Flower Stealing Master

“Ah!” 

Meanwhile, Song Qingshu cried out in agony, staggering forward as he flailed toward Mu Wanqing.

“Ah!” Mu Wanqing exclaimed in surprise. Seeing him charge toward the tip of her sword, she instinctively shifted her blade to the side. This slight hesitation caused her to miss the perfect chance to dodge. Before she could react, Song Qingshu had already collided with her, sending them both tumbling.

Mu Wanqing’s vision darkened as she lost her balance and fell backward. Just as she tried to get up, a sudden weight pressed down on her chest—Song Qingshu had landed on top of her.

The girl’s soft and fragrant body left Song Qingshu reluctant to move. He closed his eyes, pretending to be gravely injured and murmured dramatically, “Ah, I can’t… I can’t take it anymore… I’m going to die… I can’t breathe…”

Mu Wanqing, furious and humiliated, could feel the heat of his breath on her chest. “Get off me! I’m the one who can’t breathe!” she yelled, shoving him repeatedly, but Song Qingshu wouldn’t budge.

Song Qingshu hurriedly explained, “Miss, I swear I don’t mean to take advantage of you! That scoundrel struck me with his palm just now—I’m completely shattered and can’t even move!”

Mu Wanqing had witnessed Qinghai Yixiao’s palm strike. With his level of martial arts, an ordinary person wouldn’t have survived. Song Qingshu’s mere survival was already a stroke of fortune.

Although she understood this, accepting it was another matter. Regret filled her heart—had she known things would turn out like this, she would have pierced him with her sword earlier, sparing herself the indignity.

Raised by a strict and extreme master, Mu Wanqing had always treated men’s lives as worthless. Priding herself on her purity, she couldn’t tolerate being touched by men—normally, even receiving a glance from one would have prompted her to draw her sword.

Seeing Mu Wanqing raise her arm, preparing to fire a poisoned sleeve dart, Song Qingshu broke into a cold sweat. ‘She’s so fierce…’

Sensing the danger, Song Qingshu decided not to push his luck any further. He adjusted his expression to appear proper and said with feigned sincerity, “I wouldn’t dare disrespect you, miss. Even if it costs me my life, I’ll get off you.”

As Song Qingshu gritted his teeth and began shifting his weight to move off her, Mu Wanqing felt a twinge of guilt. Given how seriously injured he seemed, moving could put his life at risk. Of course, allowing him to remain on top of her was out of the question.

Using a hint of inner strength, Song Qingshu broke into a sweat, the drops sliding down onto Mu Wanqing’s face and neck.

At first, Mu Wanqing was furious, but realizing that he was in so much pain he could barely stay conscious, she couldn’t help but ask with some concern, “Are you… okay?”

“It doesn’t matter if I live or die, as long as your honor remains intact,” Song Qingshu responded. His words stirred a mix of gratitude and guilt in Mu Wanqing, leaving her at a loss for what to say.

Even when Song Qingshu tried to rise several times but collapsed back onto her due to exhaustion, she no longer scolded him. Her face only reddened further each time.

‘She acts tough, but deep down, she’s kind-hearted,’ Song Qingshu mused. Now feeling guilty himself, he decided to stop taking advantage of the situation. As he pushed himself up, he said, “Miss, help me a bit—just give me a push.”

The accidental contact was making Mu Wanqing increasingly uncomfortable. Without hesitation, she pushed him to the side. 

This time, Song Qingshu rolled off with an “Ouch!”

Mu Wanqing immediately stood up, grabbing her sword, ready to stab him twice in frustration. However, seeing how gravely injured he looked, she held back. Turning her cold gaze toward Qinghai Yixiao, she shouted angrily, “I’ll k!ll you!”

Qinghai Yixiao, engaged in a fierce battle with Li Mochou, was already struggling. Li Mochou’s exquisite techniques and her extraordinary Qinggong made him wary. Fearing her famous Frozen Soul Silver Needles, he grew increasingly desperate, and his moves became chaotic.

Li Mochou, an experienced fighter, immediately exploited his vulnerability. Qinghai Yixiao barely managed to block her strike, but she swept her horsetail whisk across his chest, sending him sprawling as blood sprayed from his mouth. In his current state, he was incapable of continuing the fight.

Mu Wanqing rushed halfway toward him but halted when she saw he had lost all ability to resist. Reluctant to attack someone defenseless, she let out a cold huff, sheathed her sword, and stood aside with a frosty expression.

Li Mochou cast a glance at Mu Wanqing, her heart secretly admiring the girl.

‘No wonder she’s involved with Song Qingshu—what a fierce beauty.’

Qinghai Yixiao, humiliated, shouted, “Surnamed Li, you won because you had help! Without interference, you couldn’t have beaten me!”

Li Mochou sneered. “I thought you were some mighty figure, but you’re just a coward who can’t accept defeat. Be honest—could you have beaten me in a fair fight?”

Earlier, Li Mochou had been cautious, wary of Qinghai Yixiao’s infamous reputation. But now that she had gauged his abilities, she found him unimpressive. Had she fought seriously from the start, she could have killed him within twenty moves.

Qinghai Yixiao’s face flushed at her scorn, but fearing Li Mochou’s ruthlessness, he swallowed his pride. “Fine, your martial arts are a bit better than mine. But the Qinghai Sect has many masters. I’m just one of the weaker ones. If you k!ll me, the Qinghai Sect won’t let you go.”

“The Qinghai Sect?” Li Mochou frowned slightly. The name sounded unfamiliar. But her pride wouldn’t allow her to back down. “Judging from your skills, the Qinghai Sect isn’t much. K!lling you means nothing to me. What can your sect do about it?”

With a flick of her sleeve, Li Mochou sent an Frozen Soul Silver Needle flying toward Qinghai Yixiao. His pupils shrank in terror, but severely injured, he could only watch helplessly as the needle shot toward him.

Everyone present believed the villain’s life was about to end. But just as the needle was about to strike, a sharp gust of wind intercepted it with a swishing sound. The thin needle snapped in half mid-air.

“Ah!” Mu Wanqing cried out, clutching her arm.

Song Qingshu’s sharp eyes quickly spotted the broken needle embedded in Mu Wanqing’s arm. His expression changed drastically, and he rushed to her side.

“Are you okay?” Without thinking, Song Qingshu tore her sleeve to inspect the wound. However, his concern was answered with a crisp slap to the face. 

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