Flower Stealing Master

Seeing Madame Tang sleeping soundly on the bed, Huang Rong couldn’t help but sigh, “What a beauty who evokes pity at first sight!”

After being struck on her acupoints, a person would naturally regain mobility after several hours. By now, Madame Tang’s acupoints had already been released. However, since they had been unsealed in the middle of the night, she instinctively continued sleeping.

Hearing the sounds beside her, Madame Tang drowsily opened her eyes and saw a breathtakingly charming woman standing before her. The sheer allure exuding from this woman stunned even Madame Tang, who had always been confident in her own beauty. But she quickly regained her composure. Though this woman was beautiful, the anger between her brows suggested she was not here with good intentions. “Someone—”

Madame Tang instinctively wanted to call for help, but before she could utter a sound, she was captivated by a pair of dazzling, jewel-like eyes.

“Look at me… look at me…” Huang Rong fixed her gaze on Madame Tang’s eyes, her voice turning ethereal and hypnotic.

Last night, after returning to her quarters, Huang Rong had bathed until nearly dawn. The gradually cooling water helped her calm down. Only then did she realize that her scheme had a major flaw—if Song Qingshu mentioned the events of the previous night to Madame Tang the next day, she would be utterly confused.

Although Huang Rong had meticulously staged the scene, Madame Tang might simply assume she was too exhausted to remember what had happened, without suspecting anything unusual. But Huang Rong couldn’t take that risk. Song Qingshu was an astute man, and if Madame Tang’s reaction exposed any inconsistencies, all of last night’s efforts would be wasted.

Recalling how she had gritted her teeth and endured Song Qingshu’s relentless assault all night just to avoid revealing her identity, Huang Rong was both humiliated and enraged. Having sacrificed so much, how could she allow a mistake at the final step?

At this point, Huang Rong was like a gambler who had lost all sense of retreat—she had no way back and could only go all in.

Thus, she lingered nearby. As soon as Song Qingshu left, she entered the room and used the Soul Capture Technique on Madame Tang, implanting memories of everything that had supposedly happened the night before.

Over the years, although Huang Rong possessed the full ‘Nine Yin Scripture’, her nature had made her less diligent in training, so her martial prowess was far inferior to her husband, Guo Jing. However, when it came to certain intricate techniques from the scripture, her proficiency far surpassed his.

The Soul Capture Technique was precisely such a technique. Guo Jing, being righteous and upright, considered it an unscrupulous and deceitful method and had never practiced it. Huang Rong, on the other hand, found it quite fascinating and had mastered it considerably. Though her cultivation level limited its effectiveness against skilled warriors, using it against Madame Tang, a noblewoman unversed in martial arts, was effortless.

Once she successfully entranced Madame Tang, Huang Rong meticulously etched the fabricated memories into her mind, ensuring no detail was overlooked. She couldn’t afford a single flaw—every word Song Qingshu had supposedly spoken, and even the precise manner in which he had “bullied” her, had to be implanted with absolute accuracy…

By the time Huang Rong left the room, a refreshing breeze brushed against her flushed cheeks, reminding her how warm her face had become. Having just relived the previous night’s events in detail, her mind was now flooded with those intense images.

The man’s aggression, his wildness, and the occasional flashes of unexpected tenderness… Huang Rong suddenly felt her legs go weak. She dared not dwell on it any longer and quickly covered her face, fleeing in haste.

Meanwhile, Song Qingshu remained unaware of everything that had transpired inside the room. His full attention was on avoiding detection by Wanyan Liang’s elite guards.

Sneaking back to Madame Tang’s original chamber, he was shocked to find that Wanyan Liang was no longer there. Alarmed, he hurried off to search elsewhere and finally tracked him down inside Tang Kuo Bian’s study.

Song Qingshu crouched beneath a secluded window, silently listening in on the conversation inside.

“Useless, all of you are useless! You still haven’t found Tang Kuo Bian’s whereabouts?” A furious voice erupted—it was clear Wanyan Liang was berating his subordinates.

“This subordinate is incompetent!” A trembling voice responded, laden with fear.

“Keep searching! I want him found, dead or alive! If you fail again today, don’t bother showing your face before me!” Wanyan Liang’s tone was icy.

“Yes!”

Soon, Song Qingshu sensed several people hastily leaving the room. Shortly after, Wanyan Liang’s voice rang out again, “Master Murong, did you discover any clues from the bodies of the dead assassins?”

“Your Highness, I examined their wounds. Every single one of them was slain with a single stroke, and the weapon used was their own blade. Clearly, the enemy seized their weapons and swiftly cut them down in an instant. Such skill is rarely seen in the martial world.”

A calm yet aged voice responded. Song Qingshu nodded inwardly—this was Murong Bo, the eccentric and unpredictable father of Murong Fu. Despite his eccentricities, his keen observational skills were undeniable. In just a few words, he had accurately described the events of the previous night as if he had witnessed them firsthand.

“For someone to infiltrate my heavily guarded estate, silently eliminate my elite assassins, and successfully abduct Tang Kuo Bian… Who dares oppose me like this?” A crisp sound echoed—it seemed Wanyan Liang had smashed his teacup to the floor in frustration.

“Your Highness, could this be the work of agents from the Emperor’s side?” Murong Bo asked hesitantly.

“Hmm…” Wanyan Liang took in a sharp breath. “That’s not impossible…”

A strange silence filled the room. Song Qingshu pondered the situation—so even within the Jin imperial court, under its seemingly calm surface, treacherous undercurrents were surging. It was clear that the Emperor and Wanyan Liang were deeply wary of each other. Sooner or later, one of them would make a decisive move.

“Actually, I suspect this might be the same person who rescued Huang Rong last night,” Wanyan Liang scoffed. At the thought of Huang Rong’s enchanting figure, a surge of frustration and lust clouded his mind. “That b*stard has thwarted my plans multiple times. If I ever find out who it is, I’ll tear him to pieces!”

“Your Highness need not worry. With Guo Jing in our grasp, Huang Rong will walk right into our trap sooner or later,” Murong Bo reassured, striking right at Wanyan Liang’s weakness.

“Hahaha! Mister Murong, if you truly manage to capture Huang Rong, I’ll make sure you receive the highest merit!” Wanyan Liang laughed heartily.

“Many thanks, Your Highness.” The room was soon filled with their ambiguous laughter.

Song Qingshu continued eavesdropping for a while longer, but once he discerned nothing further of importance, he quietly slipped away.

As he returned to the courtyard where his chamber was located, he suddenly paused, sensing something. Turning swiftly, his gaze locked onto a rockery nearby.

A woman with flushed cheeks stepped out from behind it, looking at him with a mix of shyness and playful reproach.

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