Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 842: A Family Torn Apart

The grand hall fell into an eerie silence. 

The high-ranking officials of the Jin Dynasty exchanged glances, silently weighing their thoughts.

“The Prince Wei was killed? Did I hear that right?”

“But the Prince of Wei was the Emperor’s only heir—why would His Majesty kill him?”

“Could someone be stirring up trouble behind the scenes?”

…

Among those present, only two wore expressions of feigned grief—yet the faint upward twitch of their lips betrayed their barely suppressed delight. 

One was Prince Changsheng, Wanyan Yuan, and the other was Prince Hailing, Wanyan Liang.

Wanyan Yuan had every reason to rejoice. He had long been at odds with the Prince Wei, and as Emperor Xizong’s younger brother, he was now the undisputed heir under imperial succession laws. The thought of ascending the throne filled him with glee.

As for Wanyan Liang, though he was the eldest among the third generation of the Jin imperial family, his father was merely a concubine-born son of the dynasty’s founder. This had excluded him from the line of succession in the eyes of the court. Yet, Wanyan Liang prided himself on his unparalleled talents, believing himself far superior to his cousins. The Prince Wei’s death meant the throne was now up for grabs—and he was more than ready to seize it by any means.
‘Today truly is a fortunate day,’ Wanyan Liang thought, barely suppressing a smirk. ‘First, the Prince Wei dies, and tonight, I get to enjoy the peerless beauty, Gebi…’ He quickly schooled his expression, lest his amusement draw the Emperor’s wrath.

Emperor Xizong proceeded to discuss with his officials how to quell the unrest, stabilize the court, and handle the Prince Wei’s funeral arrangements—including the official cause of death. 

Wanyan Liang offered absent-minded agreement, his thoughts already drifting to his evening rendezvous.

*****

Meanwhile, Song Qingshu returned to the Tang Kuo residence. When Gebi learned that he intended to host Wanyan Liang that night, she trembled with fury.

“Absolutely not! I refuse to entertain that murderer in my home!”

Song Qingshu understood her anguish. Knowing Wanyan Liang was her husband’s killer, forcing her to feign hospitality would be unbearable for anyone.

But time was running out. The Laundry Courtyard had already begun secretly investigating the Prince Wei’s assassination. Princesses Zhao Hu’er and Zhao Yuanyuan would be the first interrogated—and given their naive nature, they were unlikely to keep secrets for long.

The only silver lining was Empress Pei Man’s political acumen. With the assistance of Zhao Yingluo, she could likely protect the two girls for a few days. However, given the gravity of the situation, Song Qingshu estimated she could buy them no more than a week before even her own position became precarious.

He had to act fast—resolving the Laundry Courtyard’s investigation and rescuing the imprisoned princesses, along with Song Yuanqiao and the others. Wanyan Liang was the key to his plan.

Everything was ready except for the final push. To infiltrate Wanyan Liang’s inner circle, he needed to follow the man’s own suggestion: exchange Gebi for his wife, Tudan Jing.

Song Qingshu couldn’t reveal his true goal—freeing the Laundry Courtyard’s prisoners—to Gebi. As the Emperor’s sister, her loyalty to the Jin Dynasty made her an unlikely ally.

“I know this is difficult for you,” he said, “but what if tonight could bring a small measure of vengeance for Brother Tang Kuo?”

Gebi’s eyes sharpened. “How?”

“Avenging Brother Tang Kuo can be done in two ways,” Song Qingshu explained. “The first is simple and direct. Though Wanyan Liang is usually surrounded by guards, tonight’s banquet presents a rare opportunity. With your consent, I could assassinate him. Given my skills, success is likely.”

Gebi shook her head. “Too risky. Even if you succeed, killing a prince would provoke the entire Jin Dynasty. You’d face endless pursuit, and it could spark war with the Golden Serpent Camp. I won’t let you sacrifice so much.”

“I’d accept that sacrifice—though it’d mean never sharing a life with you,” he sighed dramatically.

“Who said anything about sharing a life?!” Gebi flushed with indignation.

“You deny it, yet you just prioritized my safety over vengeance,” he said, moved, reaching for her shoulder.

She dodged, discomfort flashing across her face. “You misunderstand. I’d do the same for any stray cat or dog. Now, what’s the second method?”

Song Qingshu didn’t press further. “The second is more complicated—but it would leave Wanyan Liang’s family shattered, his reputation in ruins, doomed for eternity.”

Gebi’s eyes gleamed. “How?”

“Wanyan Liang is a prince. Barring unforeseen circumstances, his descendants would enjoy prosperity forever. But there’s one crime that strips even the noblest of their legacy.”

Gebi wasn’t slow. A single word came to mind: “Rebellion?”

“Exactly. If Wanyan Liang is implicated in a failed revolt, his fate will be unspeakably grim.” Song Qingshu’s voice darkened. “And if I’m right, he’s already plotting one.”

“But we lack proof,” Gebi countered. As a royal, she knew Wanyan Liang’s status and the Emperor’s trust in him made baseless accusations futile.

“That’s why I’ve been getting close to him. By tonight, I should earn his full trust.” His smile turned unsettling.

“Why?” Gebi felt a chill.

Instead of answering directly, he mused, “Exposing his rebellion will ruin him. But tonight’s exchange will tear his family apart—a down payment on Brother Tang Kuo’s vengeance.”

“Tear his family apart?” Gebi was baffled. 

Princess Consort Hailing and Wanyan Liang were famously devoted—how could their marriage collapse in one night?

“Because the banquet is just a pretext. What I’m really after is… a private exchange.” He leaned in, whispering a word that turned her neck scarlet.

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