Chapter Five: A Game of Chess Amid Blossoms

Ouyang Ke's eyes lit up, his heart stirred, and he paid no more attention to Tolui. With a languid smile, he spoke, “Who do you think I am? Once I give my word, I never go back on it. But though he may leave, Miss Huazhen—you must remain…”

“Very well.”

Cheng Lingsu had anticipated that he would not let matters rest so easily. In fact, she preferred it this way; alone, she could contend with Ouyang Ke and look for a chance to escape. With Tolui present, she would be distracted by concern for him. Without waiting for Ouyang Ke to say anything further, she interrupted and agreed at once.

Ouyang Ke was surprised by her swift consent and laughed heartily. “That’s more like it! With that nuisance gone, we can finally have a proper conversation.”

Cheng Lingsu ignored him, turning her back and retrieving a handkerchief embroidered with blue flowers from her bosom. She shook it lightly in the air and wrapped it around Tolui’s wounded palm, then tucked the two blue flowers back into her clothes. She quickly explained the situation to Tolui, urging him to return at once.

Tolui’s face darkened, and he stepped back twice. Suddenly, he snatched up the saber beside his feet and, fixing his gaze on Ouyang Ke, brought it down with a fierce sweep into the empty air before him. “You are skilled in martial arts; I am no match for you. But today, as the son of Temujin Khan, I vow before the steppe god: when I have destroyed those who plot against my father, I will challenge you to a duel! I will avenge my sister and show you what true heroes of the steppe are!”

As sons of Mongol tribal chiefs, Tolui was courteous and loyal, not arrogant like Dushe. Yet his pride was no less than Dushe’s. He was Temujin’s favorite son, deeply aware of his father’s ambition—to turn all lands beneath the sky into Mongol pasture.

For this dream, Tolui had trained in the army since childhood, never shirking for a day. Yet after years of hard work, he found himself captured by the enemy, unable to return his sister safely after she came to rescue him. He knew Cheng Lingsu was right: he should prioritize Temujin’s safety and hurry back to rally the troops. Still, the thought of his sister being forced to remain here filled him with humiliation so bitter he could scarcely breathe.

Mongols valued their word above all, especially when sworn to the gods of the steppe. Tolui, knowing he was outmatched, declared his oath with unwavering conviction, his expression solemn and resolute. His words brimmed with heroic spirit; though not a martial arts master, his years in the camp had given him a bearing like Temujin himself—a kingly aura, fierce and commanding. Even Ouyang Ke, who hadn’t understood the full meaning, was secretly unsettled.

Cheng Lingsu’s heart warmed; the blood of Temujin’s daughter within her seemed to sense Tolui’s unwillingness and resolve, surging fiercely and making her eyes burn with emotion. Without betraying her feelings, she quietly positioned herself between Ouyang Ke and Tolui, softly urging, “Go quickly, hurry back—I have my own way to escape.”

Tolui nodded, stepped forward, embraced her, and without another glance at Ouyang Ke, turned and ran toward the camp gate.

On the way, a few soldiers guarding the camp tried to stop him, but he struck each down with a single blow, leaving them sprawled on the ground.

Only when she saw Tolui seize a horse at the edge of the encampment and flee into the distance did Cheng Lingsu finally relax, letting out a soft sigh.

In her previous life, her master, the Poison-Hand Medicine King, used poisons as medicine to heal, but firmly believed in the cycle of cause and effect. In his later years, he became a Buddhist, cultivating his heart and mind, attaining a state beyond anger or joy. Cheng Lingsu was his youngest disciple, deeply influenced by him. Now, after the cycle of worlds, she had clearly died, yet had been sent here. She could not help but believe that there was some greater purpose at work.

She had intended to avoid becoming entangled in the affairs of this world, always wishing for a chance to escape far away and return to the banks of Dongting Lake to see what the White Horse Temple looked like centuries later. Perhaps open a small clinic, heal the sick, and spend her days cherishing the love and longing from her past life. After all, if Temujin fell into danger, the Mongol tribe in which she had lived for ten years would suffer as well. Her mother and brothers, who had cared for and raised her, and all the tribesmen she saw daily would also be in peril. After ten years together, how could she stand by and do nothing?

With these thoughts, Cheng Lingsu sighed again.

Seeing Cheng Lingsu staring into the distance where Tolui had gone, lost in thought and sighing repeatedly, Ouyang Ke raised his chin and sneered, “What, are you so reluctant to see him go?”

She caught the implication in his words, frowned, and snapped back, “I’m worried about my brother—isn’t that natural?”

“Oh? He’s your brother?” Ouyang Ke’s eyebrows rose, a fleeting smile glinting in his eyes. “Then… that boy earlier must be your lover?”

“You’re talking nonsense—” Cheng Lingsu stopped abruptly, realizing his meaning. “You mean Guo Jing? You already knew… you knew as soon as we arrived?”

“Not you two—just you! When you arrived, I knew at once.” Ouyang Ke was quite pleased, clearly enjoying her reaction.

Though Cheng Lingsu had dismounted far from the camp, his internal strength was profound, his hearing far keener than any ordinary Mongol soldier. He had noticed her almost the moment she sneaked into the camp, intending to reveal himself, but then saw Ma Yu intervene and lead both her and Guo Jing away.

Years ago, his uncle Ouyang Feng had suffered a great setback at the hands of the Quanzhen Sect. Thus, the Western Venom’s lineage harbored bitterness and wariness toward Quanzhen Daoists. Ouyang Ke recognized Ma Yu’s Daoist robes and recalled his uncle’s warnings, so he refrained from showing himself, choosing instead to watch their exchanges in secret.

He had expected Cheng Lingsu to persuade Ma Yu to storm the camp for a rescue. Unaware that Ma Yu was Quanzhen’s leader, he thought that, besides the vast army, Wanyan Honglie’s martial experts would be enough to keep Ma Yu occupied, perhaps even eliminate him and reduce Quanzhen’s power. Yet unexpectedly, the Daoist did not invade the camp but left with Guo Jing, leaving Cheng Lingsu alone.

At this point, Cheng Lingsu began to piece things together. “Wanyan Honglie’s secret arrival must be to provoke conflict between Sangkun and my father, so the Mongol tribes would fight among themselves. Then his Jin Empire would have no threat from the north.”

Ouyang Ke had no interest in such intrigues, but seeing Cheng Lingsu speak so seriously, he nodded and praised her, “So quick-witted—truly clever.”

She brushed aside wind-blown hair, her gaze as clear as the waters of the Onon River on the steppe. “You serve Wanyan Honglie, yet you let Guo Jing go to warn them, and now you let Tolui go to gather troops. Aren’t you afraid you’ll ruin his grand plan?”

Ouyang Ke laughed, reaching out to gently tap her chin, “Afraid? What does his scheme 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 as she stepped back to avoid the flirtatious gesture of his folding fan. With a swift motion, she caught the jet-black fan head in her palm. Instantly, she felt a chill pierce her skin, icy to the bone, and nearly let go. Only then did she realize the fan’s ribs were forged from black iron, cold as ice.

“What’s this? Do you like this fan?” Ouyang Ke casually flicked his wrist, freeing the fan from her grasp, then unfolded it with a flourish and waved it lightly before him. “If you fancy another, I wouldn’t mind gifting it to you. But this fan…” He paused, then smiled, “If you truly like it, stay by my side always, and you’ll see it whenever you wish…”

Author's note: Oh, Ouyang Ke, Lingsu just wants your fan—why so stingy? Such a miser~

Ouyang Ke: But that was a gift from my fa—cough, cough… my uncle…