Flower Stealing Master

Although Huang Rong knew that Song Qingshu was spouting nonsense, what woman wouldn’t enjoy being praised for her beauty? She had been in a terrible mood, but his teasing made her tremble with laughter, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue as she chided, “You’re being ridiculous.”

Song Qingshu chuckled. “Who was it just now that said she’d agree to any condition I asked? And now, you won’t even agree to such a simple request?”

“You also said you didn’t want anything in return. Besides… besides—” Huang Rong shot him a shy glare, “How do you expect me to say something like that out loud?”

No matter how much Song Qingshu tried to pressure her, Huang Rong refused to call him ‘Brother Qingshu’. In the end, after much pestering, they reached a compromise—Song Qingshu could call her ‘Sister Rong’er’ in private when no one else was around, but she would never call him ‘Brother Qingshu’.

“Sister Rong’er~” Song Qingshu deliberately stretched out his words as he gazed at the stunningly beautiful woman before him.

Huang Rong’s face turned even redder, as if it might start dripping with embarrassment. She nodded slightly, letting out an almost imperceptible “Mm.”

“Sister Rong’er, that’s not right,” Song Qingshu said with a feigned stern expression. “I called you, so why aren’t you responding properly?”

“I ‘did’ respond!” Huang Rong knew he was teasing her on purpose, making her both flustered and frustrated.

“But I didn’t hear it, Sister Rong’er~” Song Qingshu spread his hands, looking completely innocent.

Huang Rong’s heart trembled. The name ‘Rong’er’ was something only her closest loved ones would call her. In the past decade, she had barely seen her father, Huang Yaoshi, or her master, Hong Qigong, and usually, only her husband called her that.

Now, hearing Song Qingshu repeatedly call her ‘Sister Rong’er’, she suddenly felt a strange sensation rise in her chest. Her voice wavered as she instinctively responded in a soft, delicate voice, “Yes~”

The moment she spoke, Huang Rong felt so ashamed she wanted to disappear into the ground. She quickly reassured herself, ‘This is all for saving Brother Jing. I have no choice but to play along…’

Hearing that crisp, sweet reply, Song Qingshu felt his entire body go numb with delight. Grinning shamelessly, he moved closer and coaxed, “Good sister, just once—call me Brother Qingshu.”

Huang Rong’s almond-shaped eyes widened as she was about to refuse, but Song Qingshu quickly added, “If you do, I’ll feel more energized, and rescuing Hero Guo will be much easier.”

Huang Rong nearly fainted from anger. She knew he was saying this on purpose, but at the thought of her husband’s uncertain fate, her heart softened. After hesitating for a moment, she finally parted her lips and whispered bashfully, “Brother…Qingshu.”

‘Just take it as a good omen,’ she reassured herself.

“Oh, my dear sister!” Song Qingshu felt as if he had just eaten an elixir of immortality. Hearing this mature and alluring woman shyly call him ‘Brother’, every pore in his body tingled with pleasure. “Just for that one ‘Brother,’ I’ll do everything in my power to rescue Hero Guo.”

Huang Rong’s face flushed as she quickly said, “Don’t mention any of this to him later. Brother Jing is a man of strict morals—he wouldn’t accept this at all…”

“Of course. This will be our little secret.” Song Qingshu grinned.

Huang Rong’s heart trembled again at his playful gaze. She quickly averted her eyes and said, “I’ll leave this to you. I need to contact the Beggar Gang brothers so they won’t fall into Wanyan Liang’s trap.”

“That works,” Song Qingshu nodded. He had plenty to take care of as well. “Sister Rong’er, be careful on your way. Once you’re done, let’s meet back here and plan how to rescue Hero Guo.”

Hearing him call her ‘Sister Rong’er’ once again, Huang Rong couldn’t help but glance back and glare at him before leaving. Her mixture of irritation and shyness nearly stole Song Qingshu’s soul away.

Once she left, Song Qingshu knew it was time to get serious. Since he had agreed to help, he couldn’t let Guo Jing die.

With his current level of Qinggong, sneaking through the night was effortless. Few in the world could detect his presence. He returned to the courtyard where the earlier battle had taken place and hid in the shadows, observing the scene.

The battle had already ended. 

Guo Jing lay on the ground, severely wounded, yet he still forced his eyes open to glare at Wanyan Liang. Several experts surrounded him, forming a loose encirclement.

Wanyan Liang was thoroughly pleased by that furious gaze. With an almost elegant tone, he said, “So this is the great Hero of Xiangyang who has troubled the Mongols for ten years? Honestly, you’re not much after all. Hero Guo, do you think I’m despicable?”

“Hmph!” Guo Jing snorted coldly but said nothing. He knew full well that anything went on the battlefield, and Wanyan Liang’s underhanded methods were simply part of the game.

Wanyan Liang smirked. “No need to rush, Hero Guo. Once I bring your wife here, you’ll have plenty to say.”

“You—!” Guo Jing’s eyes burned with fury as he struggled to lunge at Wanyan Liang. But after facing three opponents of equal strength at once, he had exhausted all his energy. Moving even a finger was difficult now.

“You really shouldn’t be so angry,” Wanyan Liang sneered. “In my view, a w0man as breathtaking as your wife should be adored by thousands. But after marrying you, she’s had to live a life of hardship, constantly on the run. What a waste—like a delicate flower stuck in cow dung. I have always been generous in aiding others, so I will reluctantly take her into my harem. She will have fine clothes and delicacies every day, and of course, as payment, she must serve me with utmost devotion.”

The expressions of those present varied. 

Ouyang Feng and Qiu Qianren, who already bore deep grudges against Guo Jing and Huang Rong, were clearly gloating. Murong Bo remained indifferent, as if none of this concerned him. Yang Guo’s reaction was the most complex—he wanted revenge, but he didn’t wish for Huang Rong to suffer such a fate.

Wanyan Liang reveled in the rage burning in Guo Jing’s eyes. He loved tormenting his enemies, especially by hum!liating their wives before their helpless eyes. It filled him with an unparalleled sense of dominance and satisfaction.

But the thought of Huang Rong’s successful escape soured his mood. Though he had ordered an extensive search across Kaifeng, he knew finding her was nearly impossible—like searching for a needle in the sea.

Still, he glanced at Guo Jing and quickly felt better. With her husband in his grasp, that stunning beauty would surely come to him on her own. The mere thought of that exquisite w0man writhing beneath him sent a wave of heat coursing through Wanyan Liang’s b0dy.

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