Flower Stealing Master

“Dare?” Song Qingshu raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a half-smile. “Rong’er, are you sure you want to choose dare?”

“Yes.” Huang Rong took a deep breath, but she remained calm inside. She thought to herself, ‘I’m not a fool. If your request goes too far, I’ll just stop playing.’

“Rong’er, just to make sure you understand the rules, let me confirm again. No matter what request the other person makes, you must follow through. Are you still choosing dare?”

Song Qingshu’s tone was playful, making Huang Rong feel a little uneasy. She almost regretted her choice, but her stubborn nature wouldn’t allow her to back down. ‘I have an escape route anyway, so why should I concede to him?’

“I’ve made up my mind. Speak—what do you want me to do?” Huang Rong lifted her chin, the smooth, delicate skin of her neck glowing under the light.

Song Qingshu gave a strange smile, sitting grandly on the chair and beckoning her over. “Come here.”

Seeing his legs spread apart and the odd expression on his face, Huang Rong couldn’t help but have some strange associations. Her face turned slightly cold. “What for?”

“This chair is too hard. I don’t want Rong’er to feel uncomfortable, so I’m inviting you to sit on my lap. I guarantee it’ll be much softer and more comfortable than this hard chair,” Song Qingshu said with a grin.

Huang Rong was momentarily stunned. “That’s your dare request?”

“N-No, it’s not difficult.” Huang Rong’s face flushed. She had imagined countless possibilities, convinced that he would make some excessive demand. She hadn’t expected him to ask for something like this.

Sitting on his lap was indeed a bit inappropriate by etiquette standards, but compared to what she had expected, it was a relief. She dared not let Song Qingshu change his request—who knew what he might come up with next?

Afraid he would suddenly propose something else, Huang Rong lifted her skirt slightly and walked over. But after just two steps, she awkwardly realized that she seemed too eager, as if she couldn’t wait to sit in his arms.

Seeing her stop in hesitation, her expression shifting back and forth, Song Qingshu chuckled and reached out. A gentle force pulled her forward, making her lose her balance. By the time she came to her senses, she was already sitting on his lap.

Years of strict etiquette made her instinctively want to stand up, but Song Qingshu’s hands, though gentle, were firmly wrapped around her waist, making it impossible for her to move.

Huang Rong sighed. ‘I chose this dare myself.’ The only thing that comforted her was that, aside from holding her waist, Song Qingshu wasn’t doing anything inappropriate.

“Rong’er, you’re so soft.” Even through two layers of clothing, Song Qingshu could sharply sense the astonishing softness and elasticity against his leg.

Huang Rong’s face burned. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear to hide her discomfort. “I’ve done what you asked. Now it’s my turn to ask you a question, right?”

“Go ahead.” Song Qingshu looked utterly content—after all, with a beauty in his arms, how could he not be?

“What exactly is your plan for the Golden Serpent Camp?” Huang Rong was truly curious. Ever since their great victory over the Qing army and the subsequent truce with the Manchus, the Golden Serpent Camp had secured its foothold and become a force that couldn’t be ignored. However, to most people, that was all it was.

Given its limited strength, the best the Golden Serpent Camp could hope for was to become a regional warlord. In the end, it would have only two possible fates: being crushed by a stronger power or submitting to one and eventually being absorbed. Huang Rong asked this question to see if she could guide the Golden Serpent Camp to align with the Southern Song.

If she could succeed in recruiting such a powerful force, her and her husband’s status in court would soar. She could then maneuver to secure a formal government position for her husband, allowing them to influence imperial decisions. Only by shaping court policy could she see even a glimmer of hope for the future. Continuing to assist in defending cities as mere martial artists would ultimately lead to ruin.

Of course, Huang Rong didn’t simply want to use Song Qingshu. She also intended to push him into the imperial court. Compared to her loyal but dull-witted Brother Jing, Song Qingshu was far more suited to her plans. If they supported each other, they might just carve out a chance for survival.

Unexpectedly, Song Qingshu gave a serious answer after some thought. He slowly uttered eight words:

“Expel the barbarians, restore Ch!na!”

Huang Rong’s delicate body trembled upon hearing this. She was intelligent enough to grasp the weight behind those words. She had always known that Song Qingshu was not a man content with mediocrity, but she never imagined his ambition would be this grand.

‘A spirit so fierce it could swallow mountains and rivers!’

These words surfaced in her mind. She couldn’t help but smile bitterly. She had always thought he was merely striving for dominance in the martial world, never realizing that his ambitions stretched toward the entire realm.

‘If only Brother Jing were like him…’

Huang Rong’s expression dimmed. Over the years, she had helped defend Xiangyang for the Southern Song, but in the end, they were merely serving as tools for others. That would have been fine if it were just that—after all, she and her husband weren’t power-hungry. But the corruption in the court had left her utterly disheartened.

Local officials constantly undermined each other for credit, causing missed opportunities on the battlefield. But worse than that, even the high-ranking ministers in the capital played dirty. Military pay was delayed, provisions were intentionally held back—all sorts of disgraceful tricks led to battlefield defeats, just so they could use it as leverage to remove political enemies!

Huang Rong had often wanted to walk away, but her husband was determined to stay in Xiangyang. She had no choice but to support him. Countless nights, a single thought crossed her mind: ‘If only I controlled the court…’

If she held power, she wouldn’t dream of reclaiming all lost territories, but at the very least, she could ensure that northern nomadic regimes would never step beyond the border again.

But that thought was fleeting. She knew how ridiculous it was. Not only was she a woman, but even if she were a man of unparalleled talent, how could she possibly control the imperial court?

The court was a delicate balance of power between factions. Even the emperor couldn’t do as he pleased—what could she possibly hope to achieve?

Yet, Song Qingshu’s ambition showed her another possibility. If they couldn’t control the existing system, then why not shatter it and create a new one?

No bureaucratic corruption. No scheming officials dragging everything down. She could finally put her knowledge to full use.

But she quickly dismissed this tempting thought. As the daughter of the Eastern Heretic, she had never been one to strictly follow conventions. The idea of rebellion didn’t scare her. The only problem was… her husband was Guo Jing, not Song Qingshu.

If Brother Jing raised a banner of revolt, she would support him with everything she had.

But Song Qingshu… what reason did she have to follow a man who wasn’t her husband?

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