Chapter 148: The Battle

Ouyang Ke’s eyes brightened, his spirit stirred. No longer paying attention to Tuolei, he chuckled softly, “What kind of man is young master Ouyang? Once a word is given, how could there be any turning back? However, he may leave, but Miss Huazheng, you are to stay behind…”

“All right.”

Cheng Lingsu had long anticipated that he wouldn’t give up so easily. Yet this was fine; only she could contend with Ouyang Ke and seek a chance to escape. With Tuolei present, she would be more cautious, so before he could say anything more reckless, she cut him off with a direct agreement.

Ouyang Ke didn’t expect her to agree so quickly and laughed heartily. “That’s more like it. Without someone troublesome and conspicuous, we can talk properly.”

Cheng Lingsu ignored him, turned her back, and took out a handkerchief embroidered with blue flowers from her bosom. She gave it a slight shake in the air, then tied it around the shattered tiger’s mouth on Tuolei’s hand, before putting the two blue flowers back inside. She briefly explained the situation to Tuolei and told him to return first.

Tuolei’s face turned ashen. He took two steps back, suddenly drawing the single-edged sword planted at his feet. Fixing his eyes on Ouyang Ke’s direction, he struck fiercely into the empty air before him. “Your martial skill is superior; I am no match for you. But today, in the name of Temujin’s son, I swear by the Sky God of the steppes: once I have exterminated those who plotted against my father, I will have a final showdown 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 favored son and deeply understood his father’s grand ambition—to transform all the lands under the blue sky into pastures for the Mongols!

To achieve this, he had trained relentlessly in the military from a young age, never missing a day. Yet after years of hard training, he had fallen into enemy hands and now could not even safely bring his sister back. Tuolei knew Cheng Lingsu was right; his priority should be his father’s safety. He needed to quickly return to mobilize troops to rescue his father. But the thought of his sister being forcibly detained here filled him with such humiliation that it nearly stopped his breath.

Mongols valued their promises above all, especially oaths sworn to the revered Sky God of the steppes. Despite knowing he was no match in martial arts, Tuolei swore this oath with unwavering resolve, his expression solemn and reverent. His words stirred great passion. Though not a master of martial arts, his broad shoulders bore the same kingly aura as Temujin’s—a commanding presence that even Ouyang Ke, who did not understand the specifics, secretly found intimidating.

Cheng Lingsu felt a warmth in her heart. The blood of Temujin’s daughter within her seemed to resonate with Tuolei’s determination and unwillingness to yield, surging through her like a torrent and moistening her eyes. She silently turned aside, 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, and embraced her briefly. Without looking back at Ouyang Ke, he turned and ran toward the camp gate.

On the way, several guards tried to stop him as he dashed out. Each was struck down by a single blow from his sword.

Only after he had seized a horse by the camp’s edge and galloped far away did Cheng Lingsu finally exhale quietly.

In a past life, her master, the Poison Hand Medicine King, used poisons to create medicine to cure ailments. Yet he firmly believed in karma and reincarnation, so in his old age he took refuge in Buddhism, cultivating his mind and eventually achieving a state free of anger or joy. Cheng Lingsu had been his junior disciple in his later years, deeply influenced by him. This cycle of life and death, though she had already died, had sent her here. She could only believe that perhaps, beyond the veil of fate, there was some greater purpose.

Originally, she wished to avoid entanglement with the people and affairs of this world, dreaming of some chance to flee far away—to return to the shores of Dongting Lake and see what the White Horse Temple would look like centuries later. She longed to open a small clinic, to heal and help others, and to live out the rest of her life cherishing the memories of that person from her past life.

Moreover, if Temujin were in danger, the Mongol tribe she had lived with for ten years would also suffer. Her mother and brother, who had sincerely cared for and raised her, as well as the tribe members she saw daily, would all be imperiled. After ten years of companionship, how could she stand aside?

With these thoughts, Cheng Lingsu sighed softly again.

Seeing her gaze fixed on the direction Tuolei had fled and her continual sighs, Ouyang Ke raised his chin slightly and sneered, “What’s the matter? So reluctant to let go?”

Sensing the underlying meaning behind his words, Cheng Lingsu frowned, snapped back to reality, and blurted out, “I’m worried about my brother. Isn’t that natural?”

“Oh? He’s your brother?” Ouyang Ke raised an eyebrow, the hint of amusement in his eyes flashing briefly. “Then… the other young man before must be your lover?”

“You’re talking nonsense…” Cheng Lingsu stopped abruptly, then realized, “You mean Guo Jing? You already knew when… we just arrived?”

“Not them—you! The moment you came, I knew.” Ouyang Ke looked quite pleased, evidently enjoying her reaction.

Though Cheng Lingsu had dismounted from afar, his martial power was profound, and his hearing far beyond that of ordinary Mongol soldiers. He had discovered her the moment she infiltrated the camp and was about to reveal himself, but then saw Ma Yu intervene, taking both her and Guo Jing away.

Years ago, his uncle Ouyang Feng had suffered a serious defeat at the hands of the Quanzhen Sect, so the Western Venom lineage harbored resentment and caution toward Quanzhen Taoists. Recognizing Ma Yu in his Taoist robes and recalling his uncle’s warnings, Ouyang Ke abandoned the idea of showing himself. Instead, he hid in the shadows, watching their exchanges back and forth.

Ouyang Ke had expected Cheng Lingsu to persuade Ma Yu to storm the camp and rescue people. He didn’t know Ma Yu was the Quanzhen Sect’s leader. He merely thought that with the camp’s overwhelming forces and Wan Yan Honglie’s elite fighters, they could keep Ma Yu occupied and perhaps even eliminate him, depriving the Quanzhen Sect of a key figure. Yet he never imagined the Taoist would not storm the camp but instead leave with Guo Jing, leaving Cheng Lingsu behind.

Gradually, Cheng Lingsu pieced things together: Wan Yan Honglie had secretly come here to sow discord between Sang Kun and her father, hoping the Mongol tribes would fall into endless strife, so the Jin Dynasty would face no threat from the north.

Ouyang Ke had no interest in such conflicts but nodded approvingly at Cheng Lingsu’s seriousness. “Insightful and quick-witted, indeed.”

Brushing back hair scattered by the wind, Cheng Lingsu’s gaze was as clear and cold as the Onon River on the steppe. “You serve Wan Yan Honglie, yet you let Guo Jing go to report the warning, and now you let Tuolei return to mobilize troops. Aren’t you afraid of ruining his grand scheme?”

Ouyang Ke laughed heartily. Reaching out, he lightly tapped her chin. “Afraid? What has his plan to do with me? If I can win a beauty’s smile, what does it matter?”

Cheng Lingsu did not smile; instead, her brows furrowed slightly. She stepped back half a pace, avoiding the thin fan lightly hooked at her chin. She reached out and snapped the black fan’s tip into her palm with a sharp clap. A chill pierced through her skin into her bones, making her nearly drop it immediately. Only then did she realize the fan’s ribs were forged from black iron, cold as ice.

“What? You like this fan?” Ouyang Ke flicked his wrist nonchalantly, brushing away her hand and retracting the fan. With a quick flick, he opened it and lightly waved it in front of himself. “If you fancy something else, I can give it to you. But this fan…” He paused thoughtfully, then laughed softly, “If you like it, then as long as you never leave my side, you’ll get to see it all the time…”

Author’s note: I must say, Ke Ke, isn’t Lingsu just taken with your fan? And yet you’re so unwilling to part with it—how stingy!

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