Flower Stealing Master

“What?” Except for Lu Guanying and Cheng Yaojia, everyone in the room was stunned. Old Madam Tang’s word in the Lu household was law…when had she ever been defied like this?

The old lady’s first reaction was not anger but the thought that she had misheard. Only when she saw the others’ reactions did she realize she had heard correctly. Enraged beyond measure, she noticed Lu Guanying’s expression and, interpreting it as gloating, flew into a fury. She hurled her teacup at his head. “Lu Guanying! What kind of disreputable friends do you keep? Bringing such people into this house…do you want to be expelled from the family?”

Lu Guanying’s expression darkened instantly. In this world, being expelled from one’s ancestral temple was the most severe punishment. One would have no ancestors to worship and, after death, no home to return to.

But the scalding tea water streaming down his head, the humiliation made his veins bulge. If his wife hadn’t been holding him back, he might have lashed out.

Seeing Lu Guanying’s ordeal, Song Qingshu’s expression grew even colder. Just then, Cheng Ying quickly stepped between them. “Old Madam, Third Brother’s friends are from the *wulin*. People of the *wulin* are accustomed to living freely, not bound by the formalities of a distinguished family like the Lu household. Especially those with great ability…they disregard such conventions entirely. If his words were offensive, I hope the Old Madam will forgive him.”

Cheng Yaojia shot her cousin a grateful look. She knew that Cheng Ying had only spoken up for them because of their relationship.

Song Qingshu had to admire Cheng Ying’s unique presence. She had a way of making everyone feel at ease. The tense, gunpowder-filled atmosphere in the room dissipated significantly with just a few words from her.

Old Madam Tang’s expression softened slightly. She snorted. “What great ability could someone like him possibly have?”

Fearing another argument, Cheng Ying quickly said, “One cannot judge a book by its cover. This young gentleman may be able to treat Cousin Wushuang’s leg.” She gave Song Qingshu an apologetic look, silently urging him to endure a little until the old lady’s anger subsided.

Song Qingshu frowned. It wasn’t that he feared the old woman, but Cheng Ying’s eyes seemed to speak, making it hard for him to be hard-hearted.

But Old Madam Tang spoke first, sneering, “Wushuang’s leg…even Huang Yaoshi, that divine figure, could do nothing for it. *Him*? He should piss on a mirror and take a look at himself.” Her tone dripped with contempt.

Song Qingshu did not get angry. He simply said flatly, “I can cure it. But I won’t.”

Cheng Ying’s eyes lit up. She quickly asked, “May I ask the young gentleman for your method?” Years ago, she had lived in Lu Wushuang’s home. Wushuang’s parents had treated her like their own daughter. Even when Li Mochou came seeking revenge, they had shared with her the handkerchief that was their only lifeline. That debt of gratitude would never be forgotten.

Now that they had passed away, leaving Lu Wushuang alone in the world, she doted on her cousin as if she were her own child. Lu Wushuang was a beautiful young woman; her only flaw was the slight limp from a childhood injury. Cheng Ying had spent years trying to cure it, without success.

With her cousin’s leg at stake, she could no longer concern herself with Old Madam Tang’s face. She looked at Song Qingshu expectantly.

Though Cheng Ying’s gentle gaze could melt the hardest heart, Song Qingshu had weathered far greater storms and was not so easily swayed. He remained unmoved. “I won’t treat her.”

Lu Wushuang, already disliking him from their earlier encounter, quickly pulled Cheng Ying away. “He’s just bluffing. My leg has been like this for years…how could he possibly cure it? Cousin, you’re taking his empty boasts seriously. Even if he wanted to tell you, he couldn’t.”

“Well…” Cheng Ying hesitated. Her master, Huang Yaoshi, was one of the Five Ultimates and skilled in medicine. Even he had been unable to cure her cousin’s leg. This man, though handsome and not obviously a fraud, was very young.

Lu Guanying finally found an opening. “If the Young Master says he can cure it, then he can.” His voice was full of confidence.

Lu Wushuang knew her third brother did not speak idly. His certainty made her uneasy. *Could this man truly be that capable?*

Cheng Ying’s delicate brows furrowed. Uncertain, she asked, “But even Master was unable…”

Lu Guanying replied, “Just because Grandmaster couldn’t doesn’t mean Young Master Song can’t.” The disciples of Peach Blossom Island had always revered Huang Yaoshi as a god. But Lu Guanying had seen Song Qingshu in action. Combined with various rumors from the *wulin*, he suspected Song Qingshu’s martial arts might surpass Huang Yaoshi’s.

This was unexpected. Cheng Ying turned to look quietly at the man before her, wondering who he was that Lu Guanying held him in such high esteem.

“It wouldn’t hurt to tell you a little,” Song Qingshu suddenly said. “Not that you could do anything with the knowledge. To cure her leg, the injury must be refractured and reset using a special technique. Then the One Yang Finger must be used to open the blocked and atrophied meridians in her leg. Finally, the wound must be treated with Black Jade Ointment and set. After half a month, she would recover completely.”

Cheng Ying’s beautiful eyes sparkled. As Huang Yaoshi’s last disciple, her understanding was considerable. Her master had once conceived of such a treatment, but he did not know the One Yang Finger. Moreover, using the One Yang Finger to open blocked meridians consumed vast internal energy. The practitioner would be unable to fight for anywhere from half a year to several years. Huang Yaoshi, proud as he was, did not wish to owe such a debt to Reverend Yideng. So he had abandoned the idea and instead focused on researching and improving the “Whirlwind Sweeping Leg” technique, hoping it might restore Lu Wushuang’s leg.

Years ago, after Mei Chaofeng betrayed the Peach Blossom Island sect, Huang Yaoshi had broken the legs of his other disciples in a fit of rage. Later, feeling remorse, he had created the “Whirlwind Sweeping Leg” technique. If a person with lower limb injuries practiced the breathing exercises daily, they might gradually recover the ability to walk after five or six years.

But though the Whirlwind Sweeping Leg was miraculous, it could only restore limited mobility. It could not return a person to normalcy.

As for Black Jade Ointment, it was a legendary Western Regions medicine for healing injuries. Cheng Ying had heard Huang Yaoshi mention it only once. Hearing Song Qingshu speak so professionally, she was eighty percent convinced.

Cheng Ying quickly said, “What would it take for the young gentleman to treat her? If there is anything I can do, I will not refuse.”

Song Qingshu answered flatly, “What I want, you cannot do.”

Cheng Ying smiled. “How do you know I cannot do it without telling me?” As Huang Yaoshi’s last disciple and a guest of honor to many Southern Song dignitaries over the years, she had some pride of her own.

“You really want me to say it?” Song Qingshu’s expression suddenly turned strange.

“Young gentleman, speak freely.” Noticing his half-smile, Cheng Ying’s heart quickened. *Surely he won’t make an improper request…*

“Very well.” Song Qingshu wiped the smile from his face and pointed at Old Madam Tang. “Make her kneel and kowtow three times, and beg me.”

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