Flower Stealing Master

Before his subordinates could uncover any leads, Song Qingshu received Sue Etu and his party. Learning that her “big brother” was the hero she idolized, Wu Yunzhu was overjoyed. Recalling how he had carried her, soaring through the air, she was so ecstatic she nearly fainted from happiness.

Uncertain about the identity of the enemy lurking in the shadows, Song Qingshu decided to keep his focus on potential threats. Abandoning his initial plan to make things difficult for the envoys and exploit the negotiations, he conducted an efficient discussion with Sue Etu, readily agreeing to the latter’s demands. Sue Etu was both shocked and delighted, assuming Song Qingshu acted out of consideration for old camaraderie.

Wu Yunzhu, upon hearing of the progress from her father, instinctively believed it was because of her. Her heart raced with excitement, an outcome Song Qingshu had not anticipated.

Although Wu Yunzhu longed to stay with Song Qingshu for a few more days, Sue Etu needed to return swiftly to report back. As a noblewoman, she couldn’t possibly remain out on her own.

“Big Brother, will you come to the capital to see me in the future?” Wu Yunzhu’s eyes turned red as she bid farewell. She knew that after this incident, sneaking out again would be nearly impossible.

“I will, I promise,” Song Qingshu said, his face softening slightly for the first time in days when he saw the purity in her eyes.

“Big Brother, you must come soon. Otherwise, after the ceasefire ends, it might be difficult for you to visit the capital,” Wu Yunzhu said, her brows furrowed with worry. As a noblewoman of the Eight Banners and with Song Qingshu labeled a notorious rebel, their identities created insurmountable barriers.

Unconcerned by such matters, Song Qingshu smiled and replied, “Don’t worry. Even after the ceasefire ends, I’ll find a way to visit.” For him, the capital was practically his second stronghold.

Unaware of his hidden plans, Wu Yunzhu simply assumed his martial prowess made entering and leaving the capital easy, so she thought no further.

Considering the previous attack on the envoy’s party, Song Qingshu worried about a repeat incident that might strain the relationship between the Golden Serpent Camp and the Qing Dynasty. Moreover, he didn’t want harm to come to the adorable Wu Yunzhu. To ensure their safety, he dispatched a unit of elite cavalry to escort Sue Etu and his daughter back to the capital.

Even renowned martial artists like Zuo Lengchan could only look on in awe when faced with such a well-trained military force.

“Master, that young lady clearly has feelings for you. Why not keep her here?” Ah Zi huffed softly, though her words carried a different tone. Watching Wu Yunzhu repeatedly glance back at the departing carriage, her jealousy bubbled beneath the surface.

“She’s a noblewoman of the distinguished Plain Yellow Banner. Her family would never tolerate her getting close to a rebel like me,” Song Qingshu said with a dismissive smile.

“Just another Manchu official’s daughter—what nobility?” Ah Zi grumbled, feeling irked by her master’s praise of Wu Yunzhu. Suddenly, her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Master, you’re lying. With your personality, even if she were a princess or an empress, you’d have countless ways to keep her if you wanted. But despite her obvious infatuation, you let her go. Isn’t that strange?”

Having witnessed how he toyed with Ren Yingying a few days ago, Ah Zi admired his cunning methods, unlike anything she had seen during her years in the Xingxiu Sect.

Song Qingshu couldn’t help but laugh. “Ah Zi, you’re quick to understand my nature. You don’t dislike me for it, do you?”

“Why would I?” Ah Zi asked, puzzled. “I admire your ruthless ways. If you were a gentleman, I’d find that intimidating instead.”

Song Qingshu raised an eyebrow. Ah Zi truly understood him and had become increasingly considerate. Though he lacked a maid like Xiao Zhao, Ah Zi, under the influence of the Soul Capture Technique, was proving just as devoted.

After her persistent questioning, Song Qingshu finally explained, “This time, my… father’s whereabouts remain unknown. How could I think about anything else? Once I find clues, I may not be able to take you along. At that point, stay here and assist Ah Jiu and Qingshu.”

Hearing she’d be left alone to face the two mistresses, Ah Zi panicked. “Master, I just want to stay by your side!”

Recalling Ah Zi’s many charms, Song Qingshu’s heart wavered. But he quickly regained focus and replied, “I’ll be traveling with my grandmaster this time. How would it look if I brought a maid along?”

“I can serve Grandmaster too! If it’s just the two of you, wouldn’t you end up doing all the hard work yourself?” Ah Zi argued.

“My decision is final. No more discussion.” Song Qingshu shook his head. “With our martial skills, my grandmaster and I can move like the wind and handle any situation with ease. Bringing you along would only complicate things.”

“Understood,” Ah Zi replied, visibly disappointed.

“Golden Serpent King, Esteemed Ninth Princess discovered an abandoned temple near the border that might hold clues,” a Golden Serpent Camp soldier reported.

Song Qingshu’s expression shifted as he grabbed Ah Zi’s hand. “Let’s go inform Grandmaster.”

Together, Song Qingshu and Zhang Sanfeng arrived at the derelict temple. The scene was chaotic, evidence of an intense battle.

“This is Liting’s sword!” Zhang Sanfeng exclaimed, pulling a longsword from a pile of dried grass, his expression filled with emotion.

“Grandmaster, look here!” Song Qingshu pointed at a deep palm imprint on a wooden pillar. “Did Fourth or Sixth Uncle practice advanced palm techniques?”

“This isn’t the palm print of Songxi or Liting,” Zhang Sanfeng replied. He examined the imprint closely, his brows furrowed in thought. After a while, he murmured, “This is the Prajna Palm of Shaolin.”

“The Prajna Palm?” Song Qingshu’s gaze turned sharp. ‘Shaolin… I wasn’t looking for trouble with you, but you’ve provoked me instead.’

“Yes. Among Shaolin’s 72 Ultimate Techniques, there are many palm styles, such as the Diamond Palm, Thousand Hands Buddha’s Palm, and Mount Meru Palm. All are incredibly powerful. However, the Prajna Palm is recognized as Shaolin’s foremost palm technique. That’s why I’m puzzled.”

“What puzzles you, Grandmaster?” Song Qingshu asked.

“If it were any other palm technique, Shaolin has hundreds of disciples over the centuries, so it’s not uncommon for some techniques to leak. But the Prajna Palm is Shaolin’s supreme technique, taught only to a select few high monks, safeguarded with utmost secrecy. It’s impossible for anyone else to frame them. But why would Shaolin do this?” Zhang Sanfeng muttered, pacing back and forth in the temple, clearly baffled. 

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