Flower Stealing Master

Song Qingshu initially wore a confused expression, thinking, “Whose maid is this? To have such nerve as to bump into the King’s carriage!” But his heart soon skipped a beat—could she be from Tang Kuo Bian’s household?

In recent days he had learned various details about Tang Kuo Bian’s family through different channels; yet knowing something was one thing and being able to recognize a person was quite another. He dared not act rashly for fear that a mistake might arouse Wanyan Liang’s suspicions.

Fortunately, Wanyan Liang spoke up first: “The Madame’s affection for Brother Tang Kuo is something this King truly envies—waiting for you at the city gate at the crack of dawn!”

As he spoke, he followed the direction indicated by the maid, his eyes fixed on the luxurious carriage in the distance, a trace of eager longing flashing in them.

“Please excuse me, King,” Song Qingshu managed with an awkward smile.

“Don’t be so formal, haha. Come on, let’s go meet Gebi—I haven’t seen my dear sister in ages,” Wanyan Liang said as he cheerfully grabbed Song Qingshu’s arm, intent on heading that way.

“Ahem, ahem…” Fortunately, Song Qingshu, ever cautious not to reveal any flaws, immediately feigned a weak demeanor without hesitation.

Wanyan Liang placed a hand on his forehead, as if suddenly recalling something. “Look at my memory—I had completely forgotten that Brother Tang Kuo is severely injured at the moment. Someone, drive the carriage over here!”

Song Qingshu’s mind swirled with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure whether Wanyan Liang had been testing him deliberately or what; how could he know that the reason for his haste to see Tang Kuo Bian’s beautiful wife was that he had, in truth, forgotten about Song Qingshu’s “injury”?

A delicate, snow-white hand extended from within the carriage and lifted the curtain. Just by glimpsing that slender, jade-like hand, Song Qingshu couldn’t help but silently admire it. One must remember that the aristocrats of the Jin state were all Jurchens—raised on horseback, the men were robust and more battle-hardened than the folk of Jiangnan. 

In contrast, Jurchen women typically did not have skin as fair and delicate as that of Jiangnan women; yet none of those shortcomings were evident in her. With that one graceful hand alone, she could shame countless Jiangnan maidens.

“Wogula, has your injury improved at all?” (G: Wogula 斡骨剌, a noun.)

A soft, glutinous female voice rang out. Compared to Han women, her diction was somewhat peculiar, yet her voice was melodious, and Song Qingshu found it uniquely charming.

As the voice resounded, a stunning woman in palace attire gracefully stepped from the carriage. Her delicate face was every bit as refined as that of a Jiangnan maiden, but what struck Song Qingshu most were her eyebrows—not the faint, willow-leaf shape typical of Jiangnan women, but a pair that carried a hint of heroic spirit. Yet these eyebrows in no way detracted from her beauty; rather, they perfectly balanced her tender features with an air of vigor.

‘How could she bear such a resemblance to Tong Liya?’

Upon clearly seeing her features, Song Qingshu was momentarily dazed—as if transported back to his past life, when he recalled the famous beauty from period dramas renowned for her ancient costumes. However, he soon regained his composure, noting that this woman was distinctly different from Tong Liya; her skin was lighter, and her figure even more statuesque.

‘Truly, she is the finest beauty in the Jin state,’ Song Qingshu silently admired inwardly. After all, in his past life, Tong Liya had been the dream girl of countless men, and now here was an enhanced version who would effortlessly outclass the bumpkins of the Jin state.

Wogula was the Jurchen name of Tang Kuo Bian, and Song Qingshu had long prepared such details. Seeing the concern on her face, he silently sighed inwardly; ‘this poor woman still did not know that her husband was already dead…’

Quickly regaining his composure—and mimicking Tang Kuo Bian’s habits—Song Qingshu patted his chest with a series of resounding smacks and declared, “I’m fine; my body is in great shape. A little injury won’t kill me.”

Seeing her husband’s childish antics, Wanyan Gebi felt an overwhelming fondness and couldn’t help but smile knowingly, a faint dimple appearing at the corner of her mouth. Even Song Qingshu, who was no stranger to beauty, was momentarily stunned: ‘My dear, now I truly understand what they mean by a single glance unleashing a hundred charms—I’ve witnessed it firsthand today.’

It wasn’t only him who was spellbound; even the illustrious King Wanyan Liang—who had seen his share of beautiful women—was utterly captivated, his eyes wide with astonishment: ‘If I could have Gebi accompany me for one evening, my life would be worthwhile! Alas, this time Huang Rong slipped out of my grasp. Otherwise, with these two women in my arms, I could send all the concubines in the mansion packing!’

At that moment, Wanyan Gebi finally noticed Wanyan Liang beside her husband; the smile that had just surfaced froze instantly, and she hurriedly performed a courtesy bow: “Greetings, Hailing King.”

Wanyan Liang laughed heartily and, reaching out to support her, said, “Gebi, there’s no need for such formality between us as siblings.”

Wanyan Gebi smiled faintly, straightened her posture imperceptibly, and deftly evaded his hand as she said, “The Imperial Brother often speaks of Hailing King as one of the pillars of our state, so it is only proper that I pay my respects.”

At last, Song Qingshu understood the difference between Wanyan Gebi and Madame Tang. Though both were breathtaking beauties—and in terms of looks Madame Tang was no less alluring—the greatest difference lay in their temperament. Madame Tang exuded a seductive allure, whereas Wanyan Gebi’s faint smile, though equally enchanting, was swiftly replaced by a dignified, noble air. One must know that men tend to take for granted what comes too easily, whereas the noble and refined stir a man’s desire all the more.

Thus, although the two women were comparably attractive, it was their differing dispositions that crowned Wanyan Gebi as the finest beauty in the Jin state, rather than Madame Tang.

After a few casual exchanges with Wanyan Liang, Wanyan Gebi shifted her attention back to her husband. 

Noticing his pale complexion (Song Qingshu had applied herbal juice and, aided by his inner strength, deliberately feigned weakness), she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow and said, “Wogula, come back to the mansion with me so you can rest properly for a while.”

Song Qingshu looked embarrassed. Truth be told, although the woman before him was extraordinarily beautiful, he did not feel like being alone with her at that moment. So he offered an excuse, “I still have to go to the Ministry of Personnel to report on my duties…”

Wanyan Gebi shook her head, walked over, and casually linked her arm with his, saying, “I already discussed this matter with the Imperial Brother in the palace, and he agreed that you should take some time to recuperate. You need not worry about the Ministry for now. Besides, regarding the situation in Kaifeng on this trip, someone will naturally come to your mansion to inquire another day.”

“Ah, I see.” As the soft touch of her bosom transmitted along his arm, Song Qingshu’s expression immediately grew peculiar.

A flash of jealousy passed through Wanyan Liang’s eyes, and he burst into laughter, saying, “Brother Tang Kuo is truly fortunate! My dear sister is the Emperor’s favorite; since she has petitioned the palace, the Emperor will surely not make things difficult for you.”

Wanyan Gebi smiled sweetly, “Gebi must also thank Hailing King for taking care of Wogula along the way. However, since he is seriously injured at the moment, I must have the Imperial Physician attend to his condition, leaving me no time to entertain you, King… Hmm, once Wogula recovers in a couple of days, the two of us will prepare a modest serving of wine to thank you for your kindness.”

Although Wanyan Liang noted that her words were courteous, the intent to bid farewell was unmistakable, and he naturally didn’t dare impose further. So he could only laugh and say, “Then, for the sake of this wine, I shall also wish Brother Tang Kuo a speedy recovery! Hahaha~”

Upon hearing that they intended to have an Imperial Physician examine him, Song Qingshu felt a surge of exasperation. Though he knew her intentions were kind, the truth was he wasn’t truly injured—what if the physician’s skill was so superb that he saw right through his disguise?

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