Chapter 125: Bestowing the Sword (II)

Ouyang Ke’s eyes lit up, his heart stirred. Ignoring Tolui, he smiled with a flirtatious air, "What kind of person do I, Young Master Ouyang, take myself to be? Once a word is spoken, how could I possibly go back on it? However, while he may leave, you, Lady Huazheng, must stay..."

"Fine."

Cheng Lingsu had long expected he would not give up so easily, but this was for the best. Alone, she could maneuver against Ouyang Ke and look for a chance to escape; with Tolui present, she would inevitably have reservations. Thus, before he could utter any more nonsense, she cut him off and agreed.

Ouyang Ke did not expect her to concede so readily. He laughed heartily, "That is more like it. With that eyesore out of the way, we can have a proper chat."

Ignoring him, Cheng Lingsu turned her back. She took out a handkerchief containing blue flowers from her bosom, gave it a slight shake in the air, and used it to bind the split webbing of Tolui’s hand. She tucked the blue flowers back away, then briefly explained the situation to Tolui, urging him to return first.

Tolui’s face was ashen. He stepped back, suddenly pulling the saber he had thrust into the ground at his feet. With his eyes fixed on Ouyang Ke, he swung the blade through the air in front of him with a fierce slash. "Your martial arts are superior; I am no match for you. But today, in the name of the son of Khan Temujin, I swear to the gods of the grasslands: once I have wiped out the villains who plotted against my father, I shall return to settle this score! I will avenge my sister and show you what true heroes of the steppe are made of!"

Like Dushi, he was the son of a Mongol tribal leader, but Tolui was modest and deeply loyal. He lacked Dushi’s blind arrogance, yet his inner pride was no less profound. He was Temujin’s favorite son, deeply aware of his father’s grand ambitions: to turn every land touched by the blue sky into a pasture for the Mongol people.

For this goal, he had trained in the army since childhood, never missing a day. Little did he expect that after years of bitter training, not only would he fall into enemy hands, but he would also be unable to bring his sister, who had come to save him, back to safety. Tolui knew Cheng Lingsu was right; he had to prioritize Temujin’s safety and return to mobilize troops to support his ambushed father. But the thought of his sister being forcibly detained here filled him with such shame that he could barely breathe.

Mongols valued their word above all else, especially when sworn before the gods they worshipped. Even knowing he was no match in combat, Tolui’s oath was iron-clad. His expression was devout and stern, his words brimming with heroic spirit. Though not a master of the martial arts, his bearing—forged by long years in the military—carried the same regal aura as Temujin’s. It was a commanding, disdainful presence that made even Ouyang Ke, who did not fully grasp the content of his words, feel a secret tremor of unease.

Cheng Lingsu felt a warmth in her heart. The blood of Temujin’s daughter, which flowed within her, seemed to resonate with Tolui’s frustration and resolve. It surged like a torrent, causing her eyes to grow hot. Calmly, she stepped aside, blocking the path Ouyang Ke might take to strike, and whispered, "Go quickly. Return at once. I have my own way to escape."

Tolui nodded, took two steps forward, and embraced her briefly. Without looking at Ouyang Ke again, he turned and ran toward the camp gate.

On the way, a few guards left behind tried to intercept him, but he cut them down one by one, felling them to the ground.

***

Only when she saw with her own eyes that Tolui had seized a horse at the edge of the camp and ridden off into the distance did Cheng Lingsu finally relax, letting out a soft sigh.

In her previous life, her master, the Poison King, used poisons as medicine to heal the sick, yet he firmly believed in karma and reincarnation. In his later years, he had converted to Buddhism, cultivating his mind until he reached a state of being beyond anger or joy. Cheng Lingsu, his youngest disciple, had been deeply influenced by him. Having died and been reborn in this world through the cycle of reincarnation, she could not help but believe that there must be some higher purpose to it all.

Originally, she had not wanted to become too entangled in the affairs of this world. She had even thought of finding an opportunity to flee far away, to return to the shores of Lake Dongting, to see what the White Horse Temple would look like centuries later. She wanted to open a small clinic, treat the sick, and spend her life guarding the longing and deep affection she held for that person from her past life.

Moreover, if Temujin were in danger, the Mongol tribe that had raised her for ten years would also suffer. Her mother, her brothers, and the clansmen she saw every day—how could she stand idly by after ten years of living among them?

Thinking of this, Cheng Lingsu sighed again, faintly.

Seeing Cheng Lingsu staring in the direction Tolui had left, sighing continuously, Ouyang Ke lifted his chin and sneered, "What? So reluctant to see him go?"

Detecting the implication in his words, Cheng Lingsu frowned, pulling back her thoughts, and retorted, "I am worried about my brother. Is that not as it should be?"

"Oh? He is your brother?" Ouyang Ke raised an eyebrow, a flash of joy passing through his eyes. "Then... was the lad before him your lover?"

"What are you talking abou—" Cheng Lingsu suddenly paused, realizing, "You mean Guo Jing? You were already... you knew as soon as we arrived?"

"Not 'you all,' just you! The moment you arrived, I knew." Ouyang Ke looked quite pleased, clearly enjoying her reaction.

Although Cheng Lingsu had dismounted from a distance, Ouyang Ke’s internal energy was profound, and his hearing was far superior to that of ordinary Mongol soldiers. He had discovered her almost the moment she snuck into the camp. He had been about to reveal himself when he saw Ma Yu appear 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. Thus, the West Poison lineage always harbored resentment and caution toward the Taoists of the Quanzhen Sect. Ouyang Ke had recognized Ma Yu’s Taoist robes and, recalling his uncle’s warnings, had abandoned the idea of showing himself. Instead, he had hidden in the shadows, watching their exchange.

He had expected Cheng Lingsu to persuade Ma Yu to storm the camp. He did not know Ma Yu was the sect leader of Quanzhen; he only thought that besides the thousands of soldiers, Wanyan Honglie had brought several martial arts experts who would be enough to entangle Ma Yu, perhaps even killing him and removing a major threat to the sect. He had not expected the Taoist not only to refrain from attacking the camp but to leave with Guo Jing, leaving Cheng Lingsu behind alone.

Cheng Lingsu was now piecing it together: "Wanyan Honglie came here in secret, likely to stir up conflict between Sunkun and my father, keeping the Mongol tribes in constant infighting so that his Great Jin Kingdom would have no threats from the north."

Ouyang Ke had no interest in such political maneuvering, but seeing how serious Cheng Lingsu looked, he nodded along, adding a compliment, "You are truly clever, drawing inferences from one instance."

Brushing aside a strand of hair blown by the wind, Cheng Lingsu’s gaze was as clear and cold as the Onon River on the steppe. "You are one of Wanyan Honglie’s men, yet you let Guo Jing go to report the warning, and now you have let Tolui go to mobilize troops. Are you not afraid of ruining his grand plan?"

Ouyang Ke laughed, reaching out to tap her chin with his folding fan. "Afraid? What do his schemes have to do with me? If I can win a beauty’s smile, what does it matter?"

Cheng Lingsu did not smile; instead, her brow furrowed. She took a half-step back, avoiding the flirtatious fan, and reached out, nimbly grabbing the black-lacquered tip of the fan. She felt an icy chill pierce through her skin, so cold it seemed to reach her bones, making her almost want to let go. Only then did she realize the ribs of his fan were forged from dark iron, as cold as ice.

"What? Do you like this fan?" Ouyang Ke flicked his wrist as if unintentionally, breaking her grip and retracting the fan. He snapped it open with a flourish and began to fan himself. "If you fancy something else, I would gladly give it to you, but this fan..." He paused, then laughed softly, "If you like it, as long as you follow me everywhere from now on, you will naturally be able to see it at all times..."