Qingshu kept wobbling left and right on the horse’s back. Several times it looked like he was about to tumble down, but then his waist would straighten and he’d steady himself again. They couldn’t help but feel deeply disappointed.

Because the handover with the Southern Song officials had already been completed smoothly, the group encountered no obstacles leaving the city, saving them many complicated procedures. Before long, they had left Lin’an City.

Inside the city, Song Qingshu had worried that Jia Sidao’s spies might see through his act, so he deliberately performed poorly. Once they were outside the city, he had fewer concerns. After traveling for most of the day through nothing but desolate wilderness, he no longer needed to hide anything.

When the Mongolian delegation saw that Song Qingshu was gradually catching up, showing no sign of difficulty, they all turned to look at him with surprise. Even Zhao Min looked back and gave him a long, deep glance. How could they know that Song Qingshu, after all, was a man who had been on battlefields? Riding was practically second nature to him.

“Now that’s a bit more like a man,” Zhao Min muttered softly to herself. She spurred her horse to greater speed. Anxious to return home, she had abandoned the comfort of carriages or large ships for the fastest and most demanding method: riding.

The group continued on their way. When the people tired, they drank and ate dried provisions on horseback. When the horses tired, they switched to the spare horses they had brought along. In half a day’s travel, they had already put a hundred *li* between themselves and Lin’an City.

Song Qingshu clicked his tongue in amazement. No wonder the Mongolian army moved like the wind—this was a clear glimpse of why. But the Central Plains dynasties couldn’t imitate it even if they wanted to. Every Mongolian soldier was a born knight, having grown up on horseback. Moreover, each rider was equipped with three fine horses, which they rotated at intervals to ensure the animals always had peak stamina. Where could the Central Plains dynasties ever find such a reserve of warhorses?

At the same time, Song Qingshu was deeply worried. Although Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang had set out ahead, the Mongols were so fast—he didn’t know if they had finished their preparations yet.

Spotting a tea stall in the distance, Song Qingshu’s heart leaped with joy. He tugged on the reins and deliberately called out, “Let’s stop for some tea. I really can’t go on much longer.”

Zhao Min frowned. Beside her, the Vajra Sect Master also said, “Commander, we’ve been traveling for half a day. It’s time for a rest.”

“The Sect Master doesn’t seem very worried about my father’s illness,” Zhao Min said thoughtfully.

The Vajra Sect Master’s expression changed. He quickly replied, “How could that be? My loyalty to Prince Ruyang is as clear as the heavens. It’s just that we’ve been traveling a long time, and everyone is tired. Eating something won’t take much time.”

At the same time, he silently lamented his misfortune. Though his martial arts were high, he was advanced in age, and this grueling pace was truly uncomfortable. Thinking that the journey to the northern desert was tens of thousands of *li*, he regretted deeply not having declined this assignment. *That old Daoist Baishang must have anticipated this situation all along and deliberately goaded me into coming.*

Zhao Min suddenly thought of something. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips. “Very well. Everyone dismount. We’ll rest at that tea stall ahead for one *shichen*.”

“One whole *shichen*?” The accompanying Mongolian guards exchanged bewildered glances. They had been riding so urgently, and now they were going to rest for an entire *shichen*? Wasn’t that a bit too extravagant? But Zhao Min had always been wise, and her subordinates trusted her deeply, so no one raised any objection.

After seeing to the horses, the group entered the tea stall. It wasn’t very large to begin with, and once they were all inside, the entire place was packed.

Zhao Min naturally took the best seat. Although the Vajra Sect Master held a revered position, he ordinarily wouldn’t have been qualified to sit at the same table as her. But since Zhao Min apparently had questions for him, she specifically called him over to sit with her.

Song Qingshu had also been hoping to sidle over there. Even if he couldn’t do anything, smelling the fragrance on Zhao Min’s body would be far more pleasant than smelling the sweat of these men. Unfortunately, Zhao Min thought nothing of him and showed no intention of inviting him to her table. He could only dejectedly sit at a neighboring table with the Xuanming Elders.

Curious about what Zhao Min and the Sect Master were discussing, Song Qingshu pricked up his ears as soon as he sat down.

He heard Zhao Min say, “Sect Master, my father probably isn’t sick, is he?”

Song Qingshu was stunned, then suddenly understood. *No wonder she’s been so anxious all the way—she thought her father was gravely ill.*

The Vajra Sect Master’s expression shifted slightly. He gave an awkward laugh. “Commander, what makes you say that?”

Zhao Min said calmly, “I was so worried that I couldn’t think straight and never examined the matter carefully. It wasn’t until just now, when I saw the Sect Master struggling a bit with this forced march, that I realized the truth.”

“And what’s the problem with that?” The Vajra Sect Master looked bewildered.

Zhao Min replied, “If my father truly were ill, the Prince could have simply sent any rider to deliver the message. Why trouble a man of the Sect Master’s stature to make such a journey in person? After thinking it over, the most likely reason the Prince sent you is because he feared I wouldn’t return. He needed your martial prowess and authority to forcibly bring me back. If my father were genuinely ill, how could I possibly refuse to return?”

The Vajra Sect Master laughed heartily. “The Commander is indeed peerlessly quick-witted. You’re right—Prince Ruyang is not sick.” There was no longer any need for him to hide the truth. “The Prince was furious when he learned that you had come to the Southern Song under the false pretense of the Great Khan’s decree. He specifically sent me to bring you back before things escalated.”

He then reached into his robes, pulled out a golden token, and raised it for everyone to see. “The Prince has ordered the immediate escort of the Commander back to Prince Ruyang’s residence. No delays are permitted.”

The Xuanming Elders and the other guards exchanged glances before reluctantly rising to bow. Seeing the golden token was as good as seeing Prince Ruyang himself. Ultimately, Zhao Min’s authority was granted by Prince Ruyang, so they had no choice but to comply.

Song Qingshu was marveling at how quick-witted Zhao Min was—she had deduced the entire situation from a single small detail—when suddenly her command authority was stripped away. He could only sigh at the unpredictability of events.

Seeing Zhao Min’s expressionless face, the Vajra Sect Master felt a bit anxious. This young mistress was peerlessly clever, and he worried she might settle accounts with him later. He quickly tried to console her. “Actually, Commander, you needn’t be too concerned. That Song Qingshu’s martial arts are among the highest I’ve ever seen in my life. Moreover, judging by his appearance, he is by no means destined for an early death. I’m sure he’ll turn misfortune into good fortune this time as well.”

Hearing them mention his own name, Song Qingshu felt a surge of emotion. *So Zhao Min falsely transmitted the Mongolian Great Khan’s decree and came all the way to Jiangnan—all for my sake…*

Zhao Min’s expression softened slightly. She gave a light laugh. “Isn’t fortune-telling a Daoist’s trade? Since when does a Buddhist like the Sect Master know how to read faces?”

“The myriad things in the world are connected. I know a little, just a little.” The Vajra Sect Master laughed awkwardly.

“I wonder what this young lady would like to eat? Besides tea, we also have various Jiangnan specialty snacks,” said the proprietress of the tea stall, who had emerged to serve their table. Though she wore coarse homespun garments, they could not conceal the endless charm radiating from her mature, full figure. Who else could it be but Lan Fenghuang?

Zhao Min looked up at her, her expression changing abruptly before she let out a cold laugh. “With looks as outstanding as yours, why would you be selling tea in such a desolate, wild place like this?”

Song Qingshu’s face darkened. *In the original plan, Lan Fenghuang was supposed to drug most of them first, and then Zhou Zhiruo would “kidnap” me. Who knew Zhao Min would be even sharper than a fox and spot the flaw at a single glance.*

Lu Zhangke had been staring greedily at Lan Fenghuang’s curvaceous figure. Hearing this, he was overjoyed. “Allow me to seize her first, Commander, so you can interrogate her properly.” His form moved, and in an instant he was beside Lan Fenghuang.

Though she was the leader of a sect, Lan Fenghuang’s skills lay primarily in the use of poisons. Her martial arts were only average. Thus, as soon as Lu Zhangke’s hand shot out, he had already seized her arm.

Lu Zhangke was secretly delighted. He was about to reach out and stroke her milky-white skin when he suddenly felt something furry on his hand. It was a spider—larger than any he had ever seen in his life. The long hairs on its legs plainly declared it to be extremely venomous.

Lu Zhangke let out a startled cry and shook his hand in fright, retreating even faster than he had advanced.

Seeing his elder brother in trouble, He Biweng immediately pounced forward. Having learned from Lu Zhangke’s lesson, he dared not touch her with his bare hands. Instead, he brandished his Crane-Beak Brush and pointed it at Lan Fenghuang from a distance.

Lan Fenghuang’s expression shifted. She scattered a handful of poisonous powder and retreated. He Biweng waved his palm, and the force of his Xuanming Divine Palm deflected the powder aside. He then pushed off with his toe and continued his attack without pause, aiming for Lan Fenghuang.

Just as Lan Fenghuang seemed to have no means of escape, a green shadow flashed. A long whip lashed out to meet him head-on. Alarmed, He Biweng leaped back to evade. The whip cracked forward with incredible speed, striking again and again. He Biweng was forced back three steps, but the whip’s technique was so bizarre and unpredictable that within three strikes, he found himself encircled.

When she saw the face of the person wielding the whip, a faint smile curled at the corner of Zhao Min’s lips. “Things are getting more and more interesting.”

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