Flower Stealing Master

One of the two men had crane-white hair but a childlike face, his skin as smooth as a baby’s, without a single wrinkle. Though his head was full of white hair, his lively, darting eyes lacked the steadiness of an elder, making him look more like… a child.

The other man was lean and tall, dressed in a long, straight, blue robe with a matching square hat, exuding the air of a scholar. 

At a glance, Song Qingshu couldn’t help but admire him inwardly: ‘What an elegant and refined demeanor—distinguished, yet effortlessly poised. He must have been a heartthrob in his youth, charming countless women.’

When Huang Rong caught sight of the two men, especially the scholar’s face, she turned deathly pale, instinctively pushing Song Qingshu away.

Realizing that there were outsiders present, Song Qingshu immediately withdrew his hand from inside Huang Rong’s collar, his expression turning solemn as he faced the two men. “I do not recall ever meeting the two of you before. If I have somehow offended you, may I ask what the matter is?”

He could tell that both men possessed martial prowess comparable to Ouyang Feng, the Western Poison. He quickly curbed his usual arrogance, not wanting to recklessly provoke two supreme masters.

The white-haired, childlike elder sidestepped and pointed at the scholar. “He’s the one who ambushed you just now. It has nothing to do with me.”

The scholar’s expression was dark, almost ominous. He ignored Song Qingshu’s inquiry and instead fixed his gaze on Huang Rong. “Rong’er, did this despicable man take advantage of you?”

Huang Rong’s face turned even paler. Her emotions were a tangled mess—she didn’t know whether to say yes or no, so she remained frozen in place.

“Senior, this is surely a misunderstanding—” Song Qingshu quickly attempted to explain, but he was cut off before he could finish.

“Silence! Shameless scoundrel, how dare you defile Rong’er! Do you think I, Huang, will let you live?” The moment the words left his lips, he lunged at Song Qingshu with a deadly strike.

With only a fraction of his true strength left, Song Qingshu knew he was no match for this man. His best option was to take Huang Rong h0stage, forcing Huang Yaoshi to hold back. However, such a dishonorable tactic was beneath him. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for the incoming storm of relentless attacks.

Meanwhile, the white-haired elder didn’t join the fight. Instead, he curiously examined the damaged glider by Huang Rong’s side. He circled around it a few times, occasionally poking at the fabric with his finger, clicking his tongue in amazement.

Huang Rong watched as Song Qingshu struggled in the battle, her heart in turmoil. Not long ago, she had wished nothing more than to see this man torn to pieces. Yet now, watching him on the verge of death, she found herself unable to take any pleasure in it.

Lost in thought, she suddenly felt a tug on her sleeve. Turning around, she saw the white-haired elder looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Rong’er, how does this thing fly? Do you know?”

Huang Rong had no time for such trivial matters. She shook her head absentmindedly. “I don’t know.” Her attention was fixed on the battle before her.

Hearing her response, the elder looked utterly disappointed. But after a moment, his eyes sparkled as he turned to Song Qingshu, who was barely holding on. “Young man, how does this thing fly? Teach me, won’t you?”

Song Qingshu was both startled and irritated. He was already struggling to stay alive in the middle of a fierce battle—how could he entertain such a ridiculous question? Yet, the old man persisted, pestering him endlessly. Frustrated, Song Qingshu snapped, “Why should I teach you?”

“You’re right. Why should you?” The old man didn’t seem offended at all. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “If I knew something this incredible, I wouldn’t teach anyone either.” Yet, the thought of soaring through the sky made him itch with excitement. Desperate to learn, he scratched his head furiously, making his messy white hair look even more like a bird’s nest.

“Aha!” The old man’s eyes lit up. He grinned slyly and said, “Young man, you don’t seem like you can hold out much longer against Huang Yaoshi. How about this? Teach me how this thing flies, and I’ll hold him off for you.”

Song Qingshu hesitated for a moment, but before he could respond, Huang Yaoshi roared in anger. “Old Imp! This man has harmed Rong’er. If you dare help him, I will be your enemy till the end of time!”

‘”Old Imp?”‘ Realization dawned on Song Qingshu. ‘So he’s Old Imp Zhou Botong! No wonder he feels so familiar—his eccentric behavior is exactly as described in the original stories.’

Zhou Botong scratched his head in distress. “Now that puts me in a difficult spot. Young man, why did you have to mess with Rong’er? Don’t you know women are the most troublesome creatures in the world?”

A sudden thought flashed through Song Qingshu’s mind. Right now, his greatest need was time—if he could just get a moment to recover his strength, he wouldn’t have to fear Huang Yaoshi at all. Zhou Botong was naïve and whimsical—perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

“Old Imp, if you hold off Huang Yaoshi for just the time it takes to burn three sticks of incense, I’ll teach you how to fly. Then, you can soar freely through the skies.”

Zhou Botong’s excitement was obvious. Huang Yaoshi, however, had been watching him closely and immediately grew furious. “Zhou Botong! Rong’er isn’t just my daughter; she’s also the wife of your sworn brother, Guo Jing. Are you really going to side with an outsider against her?”

Zhou Botong knew Huang Yaoshi had a point, but the temptation of flight was overwhelming. He paced back and forth like an ant on a hot pan. In the end, curiosity won over loyalty. He chuckled sheepishly, “Old Huang, with your Qinggong, what difference does three incense sticks’ worth of time make? You could catch up to him anytime. Besides, I’ll help you chase him afterward. Back in the day, I chased Iron Iron Palm Skimming on Water, Qiu Qianren, from Jiangnan all the way to the desert—over ten thousand miles! There’s no one in this world I can’t catch.”

Huang Yaoshi snorted coldly. “If it were any other matter, I might agree. But this is non-negotiable.” As he spoke, his sleeve flicked, sending a tiny, colorful snake flying toward Zhou Botong.

“Ahhh! A snake! A snake!” Zhou Botong shrieked, flailing in panic. His fear of snakes rendered him utterly helpless.

Seeing Zhou Botong momentarily incapacitated, Huang Rong suddenly bit her lip, as if making a difficult decision. In a flash, she leaped toward Song Qingshu, shouting, “Scoundrel! I’ll kill you myself!”

Despite his weakened state, Song Qingshu was still more than capable of handling Huang Rong. But he was wary of hurting her, so he merely neutralized her attack. As he whispered into her ear with a wry smile, “Rong’er, we were just intimate, and now you’re already turning against me?”

Huang Rong’s face flushed red. Taking advantage of the moment, she whispered urgently, “Now’s your chance—take me hostage!”

Song Qingshu, quick-witted as ever, immediately caught on. Without hesitation, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace just as Huang Yaoshi’s palm strike arrived. Seeing his daughter in Song Qingshu’s grasp, Huang Yaoshi withdrew his attack and leapt aside.

Song Qingshu laughed heartily and pushed Huang Rong toward Huang Yaoshi. “Many thanks for your mercy, Master Huang. Until we meet again!” In a flash, he vanished into the distance.

Huang Yaoshi, fearing that Song Qingshu had used some hidden force against his daughter, instinctively reached out to catch her. This brief delay cost him his chance to pursue. 

Meanwhile, Zhou Botong, who had been watching intently, immediately took off after Song Qingshu, shouting, “Young man, wait! You still haven’t taught me how to fly!”

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