Chapter 765: Secrets

“Brother-in-law~” Wanyan Ping’s cheeks still flushed, she rested her head on Song Qingshu’s chest.

“Hm?” Song Qingshu, with a victor’s gaze, admired his prize—her sleek, flawless figure without an ounce of excess.

“I can’t imagine how my sister’s delicate frame handles your daily torment.” Wanyan Ping, trained in martial arts since childhood, thought herself sturdier than her sister, yet even she struggled to keep up. How could her sister endure it?

“You’re mistaken. Your sister may seem frail, but she trained in dance from a young age. Her body’s no weaker than yours, and her stamina in this regard far surpasses you.” Though Song Qingshu hadn’t been intimate with her sister, his experience told him she had an alluring inner charm. Most men wouldn’t last ten breaths with her—no wonder Tang Kuo Bian never sought other women.

“No way!” Wanyan Ping scoffed, unconvinced her sister could outdo her.

“Don’t believe me? Maybe one day you two can compete side by side,” Song Qingshu teased, now holding the antidote and in high spirits, even fantasizing about her sister.

“Dream on!” The absurd idea made Wanyan Ping blush. “Brother-in-law, promise me one thing—don’t tell my sister about today, okay?”

“Why?” Song Qingshu asked, curious.

“I feel like I’ve stolen something from her…” Wanyan Ping bit her lip, then pouted. “Just don’t tell her. When I’m ready, I’ll talk to her myself.”

“Alright, but that’s unfair to you,” Song Qingshu said, secretly relieved. Facing her gentle sister with this truth would’ve been tricky.

“With you, I’m not wronged at all,” Wanyan Ping said happily, hugging his arm.

Seeing her sweet expression, Song Qingshu felt a pang of regret. If she learned the truth someday, would it be too cruel?

*****

They slept entwined all night. 

At dawn, Song Qingshu and Wanyan Ping searched and found a way out of the valley. To their delight, Wanyan Ping’s little red horse was still nearby—Song Qingshu’s horse, however, was long gone.

Riding together toward Daxing Prefecture, Wanyan Ping, newly smitten, showered Song Qingshu with affection, details of which we’ll skip.

Near the city gate, Wanyan Ping refused to ride with him. Song Qingshu dismounted and led the horse on foot.

It was the same gate as before, guarded by the same soldiers. 

After they passed, the guards whispered:

“Told you! They went outside to mess around.”

“Hell, that was intense! His clothes are shredded, and her pants are half gone.”

“Did you see the princess’s lovesick look at her brother-in-law? She got it good last night!”

“D*mn, nobles get to bang their pretty sisters-in-law while we freeze guarding the gate.”

“Eh, that’s fate.”

*****

The morning streets were quiet. 

Song Qingshu and Wanyan Ping chatted softly, her laughter like blooming flowers, when he froze, spotting a lonely figure staggering from a side street.

“Brother Yang, long time no see!” It was Yang Guo, unkempt with a scruffy beard, reeking of alcohol. His clothes bore wall moss, his hair damp with dew. 

Song Qingshu was stunned—had he been drinking on the city wall all night? How did he fall so far so fast?

“Brother Yang?” Yang Guo gave a bitter smile. “Only you call me that in Jin now. But am I really a Yang?” Mumbling, he seemed uninterested in talking. About to leave, he saw Wanyan Ping on the horse and blurted, “Long’er!”

Wanyan Ping, gazing fondly at Song Qingshu, snapped out of it at Yang Guo’s shout. She frowned. “You’re that lost grandson of Prince Zhao, Wanyan Bingde?”

Yang Guo had caught her gaze at Song Qingshu, identical to how Xiao Longnu once looked at him. Hungover, he mistook her for Xiao Longnu. Her disdainful expression sobered him.

“No matter how I am, Long’er would never scorn me. You’re not her…” Ignoring her question, Yang Guo muttered, clutching his flask, and shuffled off.

Song Qingshu was floored. “Prince Zhao’s grandson? Wanyan Bingde?” Prince Zhao must be Wanyan Honglie. Yang Guo could indeed be his grandson, but who’s Wanyan Bingde?

“You’ve been recovering at home, so you wouldn’t know,” Wanyan Ping explained. “When Prince Zhao’s heir, Wanyan Kang, died in Song, his wife Mu Nianci was pregnant. After hearing of his death, she vanished from the prince’s mansion, never to be found. Without an heir, Prince Zhao’s line faded. Recently, King Hailing brought back Wanyan Kang’s posthumous son to claim his heritage, reviving hope for the line. They’re deeply grateful to King Hailing. Oh, the son’s name, Wanyan Bingde, is who you call Yang Guo.”

“Wait, how’s Wanyan Kang Prince Zhao’s heir? Didn’t Prince Zhao steal his wife, Bao Xiruo, from a Song man, Yang Tiexin? Isn’t Wanyan Kang her son with Yang Tiexin?” Song Qingshu pressed.

“The child Bao Xiruo had with her former husband was secretly killed. Wanyan Kang was her trueborn son with Prince Zhao.” Wanyan Ping eyed Song Qingshu suspiciously. “Brother-in-law, not many know this, but as head of the Tang Kuo clan, how don’t you?”