Flower Stealing Master

Ren Yingying quickly shook her head, constantly comforting herself: the reason she thought this way was simply that the scoundrel had already taken advantage of her in the bath barrel back then. Suffering another small loss now didn’t seem like a big deal.

Such is the strange logic of w0men; they would rather allow one man to take more advantage of them than accept being taken advantage of by two men simultaneously.

While Ren Yingying was lost in thought, Zhang Sanfeng was also stunned. As far as he knew, Xia Qingqing was the wife of the previous Golden Serpent King, Yuan Chengzhi. Yet now, she was addressing him as her grandmaster. Observing her demeanor with Song Qingshu, how could Zhang Sanfeng not understand their relationship?

His grand-disciple was far more skilled in this area than he ever was. Zhang Sanfeng shook his head slightly. Although he found it unethical for Song Qingshu to be involved with a widow, Xia Qingqing showed no sign of unwillingness on her face. He quickly dismissed the thought—grandchildren have their own blessings; let them be.

“Your Seventh Martial Uncle has encountered a grave disaster. While you bear some responsibility, he also played a part. If not for him… sigh.” Zhang Sanfeng’s words trailed off with a heavy sigh.

Song Qingshu’s heart sank. Could there be more to that old case from years ago?

Not wanting to dwell on painful memories, Zhang Sanfeng changed the subject, asking, “Qingshu, what was that sword move you used just now? In my hundred years, I’ve never seen such a powerful sword technique.”

“This is a move I created myself, called ‘Return of the Myriad Swords,’” Song Qingshu replied respectfully, then added, “I thought this move would make me invincible in the martial world, but Grandmaster neutralized it with such ease. Truly unfathomable! My admiration for you is as boundless as the Yangtze River, unending like the flooding Yellow River.”

“Enough, enough! Qingshu, where did you learn to be so glib?” Zhang Sanfeng was overwhelmed by the flurry of compliments. “Your grandmaster’s reception of your move was nowhere near as effortless as you make it sound. Take a look for yourself.” With that, he raised his hands, which had been clasped behind his back.

The three people present fixed their gaze and saw that his wide sleeves were now in tatters, clearly shredded by sword Qi. 

Song Qingshu’s face lit up with joy, but he quickly composed himself and said solemnly, “Qingshu is truly at fault. Tomorrow, I will make sure to compensate Grandmaster with a hundred sets of robes.”

Zhang Sanfeng couldn’t help but glare at him. “Do you think I don’t know what’s on your mind? Just now, when you saw your ultimate move was countered, you looked completely dejected. Now that you see I didn’t come out unscathed, you must be secretly pleased, aren’t you?”

Song Qingshu chuckled awkwardly. “How could I? My meager skills are naturally no match for Grandmaster. Just now, with a mere pull, lean, and push from you, I nearly fell flat on my face. Not to brag, Grandmaster, but with my current martial arts, there’s likely no one else in the martial world who could make me look so wretched with just one move—except for you.”

This flattery hit Zhang Sanfeng in a soft spot. Despite living over a hundred years with no desires or ambitions, his recent development of Taiji had become a source of pride. Seeing its effectiveness in combat brought him great joy. “Well, no need to probe subtly. I can tell you. This move is part of a new martial art I developed in recent years during seclusion: Taijiquan. The technique is called ‘Grasping the Sparrow’s Tail.’”  (G: Taijiquan = Tai Chi, is a martial art and movement practice that combines physical exercise with breathing and meditation. It’s known for its slow, gentle movements.)

Song Qingshu’s eyes lit up as he murmured, “Grasping the Sparrow’s Tail? The name is indeed apt.”

“Enough, Qingshu. The reason I came this time was to ask you something,” Zhang Sanfeng suddenly said, his expression turning serious.

“Please ask, Grandmaster. Qingshu will answer without reserve.” Seeing Zhang Sanfeng’s grave demeanor, Song Qingshu couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Could something serious have happened?

Zhang Sanfeng spoke slowly, “You should remember when your Fourth and Sixth Martial Uncles came to attend the Golden Serpent Assembly not long ago.”

Song Qingshu nodded. “After I became the Golden Serpent King, Fourth and Sixth Martial Uncles stayed to help us fend off the Qing soldiers. Afterward, they returned to Wudang…” As he spoke, Song Qingshu’s expression suddenly changed. “Could something have happened to them?”

Zhang Sanfeng sighed. “Not just them, but also your father.”

Song Qingshu froze. It took him a moment to remember that he had a father in this world—Zhang Sanfeng’s eldest disciple, Song Yuanqiao.

All along, Song Qingshu had deliberately avoided this matter. After all, he was a transmigrator, not the real Song Qingshu. The sudden appearance of a father was hard to accept.

Avoidance was one thing, but if something had truly happened, it was another matter entirely. Thanks to inheriting Song Qingshu’s body, he was given a second chance at life, so he felt it was his responsibility to step up.

He had fulfilled Song Qingshu’s desires regarding Zhou Zhiruo and his vengeance against Zhang Wuji. If something happened to his father, there was no reason to stand idly by.

“Grandmaster, what exactly happened?” Song Qingshu asked, his voice heavy, his demeanor like that of a beast ready to pounce. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Zhang Sanfeng nodded inwardly at this display of filial piety. To be honest, he still harbored some resentment over Mo Shenggu’s death. However, Song Qingshu had already faced his punishment during the Lion-slaying Assembly. Moreover, his subsequent efforts to protect the Han people and fight the Manchurian invaders had gradually earned Zhang Sanfeng’s forgiveness.

However, hearing tales of his bravery and seeing them in person were different matters. 

Zhang Sanfeng had come out of seclusion partly to assess Song Qingshu personally. While he was initially displeased with Song Qingshu’s flamboyant display and unclear relationships with women, seeing his current reaction finally set Zhang Sanfeng’s heart at ease.

“Here’s what happened. After Zhao Min’s raid on the six major sects years ago, I established a rule to prevent Wudang from being caught off guard in similar situations. Disciples who leave the mountain must send a message via carrier pigeon to Purple Heaven Palace at each stop to report their safety. This way, if anything happens, the sect can respond immediately.”

“Initially, there was no issue with Songxi and Liting’s whereabouts. However, shortly after leaving the Golden Serpent Camp, their messages ceased. We immediately realized something was wrong. Since their disappearance occurred within the Golden Serpent Camp’s territory, I sent Yuanqiao to investigate, thinking that with you two working together, you’d surely uncover their whereabouts. But not long after Yuanqiao left, he also disappeared.”

Zhang Sanfeng sighed deeply. “I know my disciples. While they’re not invincible, they’re more than capable of protecting themselves. For all three to vanish, they must have encountered an incredibly formidable foe. If I were to send your Second Martial Uncle, I fear even he wouldn’t return. That’s why I’ve come personally—to find out just who dares to trouble Wudang!” 

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