Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 877: A Twist of Fate



Chapter 877: A Twist of Fate



“Uh…” Song Qingshu’s face twisted in awkwardness, his mood thoroughly soured. “I didn’t know you were a girl before.”  


“Now that you do know, why aren’t you letting go?” Wanyan Chongjie snorted, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.  


Song Qingshu withdrew his hand sheepishly. Being scolded twice by a young girl left him in a foul mood, and he couldn’t resist retorting, “Tch, with such a flat chest, who’d even want to touch it?”  


“What did you say?” Flames of fury nearly erupted from Wanyan Chongjie’s eyes.  


“Nothing. I just said a real man doesn’t fight with w0men.” When it came to shamelessness, Song Qingshu was practically the grandmaster. There was no way a little girl could outmaneuver him.  


Wanyan Chongjie swallowed her frustration. Seeing Song Qingshu’s unrepentant expression, she knew arguing further wouldn’t do her any good. She stiffened her face and demanded, “Hurry up and unseal my acupoints.”  


After a moment’s hesitation, Song Qingshu decided to comply. For one, she was still Gebi’s niece—if not for her sake, then for Gebi’s. For another, given his martial prowess, he wasn’t worried about her causing any real trouble.  


With a flick of his finger from a distance, her sealed acupoints were released. 


Wanyan Chongjie’s heart trembled with shock, though she showed none of it. Flexing her arms, she waved at him. “Alright, now come with me to kill Wanyan Liang.”  


Song Qingshu laughed in disbelief. “And why should I do that?”  


“Because I know your secret,” Wanyan Chongjie replied, turning back to flash him a radiant smile. Despite her youth, there was already a hint of captivating charm in her demeanor.  


“What secret?” Song Qingshu asked, his expression unreadable.  


Wanyan Chongjie clasped her hands behind her back, circling him with an assessing gaze. After a long pause, her thin lips parted slightly. “Because you’re not my uncle, Tang Kuo Bian.”  


Song Qingshu’s heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  


Wanyan Chongjie smiled faintly. “When you caught my sword between two fingers during the last assassination attempt on Wanyan Liang, I was already suspicious. Tang Kuo Bian might be skilled in horseback archery, but he never learned martial arts for close combat. Later, I checked—no one had ever heard of Tang Kuo Bian knowing martial arts. To confirm, I just ambushed you again, and sure enough, your skills are unfathomable. So tell me, how could you possibly be Tang Kuo Bian?”  


“If I’m not Tang Kuo Bian, then who am I?” Song Qingshu rubbed his temples in frustration. His momentary carelessness in revealing his martial arts had now been exposed by both Gebi and this girl. What a blunder.  


Wanyan Chongjie shook her head. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. I just need you to help me kill Wanyan Liang, and I’ll keep your secret.”  


“And if I refuse?” Song Qingshu’s voice turned icy.  


“You’re impersonating Tang Kuo Bian to exploit his identity for some grand scheme, right? If the entire capital finds out you’re a fraud, how will you achieve your goals?” Wanyan Chongjie’s lips curled. “Take my aunt, for example—the so-called number one beauty of the Jin Dynasty. What do you think her reaction will be when she learns the truth? And what about all her former suitors, who’ll realize their goddess has been defiled by some random impostor? Let me remind you—at least a third of the nobles in the capital once pursued her. Think carefully about the consequences…”  


Before she could finish, a blur flashed before her eyes. The next moment, she was slammed against the wall, an iron-like grip tightening around her throat, cutting off her breath.  


Song Qingshu stared at her coldly. “If I kill you, won’t that solve everything?”  


After the initial panic, Wanyan Chongjie steadied herself and met his gaze calmly. “Do you really think I came here unprepared?”  


“What do you mean?” Song Qingshu frowned.  


“I knew I was meeting an extremely dangerous person. Did you think I’d come without precautions?” A mocking smile played on her lips. “I’ve already made arrangements. If I don’t return on time, the news of your impersonation will spread throughout the capital.”  


“You’re just a little girl. What kind of connections could you have?” Song Qingshu remained unmoved. “I’ll kill you, track down your contact, and eliminate them too. Problem solved.”  


“You don’t even know who my contact is. Where would you even look?” Despite her youth, Wanyan Chongjie wasn’t intimidated. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t find them.”  


“Oh? I don’t believe that.” Song Qingshu deliberately provoked her.  


“Don’t bother trying to bait me. If I tell you, it’s because I’m not afraid of you finding them,” Wanyan Chongjie snorted. “Every three days, I go to the streets to find a specific candied hawthorn seller. If he sees me, he’ll know everything’s fine, and your secret stays safe. There are countless candied hawthorn sellers in the capital—even if you knew, you’d never find the right one.”  


Song Qingshu’s frown deepened as he spotted a flaw in her story. “You’re lying. A noblewoman like you wouldn’t roam the streets so often. What if you’re summoned to the palace and can’t meet your contact?”  


To his surprise, Wanyan Chongjie remained unruffled. “We’ve already agreed that if I can’t go, I’ll send someone else. As long as they exchange the correct passphrase, it’ll confirm my safety.”  


“What’s the passphrase?” Song Qingshu tightened his grip slightly.  


Wanyan Chongjie’s face flushed red. “My messenger will ask, ‘How much for the candied hawthorns?’ The seller will reply, ‘Three taels of gold and three taels of silver per stick.’ Then my messenger will say, ‘So cheap? I’ll pay five taels of gold and five taels of silver.’ That’s how they’ll know I’m safe.”  


Song Qingshu’s brows knitted together. This sounded suspiciously like a secret society’s coded exchange. Releasing her neck, he said darkly, “I think you’re lying. Why would you tell me the passphrase?”  


“Of course I’m lying.” Wanyan Chongjie rubbed her throat, gasping for breath. “The candied hawthorn seller and the passphrase are both fake. I’m not stupid enough to tell you the real one. I just wanted to show you that despite my age, I’m no stranger to the ways of the wulin. I’ve prepared for every contingency.”  


“Fine, you win.” Song Qingshu’s tone was flat. Though he still doubted her claims, he couldn’t afford to take the risk.  


“Why do you want to kill Wanyan Liang?” he suddenly asked.  


“That’s none of your concern. Just help me kill him.” As she spoke, Wanyan Chongjie peeled off her black outer robe, revealing a fresh, water-green dress beneath. Grabbing Song Qingshu’s hand, she pulled him toward the alley’s exit.  


Her hand was soft and cool. After a brief pause, Song Qingshu asked, “Where are we going?”  


“Cool Breeze Pavilion. Wanyan Liang is drinking there today, and his guards are lighter than usual.” She didn’t even glance back.  


“Today?!” Song Qingshu inwardly groaned. He had planned to stall her, but now she was dragging him straight into action. He didn’t care about Wanyan Liang’s life, but he did care about the power vacuum his death would create. He had only just begun infiltrating the Jin Dynasty’s upper echelons—if Wanyan Liang died now, this golden opportunity would slip away.  


Just as he considered using the Soul Capture Technique to control her and extract information about her contact, the alley darkened. Looking up, he saw a group of burly men blocking their path.  


“Wanyan Chongjie?” their leader called out.  


Wanyan Chongjie frowned slightly. “Who are you?”  


“Our master requests your presence,” the man replied.  


“Who is your master?” She instinctively took a step back.  


“You’ll find out when you meet him.” The leader’s tone was cold.  


“I have no interest in meeting cowards who hide in the shadows.” Wanyan Chongjie turned to leave, but the sound of rustling fabric filled the air as several figures landed behind them, cutting off their retreat.  


“What’s the meaning of this?” Her expression darkened.  


“We’re merely following orders. Please don’t make this difficult for us.” Though the leader’s words were polite, his demeanor was anything but.  


“Seems you’ve got quite the swarm of admirers,” Song Qingshu remarked, secretly delighted by the interruption.  


Wanyan Chongjie shook her head slightly and whispered, “These men are all experts—not the kind of lackeys noble brats usually command. They mean trouble. Handle them.”  


Song Qingshu blinked. “Why don’t you do it?” Though Wanyan Chongjie’s skills were nothing to him, she was still a first-rate martial artist by wulin standards. Dealing with these hired thugs should’ve been easy.  


“I keep my martial arts a secret in the capital,” she explained quietly. “I don’t know who sent these men. If word gets back to Wanyan Liang, he might connect me to the past assassination attempts. I can’t take that risk.”  


Song Qingshu was exasperated. “Everyone knows Tang Kuo Bian doesn’t know martial arts either. I slipped up once, and you caught me. I can’t afford a second mistake.”  


“So neither of us fights back, and we just let them take us?” Wanyan Chongjie’s eyes widened in disbelief.  


“If they capture us, so be it.” Song Qingshu had already made up his mind. If he dealt with these men now, Wanyan Chongjie would drag him straight to assassinate Wanyan Liang. He wasn’t about to throw away his carefully laid plans for that.  


“You—!” Wanyan Chongjie nearly choked on her fury. 


In the past, any man in her company would’ve eagerly leapt to her defense, even those who couldn’t fight—all to avoid losing face in her eyes. Yet here was this infuriating man, clearly a martial arts master, pretending to be utterly helpless.



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