Flower Stealing Master

Feeling Cheng Ying’s struggle, Song Qingshu quickly said, “Don’t move. If Miss Lu’s wound shifts, everything we’ve done will be ruined.”

Only then did Cheng Ying realize that her cousin was unconscious. If she got up rashly, she might dislodge the freshly set bone. Terrified, she dared not move and lay still.

“Just bear with it a moment, Miss Cheng. I’m almost done opening Miss Lu’s meridians,” Song Qingshu said. He was at a critical point with the One Yang Finger and dared not be distracted.

“Mm.” Cheng Ying’s acknowledgment was softer than a mosquito’s buzz.

The faint fragrance of a young woman drifted to his nose. Even Song Qingshu, who had wandered through many gardens of delight, felt his heart stir. Holding two beautiful young women in his arms at once, with one of their faces pressed against his lap, thinking of Cheng Ying’s usual pure elegance and natural grace, he felt an uncontrollable heat rise from his lower belly.

Cheng Ying had already been mortified by her position. Suddenly, she felt something hard pressing against her cheek. She was puzzled. *What is this? It wasn’t there just now.*

Though she had studied astronomy, geography, astrology, and divination under Huang Yaoshi, she was still an innocent maiden. Huang Yaoshi might have been learned in all things, but he wouldn’t teach his female disciple about such matters. So Cheng Ying did not immediately realize what was poking her face. She assumed it was some hidden weapon that had slipped out of Song Qingshu’s pocket when they fell.

*I wonder what weapon it is,* she thought. *For a martial artist as skilled as Song Qingshu to carry it concealed, it must be powerful.* But no matter how powerful the weapon, it had nothing to do with her. She focused on how to move it away.

The hard object was uncomfortable pressing against her. Unfortunately, both her hands were outside, with Lu Wushuang lying on her back. To reach inside, she would have to move her cousin.

Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang had only each other in this world. She loved her cousin like a younger sister. With her cousin’s lifelong well-being at stake, Cheng Ying dared not take any risk that might shift her freshly set bone.

Unable to use her hands, she could only tilt her face slightly, trying to push the object aside. But to her surprise, no matter how many times she moved it, it sprang back each time, striking her cheek until it was sore.

Fortunately, Cheng Ying was naturally calm and unflappable. She didn’t panic. She tried again. But the object seemed to deliberately oppose her. Each time she moved it, it rebounded.

Whether it was her imagination or not, Cheng Ying had the faint sense that the object had grown somewhat larger.

After several attempts, even Cheng Ying’s patient nature was beginning to fray. *Is the object caught on something? Is that why it keeps springing back?*

She realized that to solve the problem, she would have to free the object from whatever was trapping it. But she couldn’t do that with just her face.

And she couldn’t use her hands…

Just as Cheng Ying was puzzling over this, a flash of inspiration struck. *If I can’t use my hands, I still have my mouth.*

*It’s been poking me all this time. Time to teach it a lesson!*

With this thought, Cheng Ying parted her red lips and bit down on the object, trying to work it free from wherever it was caught.

At this moment, Song Qingshu’s expression was beyond strange. He had been focusing entirely on opening Lu Wushuang’s leg meridians, without a single licentious thought. But he was in the prime of his life, with soft, fragrant women in his arms. His young, vigorous body was responding naturally.

When Cheng Ying first tried to use her face to move it, Song Qingshu had been mortified. *This time, even jumping into the Yellow River won’t clear my name.* He was agonizing over how to explain when Cheng Ying showed no sign of reproach at all, but continued to nuzzle him with her cheek.

Song Qingshu was dumbfounded. *Am I really that irresistible? Has the aloof Cheng Ying, after one meeting, already thrown herself at me?*

But the thought had barely surfaced before he dismissed it. Narcissistic as he was, he wasn’t that delusional.

*Did I accidentally use the Joyful True Qi?* he wondered next. That would best explain this strange situation. The Joyful True Qi was incredibly potent, capable of turning an icy saint into something hotter than molten lava. He had verified that many times with his many lovers.

But then he dismissed that theory too. The last time he had treated Xiao Longnu, some Joyful True Qi had inadvertently entered her body, with serious consequences.

Though those consequences had been quite steamy, Song Qingshu was not the sort to use such means to seduce women. After that lesson, he had modified his internal energy circulation to prevent the Joyful True Qi from escaping while he used the One Yang Finger to heal.

He hadn’t used a trace of Joyful True Qi this entire time. So why was Cheng Ying reacting like this?

Just as he was puzzling over the reason, Song Qingshu’s body went rigid. Cheng Ying was now using her mouth.

By now, Cheng Ying was quite frustrated. Her cheeks were sore, but she still couldn’t free the object. No matter which direction she moved it, it bounced back. It seemed not to be caught on something, but to be attached to him.

Song Qingshu had finished opening the meridians in Lu Wushuang’s leg. He now faced an internal struggle between reason and desire. Should he let the misunderstanding stand, or play the part of Liu Xiahui? [G: Liu Xiahui is a historical figure famous for keeping a woman on his lap without any improper conduct. It’s a metaphor for a man of high moral character who resists temptation]

In the end, Song Qingshu decided to play the gentleman. What had just happened was too bizarre. He wouldn’t feel at ease without clarifying things.

He first moved Lu Wushuang onto the bed. Just as he was hesitating over what to say to Cheng Ying, she felt the weight lift and sat up with a sigh of relief. “Is my cousin’s leg healed?”

Seeing her face still wearing its usual serene, elegant expression, with even a hint of sanctity, Song Qingshu’s expression grew stranger. “I’ve opened her atrophied meridians. Once the bone heals in a month, she should be as good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Young Master.” Cheng Ying bowed slightly. Then her gaze fell on the “hidden weapon.” Curious, she asked, “What hidden weapon do you carry, Young Master?”

“Hidden weapon?” Song Qingshu was baffled.

“This thing.” Cheng Ying reached out and grasped it, trying to pull up the thing that had been tormenting her.

“Hiss—” Song Qingshu sucked in a breath. “Gently, gently! You’ll break it.”

“Break what?” Cheng Ying was bewildered. But as she pulled, she noticed Song Qingshu’s body rising with her hand. Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, everything became clear. She let out a shriek and released her grip, sitting there mortified to death.

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