After answering the women’s questions, Song Qingshu used the One Yang Finger to seal several major acupoints on Dongfang Muxue’s body. Aided by his powerful internal energy, Dongfang Muxue finally stirred back to consciousness.
“You know the condition of your injuries. I must treat you quickly, or even the gods won’t save you,” Song Qingshu said as he continued channeling internal energy into her.
Dongfang Muxue closed her eyes and carefully assessed her injuries. Soon, she smiled bitterly. “My meridians are utterly ruined. Even if the gods came now, they couldn’t save me.”
Lan Fenghuang let out a mournful cry and knelt before the bed. “Mistress, don’t lose heart. Young Master Song is here. He is a god.” In her heart, she had always revered Dongfang Muxue as a divine being. If she herself said she was beyond saving, then it was likely true. Her only hope now lay with Song Qingshu.
“Fenghuang, human strength has its limits. Don’t be overly demanding.” Dongfang Muxue reached out and stroked Lan Fenghuang’s head, her gaze full of affection. But with her severe injuries, even such a simple movement triggered a fit of coughing.
Song Qingshu’s expression was peculiar. He wondered what exactly the relationship was between Dongfang Muxue and Lan Fenghuang. Something about it felt like the sour smell of romance. Dongfang Muxue’s mindset was indeed ahead of its time. And Lan Fenghuang was utterly devoted to her.
Seeing Lan Fenghuang weeping as she held Dongfang Muxue, Zhao Min could not help clearing her throat. “Brother Qingshu said her injuries are severe. He didn’t say she can’t be saved. Why are you acting as if you’re bidding farewell?”
Zhao Min was quick-witted and, as an outsider, had already deduced most of the situation from Song Qingshu’s reactions.
“Young Master Song, can she really be saved?” Lan Fenghuang turned to Song Qingshu, her eyes brimming with tears.
Song Qingshu glared at Zhao Min, annoyed that she had ruined his moment. Then he nodded and stepped before Dongfang Muxue. “I have two ways to save you. Which one you choose depends on your preference…”
Dongfang Muxue smiled. “I’m about to die. Why would I be picky? Either is fine.”
“Let me explain both methods before you decide,” Song Qingshu said, his expression somewhat strange. “The first method is to use the One Yang Finger to open up all your meridians. But this has two problems. First, your injuries are so severe that I would have to expend a great deal of internal energy. I wouldn’t be able to fight for several years. Second, though you would survive, it would be very difficult for your martial arts to return to their peak. The second method…”
Before he could finish, Dongfang Muxue interrupted him. “No need to explain. I’ll choose the second method.”
Song Qingshu was taken aback. “You don’t want to hear what the second method is?”
“I know what the second method is.” Dongfang Muxue’s expression was odd—a mix of shyness and reproach. “Don’t forget who sent you to Tibet in the first place.”
Seeing that his little ruse had been seen through, Song Qingshu felt somewhat awkward. Dongfang Muxue, however, reassured him. “This is a critical time for your enterprise. If you couldn’t fight for several years, it would be fatal. And I don’t want to be a cripple after I recover. Don’t worry—I’ve been mentally prepared for this day for a long time. Before, your internal energy wasn’t sufficient. Now your cultivation surpasses even my prime…” She didn’t finish, but her meaning was clear.
“What riddle are you two speaking in?” Zhao Min was thoroughly confused. “What exactly is the second method?”
Ah Jiu’s face reddened. She was reminded of when Song Qingshu had saved her. She quickly said, “Qingshu, focus on healing Miss Xue. I won’t disturb you.”
She walked toward the tent entrance, reaching out to pull Xia Qingqing as she passed. “Qingqing, let’s go.”
But Xia Qingqing did not respond. She stared fixedly at Dongfang Muxue on the bed.
“Qingqing, a life hangs in the balance. This is not the time for jealousy,” Ah Jiu whispered in her ear, trying to comfort her, assuming her odd behavior stemmed from jealousy. “Besides, Miss Xue saved you on the battlefield.”
Xia Qingqing bit her lip, her expression complex. In the end, she let Ah Jiu pull her away.
Though Zhou Zhiruo had not experienced it firsthand like Ah Jiu, she and Song Qingshu were husband and wife. She naturally knew the healing effects of the Joyful Meditation Method. Seeing Ah Jiu leave, she also felt it inappropriate to stay. She rose to take her leave. “Qingshu, I leave Miss Xue in your hands.”
Though her heart was somewhat sour, she knew what mattered most. She would not let her emotions interfere at such a critical juncture.
Seeing them leave one by one, Zhao Min, who had been sitting on a stool watching the show, looked bewildered. “What are you all up to? So secretive?”
Zhou Zhiruo snorted, grabbed her, and pulled her outside.
“Hey, hey, that hurts! Zhou Zhiruo, you’re doing that on purpose! Be gentle~”
Hearing the faint voices outside, Dongfang Muxue’s face held a strange smile. “It seems your wife is quite jealous.”
Song Qingshu smiled wryly. “She has some feelings, but it’s normal. She didn’t say anything. Don’t read too much into it.”
Dongfang Muxue nodded. “She does have the bearing of an empress.”
Lan Fenghuang, worried about her mistress’s injuries, did not want to stay and disturb them. She quickly said, “Cult Leader, Young Master, I’ll take my leave.” She had been the one to send Song Qingshu to Nyingma Temple in Tibet. Naturally, she also understood what the second method was.
“Fenghuang, stay.” To her surprise, Dongfang Muxue beckoned for her to remain.
“Ah?” Lan Fenghuang was stunned. *When that scene unfolds, it would be awkward for me to stay.* Even Song Qingshu looked at Dongfang Muxue questioningly.
“I’m keeping you here for two reasons. First, to guard us. Second…” Dongfang Muxue glanced at Song Qingshu. Her pale cheeks took on a faint blush. “Don’t let this b@stard’s gentle demeanor fool you. Once he’s in bed, he’s an animal. I’m badly injured. I can’t withstand his roughness. You’ll have to attend to him for me.”
Though Dongfang Muxue had not been intimate with Song Qingshu, she had pried many things out of Qu Feiyan. Moreover, she had witnessed firsthand his vigorous performances with Imperial Consort Tong and the Princess of Jingnan. Confident as she was, how could her weakened body withstand such fervor?
Lan Fenghuang had not expected this. Her eyes reddened instantly. She quickly knelt. “Cult Leader, though we Miao women may be unrestrained in behavior, in our hearts we are most devoted in love. I am already yours. How can I serve another?”
She had earlier thought, after witnessing Song Qingshu’s divine performance, that she wouldn’t mind being slept with for free. But that had been idle fancy. Faced with the reality, she panicked.
Dongfang Muxue’s expression darkened. “You are my woman. I am now his woman. Naturally, you are also his woman. If I, your mistress, find him worthy, how could you be settling for less?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Lan Fenghuang stole a glance at Song Qingshu. A peach-blossom flush spread across her creamy skin. “Young Master Song is a divine figure. I am but a lowly weed—unworthy of him.”
“Then it’s settled.” Dongfang Muxue’s expression softened slightly. “After he heals me, you will attend to him on my behalf.”
“But… but…” Lan Fenghuang, usually so bold and bewitching, now stammered like a shy maiden, unsure how to refuse.
Seeing her about to cry, Dongfang Muxue’s voice softened. “Fenghuang, I am a woman. I will eventually marry. I cannot give you a lifetime of happiness.”
“As long as I can stay by my mistress’s side forever, I would do anything!” Lan Fenghuang said urgently.
“Very well.” Dongfang Muxue pointed at Song Qingshu. “From today on, he is also your master. Whatever you did for me, do for him.”
“Since my mistress commands it, Fenghuang will obey.” Tears glistened in Lan Fenghuang’s eyes. Her voice was choked with emotion.
Song Qingshu’s face darkened. He could no longer hold back. “Hey, you two have been talking for half a day. Have you considered my feelings at all?”
Dongfang Muxue chuckled lightly. “Such a good deal for you—surely you’re not complaining?”
“I’m not an animal,” Song Qingshu said seriously.
“Then who was it who used to steal glances at Fenghuang’s che$t and backside?” Dongfang Muxue’s casual remark turned both their faces crimson.
Song Qingshu was exasperated. “That was appreciation of beauty. It wasn’t as sordid as you think.”
Dongfang Muxue started to respond but was seized by a violent fit of coughing. “If you two keep stalling, I really will be reporting to the King of Hell.”
Lan Fenghuang was terrified. Her voice trembled with tears. “It’s my fault. I’ll do as my mistress says.”
Song Qingshu had no more time to deal with Lan Fenghuang. He quickly sealed several acupoints on Dongfang Muxue’s body. “Xue’er, I’m beginning.”
Hearing his address, Dongfang Muxue’s expression turned strange. “In my day, I made the entire *wulin* tremble in fear. Who would have thought I’d end up with such a delicate little name?”
“If you don’t like it, I can change it,” Song Qingshu offered.
“Never mind. Keep it. It feels rather fresh.” A faint smile appeared on Dongfang Muxue’s stunning face.
Song Qingshu nodded. He helped her sit facing him. “Let go of your body and mind. Do not resist with your internal energy. Let my true qi take control of your body.”
“So bossy!” Dongfang Muxue shot him an annoyed glare. “I’ve been ready for ages. Are you going to do it or not?”
Song Qingshu smiled wryly. *She truly is the one who once dominated the* wulin*. Still so fierce even in this state.*
Snorting, he refused to be outdone. He reached out and gently brushed his hand down her b0dy. Her cl0thes seemed to part before an invisible pair of scissors, sliding down her skin to her waist. Like an eggshell being peeled away, her jade-like body was revealed. (G: Onee-san is finally about to fall.)