Song Qingshu clicked his tongue in amazement at this. *These people are truly ruthless.* “But what if this provokes a war between the Mongols and the Great Song?”
“Rest assured, Young Master,” the leader replied. “This matter will be completely untraceable. We have made prior arrangements. All clues will point to the Jin Dynasty. Even if Prince Ruyang’s residence sends investigators, they will only deploy their forces against the Jin. It will be perfect—letting them fight like dogs tearing at each other.”
Song Qingshu was filled with emotion. *The officials of the Southern Song are useless in battle, but when it comes to conspiracy and scheming, they are second to none. Jia Sidao and Wan Qili are political enemies, yet they’ve arrived at the same idea. The only difference is that one is trying to provoke a Mongol-Jin war, while the other is trying to provoke a Mongol-Song war.*
Their conversation was heard clearly by Zhao Min not far away. Beside herself with shock and fury, she couldn’t help cursing the Xuanming Elders. “You two have ruined everything! Now our last hope is gone.”
Lu Zhangke glanced at Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang, who had also been captured, and chuckled. “We’re doomed anyway. Having a few beauties to accompany us on the road to the underworld is better than walking it alone.” Even in this situation, Zhao Min’s lingering authority kept him from daring to think of her in that way. His remarks only mentioned Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang.
Song Qingshu happened to overhear Lu Zhangke’s words and laughed. “Who said they would accompany you on the road to the underworld?” As he spoke, he walked over, wrapping his left arm around Zhou Zhiruo and his right arm around Zhao Min. Feeling the astonishing softness of their bodies, he deliberately put on a lecherous, entranced expression. “With two such exquisite beauties, why would I ever want to kill them?”
Zhou Zhiruo, at least, knew his true identity, so being held by him was tolerable. Still, seeing him embrace Zhao Min right in front of her infuriated her. If not for the risk of exposing his identity, she would have lunged at him and bitten that philandering man.
Zhao Min, however, raised her delicate brows, about to unleash her fury. “Take your filthy hands off me!”
“And what if I don’t?” As if to prove his point, Song Qingshu slid a finger across her cheek as he spoke, his manner utterly frivolous.
*Smoother than egg white,* Song Qingshu marveled silently.
Zhao Min glared at him, her eyes filled with murderous intent. Before she could erupt, Zhou Zhiruo snapped, “Don’t t0uch her!”
Song Qingshu reflexively quipped, “If I don’t t0uch her, should I t0uch you instead?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. *I’m getting too into character. For a moment, I forgot who she really is.*
Zhou Zhiruo blushed. To his surprise, she straightened up, thrust out her chest, and pressed her lips together. “If your hands really can’t stay still, then t0uch me instead.”
Watching the couple’s little drama, Lan Fenghuang wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. She turned her head away, struggling to hold it in.
Zhao Min, unaware of the underlying truth, was deeply moved to see her former rival showing such concern for her. “Zhiruo, why are you so good to me?”
Noticing the strange looks from those around her, Zhou Zhiruo also realized that her behavior had been somewhat illogical. Worried about exposing Song Qingshu’s identity, she quickly explained, “Hmph, I’m just repaying you for trying to warn us to leave earlier. I don’t like being indebted to anyone—especially you, Zhao Min.”
To her surprise, Zhao Min smiled brightly. “I suddenly find you quite adorable sometimes.”
Zhou Zhiruo spat and turned away, refusing to acknowledge her.
Song Qingshu laughed heartily. “That’s more like it. Sisters should be united and affectionate. It will save me from worrying about harem troubles in the future.”
“Shut up!” Both women glared at him in unison.
“Ahem…” The masked leader, somewhat disapproving of his constant teasing of the two women, couldn’t help reminding him, “We should leave here as soon as possible. Once we return to the island, the Young Master may do as he pleases.”
“Of course, of course,” Song Qingshu replied, all the while thinking of how to extricate himself.
“The rain outside has nearly stopped. We should prepare to travel,” the masked leader said, beginning to arrange for his companions to escort Zhao Min and the others. As he passed by Song Qingshu, he suddenly stopped and looked at him curiously. “Young Master, why are you wearing a mask?”
As soon as he said this, Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang stiffened, their hearts leaping into their throats.
Song Qingshu, however, remained unhurried. Pointing at Zhou Zhiruo in the distance, he said, “It’s because of that woman. After she captured me, she was worried others might recognize my identity, so she put this mask on my head. I don’t know how she designed this mask, but I can’t get it off no matter what. Why don’t you take a look for me?”
“Very well,” the leader replied, unsuspecting. He walked straight over, holding the Heaven Sword that Zhou Zhiruo had dropped earlier. “If all else fails, this Heaven Sword can cut through iron like mud. Don’t worry, Young Master.”
The man came before Song Qingshu and set the Heaven Sword aside. “Young Master, please sit down first. Let me examine how this mask is designed.”
“No problem.” Song Qingshu sat down accordingly, but his eyes were secretly calculating the positions of the masked men.
“Let me have a look.” The masked leader leaned down next to Song Qingshu’s head and examined it carefully. “Hmm, this mask seems…”
Suspicion arose in his heart. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt a chill in his chest. He looked down in disbelief to see that Jia Baoyu’s two fingers were pressed against his heart. The sharp sword Qi instantly destroyed the vitality within his body. In that flash of lightning, the events of the past moments replayed in his mind. He finally understood, but as he tried to warn his companions, he found he had neither the strength nor the means.
“Is something the matter?” Though Song Qingshu had moved as carefully as possible, those present were all top-tier masters. They had faintly sensed the momentary killing intent and now turned to look.
Song Qingshu’s form suddenly moved. The blazing bonfire in the center of the room seemed to have been struck by a strong gust of wind. It exploded into a shower of sparks that filled the entire dilapidated temple, causing the light to flicker and dance.
Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang were fine—they had been mentally prepared. Zhao Min and her group, however, were stunned. They strained their eyes, trying to see what was happening. But they were immersed in a sea of killing intent so thick and tangible that they could neither see anything nor hear any sound.
It felt as long as an eternity, yet also as brief as an instant. The air around them finally returned to normal. Zhao Min gasped for breath, her entire body soaked in cold sweat. The heavy, hurried breathing beside her told her, without even looking, that the Vajra Sect Master and the Xuanming Elders were in no better state than she was.
The sparks gradually dissipated, and Zhao Min finally saw the scene before her clearly.
Apart from the masked leader, who knelt on the ground with his head drooped, the other seventeen masked men stood with their eyes wide open in fury, like so many crouching tigers, surrounding a young man with long, windblown hair.
The young man had sword-like brows and starry eyes, and the corner of his lips seemed forever curled into a hateful yet alluring smile. Who else could it be but Song Qingshu? The mask on his face, unable to withstand the killing intent that had exploded in that instant, had long since fallen away to who knows where.
Seeing the seventeen masked men poised to pounce, as if they would tear him to shreds in an instant, Zhao Min’s heart clenched with anxiety. The words tumbled out: “Be careful! These people’s martial arts are extremely… extremely…”
She suddenly fell silent, shocked. For she had noticed the gleaming Heaven Sword in Song Qingshu’s hand—and on its tip hung a single, vivid drop of blood.
As if triggered by the vibration of her voice, a fine mist of blood bloomed simultaneously from the necks of the masked men. In the light of the fire, faintly visible, delicate, and eerie rainbows appeared.
As the blood mist sprayed forth, the masked men seemed to have all their strength drained away. One by one, they collapsed limply to the ground. Only then did Zhao Min see their expressions clearly. They were not filled with the fury she had initially assumed, but with utter terror and… disbelief.
The Vajra Sect Master and the Xuanming Elders looked as if their jaws had dropped to the floor. They had personally experienced the martial arts of these mysterious masked masters. Each of the Xuanming Elders could handle only one masked man. The Vajra Sect Master was somewhat better—he could barely manage two or three. But there had been eighteen of them, and they had swarmed him without any regard for *jianghu* etiquette. He hadn’t lasted the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea before being severely wounded and captured.
Yet now, these eighteen terrifying masters had been killed in an instant before their very eyes! And throughout the entire process, like Zhao Min, they had been unable to see a thing.
Song Qingshu freed Zhou Zhiruo and Lan Fenghuang from their bonds and walked over to Zhao Min. Seeing her red lips slightly parted in shock, he smiled faintly. “We meet again.”
Zhao Min blushed. Born in Mongolia and naturally bold and passionate by temperament, she rarely displayed coy, girlish awkwardness. But that smile of his set her heart racing. She sighed inwardly. *Every time, this bastard smiles at me like that. In the end, he’s gotten to me.*
But with Zhou Zhiruo present, she would never admit to anything. After taking a deep breath to steady her turbulent emotions, she said with feigned naturalness, “You’ve deceived me so cruelly. The mighty Golden Serpent King, willingly playing the part of a powder-faced, worthless dandy.”
By now, she had seen the clothes Song Qingshu was wearing. Connecting that with everything that had happened, how could she not understand the full picture?
Song Qingshu reached out and lifted her chin, examining her exquisitely beautiful face up close. “A woman who is too clever is not always a good thing.”
Caught in such an intimate posture, Zhao Min had no time to ponder the meaning of his words. Biting her red lips, she replied in a silky, affected voice, “Aren’t you afraid Sister Zhou will be angry, treating me like this right in front of her?”
To her surprise, Zhou Zhiruo, standing nearby, laughed even more brightly than she did. “Why would I be jealous of a woman about to die?”