Flower Stealing Master

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At the voice from outside, Qi Fang’s face changed at once. The memory of Zhang San and Li Si cutting their way through a boatload of people and hauling her here was still vivid in her mind.

Zhou Zhiruo’s expression grew serious as well. Her time on the isle had given her a clear sense of what the Reward and Punishment Envoys were capable of. One she could handle — two was beyond her — and there were dozens of them on this island.

Song Qingshu heard the commotion from the bed, stopped his cultivation, and came out. He signalled to both women to stay calm, then gestured for them to get back into the bed. If Zhang San and Li Si came in and found two women sitting up perfectly composed in the room, it would invite suspicion.

Qi Fang hesitated, her face red. Zhou Zhiruo, sharp as a blade, grasped her husband’s meaning instantly, took Qi Fang’s hand, and in a single fluid movement they were under the covers — two beautiful faces peeking out, nothing more.

Song Qingshu noted privately that Zhou Zhiruo’s qinggong had improved again since he’d last seen her.

He checked that his mask was properly set, then climbed onto the bed and lay between the two women. He cleared his throat and called toward the door: “Not now. This young lord is occupied.”

Years of practice had honed his impersonation to a fine edge. Passing as someone else required more than matching their face and build — the habits, the manner, the way of speaking all had to fit. He put himself in the dead young lord’s place: deep in the company of two beauties, the most honoured guest on the island — the last thing he’d want at a moment like this was Zhang San and Li Si at the door.

The door swung open anyway, pushed by some deft application of force from outside. Zhang San and Li Si entered, eyes sweeping the room like blades before settling on the three figures in the bed.

Song Qingshu manufactured an expression of outrage. “Who gave you permission to enter?”

Zhang San smiled pleasantly. “Please don’t take offence, Young Lord. We heard there was a disturbance involving an assassin just now, and came to check. You are the island’s most distinguished guest — if anything were to go wrong, my brother and I could never answer for it.”

Song Qingshu waved an impatient hand. “Well, you’ve had your look. Now go — you’re interrupting.”

Zhang San’s gaze lingered on him with an expression that was hard to read. “Two beauties of such rare quality — the Young Lord appears to be in excellent health.”

Song Qingshu’s heart gave a small lurch. ‘There’s something under those words. He’s checking whether the young lord was injured — but how could he know the young lord was attacked at all? Only Zhiruo and I saw what happened.’

He let the uncertainty pass and laughed broadly. “This young lord is in the prime of his vigour. Two great beauties? Twenty couldn’t wear me out.”

Zhou Zhiruo, her face buried against his side, quietly found a strip of flesh at his waist and pinched it with considerable feeling.

“Sss—” Song Qingshu drew a sharp breath, and met Zhou Zhiruo’s half-smiling eyes with a wince. ‘I’m performing here,’ he thought helplessly.

“To be young,” Zhang San remarked, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Youth squanders its vital essence without a thought,” Li Si added with cold flatness from the side. “In old age — only tears remain.”

Song Qingshu’s expression became extraordinary. ‘He seems so rigid and humourless, and it turns out he’s been sitting on commentary like that all along.’

“If there’s nothing else, you can go.” Song Qingshu was worried the longer they stayed, the more likely they were to spot something wrong. He tried to usher them out.

Neither man moved. Zhang San said: “We came partly out of concern for the Young Lord’s health — we’d thought to suspend the lesson for today. Since you seem perfectly well, however — shall we proceed?”

“Lesson?” Song Qingshu’s brow creased inwardly. He had no idea what lesson was meant — and going with them without knowing would expose him immediately.

“Not today. I’ve spent myself rather thoroughly and need to rest.” He pressed a hand dramatically to his forehead.

Zhang San chuckled. “The Island Master left very specific instructions before he departed — the Young Lord must be brought to the stone chamber to study at this hour each day, without exception.”

Song Qingshu felt a private surge of delight. He had been puzzling over how to get into the last chamber — and here the opportunity had walked straight through the door. Zhang San hadn’t specified which chamber, but all the others were constantly crowded with people bent over the diagrams day and night. A guest of the young lord’s standing would hardly go to compete with the masses — which made the final chamber, the one reserved for the Island Masters alone, by far the most likely destination.

When Song Qingshu remained silent, Zhang San added with his pleasant smile: “As the old saying goes, beautiful women bring ruin. It seems these two have led the Young Lord to neglect his studies. Allow us to remove them at once.”

The words were delivered with a cheerful expression. The temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees.

“Don’t you dare,” Song Qingshu snapped, then let himself deflate into reluctant submission. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“The Young Lord sees what matters. This way, please.” Zhang San and Li Si each stepped to one side with a gesture of invitation.

“Give me a moment to dress.” Song Qingshu let down the bed curtains and leaned close to the two women, murmuring quickly: “I’m going with them to have a look. Stay here — don’t go anywhere. If anyone asks, say it’s my orders. If something does go badly wrong, Zhiruo — take Qi Fang straight to the beach and the dock. I’ll come the moment I hear anything.”

“Why don’t we strike now, while we have the element of surprise? Taking Zhang San and Li Si off guard — we could manage it.” Zhou Zhiruo had, after all, once claimed first place at the Lion-Slaying Assembly. There was a note of genuine eagerness in her voice.

Song Qingshu shook his head. “Too many fighters on this island. If we alert them, even the two of us together can’t get out. Stick to the plan. And this trip to the chamber may be an opportunity — it’s possible I’ll find something there to deal with the poison.”

Zhou Zhiruo gave a reluctant nod and straightened his collar with careful hands. “Then be careful.”

Song Qingshu smiled. On his way out he swooped down and ki$$ed each woman on the cheek in quick succession, then stepped through the curtain before either could react. “Let’s go,” he said to Zhang San and Li Si.

“This way, Young Lord.”

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance.

Qi Fang pressed her hand to the spot on her cheek, her face scarlet. “His… the Young Lord’s behaviour,” she said with some awkwardness, “is rather beyond prediction.”

Zhou Zhiruo was caught between exasperation and laughter. “That scoundrel has never had a shred of restraint in his life.”

*****

Walking behind Zhang San and Li Si, Song Qingshu ventured a probe: “The things in the stone chambers — how much have you two managed to understand?”

Zhang San turned sharply, and fixed him with a look of open suspicion. “Young Lord — you’ve never shown the slightest interest in martial arts before. Why would you suddenly be asking about something like that today?”

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