Flower Stealing Master

The ship was ablaze with firelight. Sailors and passengers alike fled shrieking in every direction while a pack of savage, hard-faced men swept through the vessel hunting them down.

“What in the world —” Song Qingshu’s brow furrowed. His first thought was that Wan Qili and Wan Gui had learned of Taohong’s failure and dispatched men to tie up loose ends.

He dismissed the idea almost immediately. He himself had disposed of Taohong and the others — there was no way Wan Qili could have found out yet. Besides, these men below were cutting down everyone in sight. Far too much noise for a quiet assassination.

Then footsteps came thundering up the staircase. Song Qingshu slipped back into the shadows. A moment later, Innkeeper Du’s frantic voice reached them: “Young Mistress! Young Mistress?”

At Song Qingshu’s nod, Qi Fang sat up and called back: “What is it?”

“River pirates, my lady — came out of nowhere, savage as devils,” Du blurted, his voice shaking. “They’re looting the ship and killing everyone they find. You must flee, my lady — flee now!”

Qi Fang frowned. “We’re almost at Lin’an. What pirates would dare operate this close?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, my lady,” Du said, already beyond patience. “Just find a way out — please!” And without waiting for her response, he went clattering back down the stairs.

He’d hoped to use Qi Fang as a connection to the Minister’s household — but his neck came first. Warning her at all had been little more than an afterthought.

When Du’s footsteps faded, Song Qingshu stepped out of the shadows and stood watching his retreating figure in thought. Qi Fang looked to him anxiously. “What do we do?”

He returned to the window and looked down — then his gaze sharpened.

“We should hide. For now.”

What he had spotted were two figures standing at ease in the thick of the pirates, watching the chaos unfold with the detached calm of men who owned the place. One was plump and pale-faced in a rich golden robe, a benign smile fixed permanently to his face. The other was lean and tall in black, his expression carrying the permafrost of a man who believed the whole world owed him money.

And Song Qingshu knew them both.

The Reward and Punishment Envoys of Isle of Heroes — Zhang San and Li Si.

‘What are they doing here?’ Song Qingshu’s brow creased. Isle of Heroes had always kept to the shadows. What business did they have playing pirates?

Under ordinary circumstances, Song Qingshu would have had little reason to fear these two — who made the blood of countless smaller sects run cold across the Central Plains. Their last meeting at the inn had gone rather worse for them than for him. But with the remnant poison still lurking in his meridians and his inner energy nowhere near restored, he could handle run-of-the-mill martial artists well enough. Against a pair at the level of Zhang San and Li Si, he stood no real chance.

He briefly considered bluffing — putting on a show of confidence, trading on the memory of their last encounter. He abandoned the idea at once. Word of his poisoning and the price on his head had almost certainly spread from Yangzhou by now. The moment Zhang San and Li Si had heard it, they would never be bluffed again. They would seize on his weakness and return the favour from that night at the inn.

Disorderly footsteps echoed up the staircase. Song Qingshu wasted no more time — he seized Qi Fang’s hand and made for the rear window. “With me — now!”

He went out first, dropping from the sill. His cultivation might be suppressed, but his body remained light and his technique sharp; a drop of one or two zhang was nothing.

“Jump down — don’t be afraid. I’ll catch you.” He opened his arms and looked up.

Qi Fang bit her lip — and did not jump into his arms. She shifted her weight, and floated down beside him as lightly as a falling leaf, landing with a poise that put his own exit to shame.

She caught his astonished look and pressed her lips together in a small smile. “Have you forgotten? I trained in martial arts too. A little drop like that is nothing.”

“Of course, of course. My lady is a true heroine.” Song Qingshu smiled back — though inwardly he sighed. Qi Fang had training, yes, but her level was far too low for anything beyond dealing with common street roughs. Against a real fighter she would be helpless.

‘I should have spent these past few days guiding her in martial arts instead of pulling her back to bed every free moment.’ He regretted it now — for all the good that did.

“Someone down there!” A shout rang out from above. In her haste to descend, Qi Fang had left the window open, and a pirate sweeping the upper deck had noticed something amiss.

Footsteps converged on them from all sides. Song Qingshu gave a wry smile and did the only thing available — took Qi Fang’s hand and ran. But there was no time to find decent cover, and within moments a ring of men had boxed them into a corner.

“Let me have a few mouthfuls,” Song Qingshu said, pulling Qi Fang behind him and speaking fast. “I’ll deal with these men, then we’ll talk.”

“Absolutely not!” Qi Fang’s face went scarlet. Out here, in plain sight of everyone — she could never bring herself to do that.

“Kill them,” a minor leader among the pirates ordered. Blades rose.

“Hold on.” Zhang San and Li Si stepped forward. Zhang San’s eyes lit up the moment he took in Qi Fang’s face. “And where might you be headed, little lady?”

Qi Fang glanced instinctively at Song Qingshu for guidance. He gave a small nod — play along, say anything. He was quietly relieved he’d kept Sixi’s disguise on; without it, Zhang San and Li Si would have recognised him on the spot.

“We’re… travelling to Lin’an to visit family,” Qi Fang said, her composure slightly off.

Song Qingshu suppressed a sigh. She really had cast everything to do with her husband’s family from her heart entirely — otherwise, dropping the name of the Minister’s household might have given these pirates a moment’s pause. As a perfectly ordinary woman travelling home to see relatives, she had given them no reason whatsoever to hold back.

“A fine-looking lady,” Zhang San observed, noting her hair ornaments and correctly deducing she was married. His gaze shifted to Song Qingshu at her side. “And who is this gentleman to the lady?”

“He… he is my… my husband.” The words were barely out of Qi Fang’s mouth before her face had turned completely red.

Song Qingshu hadn’t expected that either. He turned to her with an amused smile, which only made her stand there more flustered than before.

“Woman — pretty, keep her. Husband — useless, kill him.” Li Si spoke flatly from the side.

The Isle of Heroes men moved to comply — but Zhang San raised a hand. “Wait.”

Li Si looked at him in puzzlement.

Zhang San smiled pleasantly. “Have you forgotten that gentleman’s particular tastes? He has a specific fondness for married women. This little lady is lovely enough, but if her husband is dead — well, I expect she’d lose a fair measure of her appeal in his eyes.”

Li Si’s expression cleared, though the contempt in his voice was undiminished. “Young as he is, and he’s already chasing other men’s w!ves. Perverse.”

Zhang San quickly grabbed his arm. “Keep your voice down — that young lord is the Island Master’s honoured guest. If someone carries that remark back to the wrong ears, you’ll be on the receiving end of a serious punishment.”

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