Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 808: Shock and Sorrow

Wanyan Liang was unwilling to delve deeper into the conversation. From then on, he only spoke of idle, pleasant topics, avoiding political matters entirely. Song Qingshu understood his intentions and did not press further.

The afternoon passed quickly. 

When Wanyan Liang heard that Song Qingshu and his wife were attending the coming-of-age ceremony of Pucha Ahute’s daughter, he smiled and said, “What a coincidence! The princess consort and I were just about to head there as well. Why don’t we go together?”

Song Qingshu actually had no desire to accompany him, but it would have been impolite to refuse such a warm invitation. In a show of goodwill, Wanyan Liang even had his servants bring out his beloved luxurious carriage for Song Qingshu and his wife to use.

Though Gebi repeatedly signaled with her eyes for him to decline, Song Qingshu saw through Wanyan Liang’s scheme. “Why pass up such an advantage?” The carriage was as extravagant as a Rolls-Royce, undoubtedly funded by ill-gotten wealth from the people. Making Wanyan Liang pay a little was practically an act of justice—not to mention compensation for the last time they rode in his carriage and were ambushed by assassins.

Just before departure, the Princess Consort suddenly tugged at Wanyan Liang’s sleeve. Taking the hint, Wanyan Liang apologized to Song Qingshu and Gebi, “My apologies, but there’s been a mishap with the gift we prepared for Pucha’s daughter. We’ll need to rearrange it. Why don’t you two go ahead without us?”

Though curious about what Tudan Jing had whispered to Wanyan Liang, Song Qingshu recognized the polite dismissal. After bidding farewell, he helped Gebi into the lavish carriage, her arm soft beneath his touch.

As the carriage gradually disappeared into the distance, Wanyan Liang’s smile faded. He turned to his wife. “What is it, Xiaojing?”

“Nothing… I’m just curious why you hold Tang Kuo Bian in such high regard.” Tudan Jing’s expression was uneasy as she recalled Song Qingshu’s subtle gestures earlier. “The Tang Kuo family is practically extinct now. What’s the benefit in courting him?”

“Though the Tang Kuo family has declined, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. They remain one of the three great noble houses of the Jin Dynasty, with deep-rooted influence,” Wanyan Liang explained. “Tang Kuo Bian is at his lowest point now. Helping him now is like offering fuel in snowy weather—it’ll yield twice the result with half the effort.”
Tudan Jing frowned. “But Tang Kuo Bian is aligned with the Emperor. Aren’t you afraid he’ll betray you?”

Remembering the “pledge of loyalty” he had secured, Wanyan Liang smirked. “I have my ways to ensure his reliability.”

“But what about Gebi?” Tudan Jing’s worry did not lessen. “She’s the Emperor’s beloved younger sister. Even if Tang Kuo Bian sides with us, Gebi would never betray her brother. If she learns anything from him, we’ll be in trouble.”

Wanyan Liang pulled his wife into an embrace. “Don’t worry. I’ve already set an exquisite trap to ensure Tang Kuo Bian won’t dare reveal anything to Gebi.”

“Not in public…” Tudan Jing blushed and gently pushed him away. “What kind of trap? Can you tell me?”

“If I say it, it won’t work.” Wanyan Liang’s smile stiffened. “Xiaojing, when have I ever acted without certainty?” In truth, she was also a pawn in his scheme—how could he reveal the truth?

Unaware of her husband’s machinations, Tudan Jing let the matter drop. She was inherently simple-hearted and rarely involved herself in his schemes, only occasionally offering wifely reminders.

It was precisely her gentle, serene nature that made Wanyan Liang adore her above all others, despite the countless beauties around him.

***

Meanwhile, after leaving the Prince Hailing’s residence, Gebi quietly asked her husband in the carriage, “What did you and Wanyan Liang discuss all afternoon?”

“Nothing much—just idle chatter. He hinted several times at recruiting me.” Song Qingshu did not tell her the full truth. With Wanyan Liang in the open and himself in the shadows, he had the upper hand. If Gebi learned of Wanyan Liang’s vile intentions and impulsively reported them to the Emperor, chaos would ensue. Emperor Xizong might reprimand Wanyan Liang, but without concrete evidence of treason, little could be done.

Worse, Wanyan Liang would then target Song Qingshu openly. Unable to protect Gebi at all times, the current advantage would be lost.

“Recruiting you?” Gebi frowned. “Though Prince Hailing appears refined, there’s something unsettling in his eyes. Be careful.”

“I will.” Song Qingshu marveled at a woman’s intuition. Historically, Wanyan Liang had not yet revealed his depravity—most saw him as a virtuous noble. Yet Gebi, with little exposure to his darker side, sensed his true nature.

“I don’t like him,” Gebi admitted, “but he is talented—few in court rival him. His support could benefit your career.”

Song Qingshu agreed. History had vilified Wanyan Liang, but much of that was the victor’s narrative. His capabilities were undeniable—only his vile character led to his downfall.

As he pondered, a sudden chill ran down his spine. The carriage door exploded into splinters as a flash of cold steel shot toward him. 

Gebi, pressed close to whisper, was directly in its path.

The blade moved faster than thought. 

Gebi’s eyes widened, but the suffocating killing intent paralyzed her. “So this is how it ends…” She closed her eyes, bracing for pain.

Yet none came. The murderous aura vanished as abruptly as it appeared.

When Gebi opened her eyes, she was stunned.

The blade—now still—was a gleaming dagger clutched by a black-clad assassin, frozen mid-lunge. Their eyes mirrored shock, for the dagger could advance no further, trapped between Song Qingshu’s fingers.

Song Qingshu studied the assassin. The figure was shrouded in black, revealing only a pair of familiar, lively eyes.

“You again!” they exclaimed simultaneously—Song Qingshu in surprise, the assassin in frustration.

Gebi gasped—the voice was undeniably a young girl’s!

Song Qingshu was speechless. Twice now, he’d intercepted assassins targeting Wanyan Liang’s carriage. “I should’ve refused this ride!”

The girl yanked her dagger back, but Song Qingshu’s grip was unshakable. “Let go!” she hissed.

Guards swarmed outside. Not wanting Wanyan Liang to benefit, Song Qingshu released a pulse of energy, sending her flying back. She landed on a rooftop dozens of feet away, evading capture.

For a long moment, the girl stared at Song Qingshu, as if memorizing his face, before vanishing into the cityscape.

“Her eyes… I’ve seen them before.” The answer hovered just out of reach. “Too much on my mind lately.” Shrugging, he turned to Gebi.

She sat frozen, face pale. When he reached for her, she flinched away. “I’m fine,” she whispered, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

As Song Qingshu stepped out to address the guards, Gebi covered her mouth, eyes reddening with disbelief—and a deep, unspoken sorrow.