Chapter 122: The Princess's Mansion

Ouyang Ke’s eyes brightened, his spirit stirred. Ignoring Tuolei, he smiled and said, “I, Young Master Ouyang, am a man of my word. Once spoken, there is no turning back. However, he may leave; Miss Huazheng, you must stay behind…”

“Very well.”

Cheng Lingsu had long anticipated that he would not easily relent. But this was fine—she alone could still contend with Ouyang Ke, searching for a chance to escape. With Tuolei present, she would inevitably be more cautious. Without waiting for him to continue babbling, she directly agreed.

Ouyang Ke did not expect her to consent so quickly. Laughing heartily, he said, “That’s the spirit. Without a troublesome distraction, we can have a proper conversation.”

Cheng Lingsu ignored him, turned her back, and took from her bosom a handkerchief embroidered with blue flowers. She shook it lightly in the air, then tied it around the shattered tiger’s mouth on Tuolei’s hand. She returned the two blue flowers to her bosom and briefly explained the situation to Tuolei, telling him to return first.

Tuolei’s face turned ashen. He stepped back two paces, suddenly drawing the single-edged blade planted at his feet. Fixing his eyes on Ouyang Ke’s direction, he swung the blade fiercely in the air before him. “Your martial skill is superior; I am no match for you. But today, in the name of Temujin Khan’s son, I swear to the Sky God of the steppes that once I have exterminated those who conspired against my father, I will settle our score with you! I will avenge my sister and show you what true heroes of the grasslands are!”

As the son of a Mongol tribal leader, Tuolei was courteous and loyal, unlike Dushi, who was arrogant and disdainful. Yet, his pride was no less. He was Temujin’s favorite son, deeply understanding his father’s grand vision—to transform all the lands beneath the clear sky into Mongolian pastures.

For this goal, he had trained in the military from childhood without pause. Little did he expect that after years of hard training, he would fall into enemy hands, and today be unable to safely bring back his sister who came to rescue him! Tuolei knew Cheng Lingsu was right—his priority now should be Temujin’s safety. He must quickly return to mobilize troops to support his father, who had been ambushed. Yet, the thought that his sister was being forcibly detained here filled him with such shame that it almost choked his breath.

Mongols valued promises above all, especially oaths sworn to the revered Sky God. Though he knew his skills were inferior, Tuolei resolutely swore the oath, his expression solemn and devout. His words were filled with passionate resolve. Though not a martial master, his years in the military had forged in his shoulders the same kingly aura as Temujin’s—domineering and awe-inspiring. Even Ouyang Ke, who did not understand the full meaning, was secretly taken aback.

Cheng Lingsu felt a warmth within her. That blood, unique to Temujin’s daughter, seemed to sense Tuolei’s unwavering determination and resentment. A tide of emotion surged within her, making her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She subtly turned, blocking the direction from which Ouyang Ke might strike, and whispered, “Go quickly, return swiftly. I have my own way to escape.”

Tuolei nodded, stepped forward, embraced her briefly, and without looking back at Ouyang Ke, turned and ran towards the camp gate.

On the way, several guards tried to block his escape. Each was struck down with a single stroke of his blade.

Only after Tuolei seized a horse at the camp’s edge and rode off into the distance did Cheng Lingsu finally relax, sighing softly.

In her previous life, her master, the Poison Hand Medicine King, used poisons to make medicine and save lives, yet firmly believed in the cycle of karma and reincarnation. In his later years, he embraced Buddhism, cultivating his mind to reach a state beyond joy and anger. Cheng Lingsu, his young disciple, was deeply influenced by him. Though she had already died in that cycle of life and death, being sent here once again made her believe there must be some other purpose at work.

Originally, she wished to avoid entanglement with the people and affairs of this world, even hoping to find an opportunity to escape far away—to return to the shores of Dongting Lake and see what the White Horse Temple would look like hundreds of years later. Perhaps she would open a small clinic, healing the sick and protecting the love and longing she held for someone in her past life.

Moreover, if Temujin were in peril, the Mongol tribe she had lived with for ten years would suffer as well. Her mother and brother, who cared for her sincerely and raised her, along with the tribespeople she saw every day, would all face disaster. After ten years of living among them, how could she stand idly by?

At this thought, Cheng Lingsu sighed again.

Seeing Cheng Lingsu lost in thought, still staring in the direction Tuolei had fled and sighing repeatedly, Ouyang Ke raised his chin slightly and sneered, “What’s this? So reluctant to part?”

Sensing the underlying meaning in his words, Cheng Lingsu frowned, regained her composure, and blurted, “I’m worried about my brother. Is that not reasonable?”

“Oh? He’s your brother?” Ouyang Ke raised an eyebrow, a fleeting gleam of amusement crossing his eyes. “Then… that fellow before was your lover?”

“You’re talking nonsense…” Cheng Lingsu suddenly paused, realizing, “You mean Guo Jing? You knew right from the start when we arrived?”

“It’s not them, it’s you! The moment you came, I knew,” Ouyang Ke said proudly, clearly pleased by her reaction.

Though Cheng Lingsu dismounted from her horse far away, his profound inner strength gave him exceptional hearing, far beyond that of ordinary Mongol soldiers. He had discovered her almost as soon as she infiltrated the camp and was about to reveal himself—only to see Ma Yu step in and take both her and Guo Jing away.

Years ago, his uncle Ouyang Feng had suffered a great loss at the hands of the Quanzhen Sect. So the Western Poison School always harbored resentment and caution toward Quanzhen Taoists. Recognizing Ma Yu’s Taoist robes and recalling his uncle’s warnings, Ouyang Ke decided against revealing himself. Instead, he hid in the shadows, watching their exchanges back and forth.

He had expected Cheng Lingsu to persuade Ma Yu to storm the camp and rescue people. Unaware Ma Yu was the sect’s leader, Ouyang Ke merely thought that with the camp guarded by thousands of troops and several martial experts under Wanyan Honglie, they could keep Ma Yu occupied and perhaps eliminate him, reducing the Quanzhen Sect’s strength. Unexpectedly, the Taoist neither stormed the camp nor stayed but left together with Guo Jing, leaving Cheng Lingsu behind.

Gradually piecing things together, Cheng Lingsu realized, “Wanyan Honglie secretly came here to stir up trouble between Sangkun and my father, hoping to make the Mongol tribes fight endlessly so that the Jin Empire would face no northern threats.”

Ouyang Ke had no interest in such conflicts but nodded in agreement at her serious words, adding, “Your reasoning is truly clever.”

Brushing aside the wind-tossed strands of her hair, Cheng Lingsu’s gaze was as clear and sharp as the Onan River of the grasslands. “You serve Wanyan Honglie, yet you let Guo Jing go to warn them, and now you let Tuolei return to mobilize troops. Aren’t you afraid this will ruin his grand plan?”

Ouyang Ke laughed heartily and reached out, lightly tapping her jaw. “Afraid? What does his scheme have to do with me? If I can win a lady’s smile, what does it matter?”

Cheng Lingsu did not smile. Instead, her brows knit slightly as she stepped back half a pace, avoiding the slender fan lightly hooked under her chin. She reached out and snapped it from his hand. A sudden chill pierced through her palm to her bones, nearly forcing her to drop it. She realized the fan’s ribs were forged from black iron, cold as ice.

“What’s this? Do you like this fan?” Ouyang Ke feigned casualness, flicking his wrist to pry the fan from her grasp and reclaim it. With a swift motion, he opened it again and lightly waved it before him. “If you like another, I don’t mind giving it to you. But this fan…” He paused, then smiled softly. “If you truly like it, just stay by my side without leaving, and you’ll see it whenever you want…”

Author’s Note: I say, Ouyang Ke, isn’t Miss Lingsu just fond of your fan? And yet you won’t part with it—how stingy!

Ouyang Ke: That was a gift from my father… cough, cough… uncle.