By now, Song Qingshu understood why Ah Ke had risked so much to secretly warn him. She was afraid that, under Zhao Gou’s orders, she’d have to make things difficult for him later…and she didn’t want him to misunderstand and think it was her own doing.
“This girl really has had a hard lot in life…” Song Qingshu sighed inwardly. Ah Ke was undoubtedly a stunning beauty, but unlike Huang Rong, she wasn’t a clever woman. And she was surrounded by people who’d chew her up and spit her out without a second thought…Wu Sangui, Kangxi, Zhao Gou, and yes, even himself…
“If Ah Ke ever finds out what Chen Yuanyuan did with me…” He shuddered and decided it was best to keep mother and daughter apart for now.
The banquet soon began, starting with a tedious slew of flattering speeches that made Song Qingshu want to yawn. Eventually, the conversation turned to his rescue of the princesses from Jin.
Song Qingshu smiled inwardly. *Since the Song Dynasty prides itself on being a state of propriety, they’ll have to show some appreciation, right?*
But before the topic of reward could arise, Zhao Gou subtly signaled to Ah Ke beside him. Reluctantly, she cleared her throat and spoke clearly: “Rescuing our dynasty’s princesses from Jin would be an impossible feat for anyone…but for Young Master Song, that’s not even his most praiseworthy achievement.”
Her voice was crisp yet seductive, soft enough to melt the heart. The men in attendance were captivated, their hearts racing. The hall fell silent as everyone strained to hear more.
“Here it comes!” Song Qingshu tensed, no longer able to appreciate the pleasant sound. Though Ah Ke’s words seemed to praise him, he knew that the higher one is lifted, the harder the fall…and besides, she’d already tipped him off.
“Oh? Why do you say that, Consort Wu?” Zhao Gou asked, playing dumb.
Ah Ke smiled demurely and continued: “Even in the deep palace, I’ve heard many tales of Young Master Song’s deeds. Everyone praises his wisdom and courage, his peerless martial arts. But the story that impressed me most is how he once summoned wind and rain and defeated a hundred thousand Qing troops single-handedly…”
Song Qingshu raised an eyebrow, already guessing how Zhao Gou planned to corner him.
“…I’m truly curious, Young Master Song…could you show me this power of summoning wind and rain?” Ah Ke turned to him, her beautiful eyes fixed on his face.
Song Qingshu smiled faintly: “Your Highness, those are just exaggerated tales spread by the martial world.”
Wan Qi, seizing the opportunity, let out a cold laugh: “Your Highness, you don’t know the dangers of the world. There are many charlatans who deceive the public. Summoning wind and rain belongs only to myth and legend…how could a mere mortal do such a thing?”
Before Song Qingshu could react, Ah Ke jumped in…though she’d spoken at Zhao Gou’s bidding, hearing Wan Qi slander Song Qingshu made her uncomfortable.
“The Battle of Fox Slope, where Young Master Song led the Golden Serpent Camp to crush the Qing northern cavalry…that at least is undeniably true, isn’t it? Given the ferocity of the northern cavalry, they wouldn’t have been completely annihilated without being struck by a sudden storm.” At the time, Ah Ke had been under house arrest in Yanjing. When news of the imperial army’s defeat reached the capital, it shook the entire court. The panic that gripped the city, the fear that Song Qingshu might march on the capital at any moment…you couldn’t understand it without experiencing it firsthand.
It was from that moment that Ah Ke’s feelings toward Song Qingshu had begun to change. Before, she’d felt pure hatred…but afterward, admiration and longing crept in.
As a young girl, she’d dreamed of a man who could govern a nation with wisdom and conquer on the battlefield with valor…a true hero. Fu Kang’an had come close, but when she learned what he’d done to Princess Jianning, all her good impressions shattered. She’d thought she’d never find such a perfect man again. But with each new tale of Song Qingshu’s deeds, she realized his shadow was gradually merging with the hero she’d imagined.
Zhao Gou had given her a stack of materials to memorize to make her performance more convincing, but she’d already known every story by heart.
Not knowing the truth, Zhao Gou assumed she’d memorized everything quickly and thought she was a female Zhuge Liang reincarnate.
“The storm at Fox Slope was just a coincidence…that Song just got lucky,” Wan Qi sneered. “Afterward, the Golden Serpent Camp deliberately spread this lie to make themselves seem more mysterious and intimidate other forces.” As Southern Song Minister, he’d studied the battle’s records extensively and scoffed at the idea of weather manipulation. Most of the ministers in both Eastern and Western administrations also dismissed it.
“But…but…” Ah Ke was still a young girl, not quick with words, and no match for an old fox like Wan Qi. She was left speechless.
At Wan Qi’s words, the hall buzzed with whispers. With his heightened senses, Song Qingshu caught every word…though some didn’t even bother to lower their voices, as if deliberately speaking for him to hear:
“How can young people be like this? Claiming all the credit for a victory…what about the soldiers who bled on the battlefield?”
“Exactly! Aren’t they afraid of turning their own men against them?”
“Young people love the spotlight…we’ve all been through it.”
“I was never so shameless. Claiming heaven’s work as his own…he’d better hope lightning doesn’t strike him one day.”
“Young people make mistakes…it’s inevitable. As long as they find the right path, there’s still hope.”
…
The loudest voices came from Right Minister Zhang Jun’s circle. Among the four great generals of the Southern Song’s restoration, Liu Guangshi had been stripped of his command, Yue Fei was unjustly killed, Han Shizhong wisely kept his head down…leaving only Zhang Jun, who had risen by shamelessly currying favor with Qin Hui and Wan Qi while framing Yue Fei. Now seated as Right Minister, he’d packed the military’s key positions with his cronies. Though Jia Sidao was theoretically the highest military authority, Zhang Jun’s seniority and numerous military connections made it unclear who really held sway.
Zhang Jun, always in cahoots with Wan Qi, naturally seized the chance to kick Song Qingshu while he was down. Though their intentions were venomous, their words dripped with false solemnity and pity.
“Quiet, quiet,” Zhao Gou suddenly interjected. “Young Master Song is a guest from afar…mind your manners.” On the surface, he was scolding them, but everyone present was savvy enough to know his true meaning.
Wan Qi laughed slyly: “Forgive me, Your Majesty. Your servant is simply an upright man…I can’t tolerate deception. I can’t stand seeing people play tricks and fool the world.”
“Upright? Fool the world?”
Song Qingshu had been watching their performance with detached amusement. But seeing Wan Qi so shamelessly call himself upright, he thought of Yue Fei’s wrongful death. A surge of hot blood rose in his chest, and he said coldly: “What if I really could summon wind and rain?”