Chapter 821: A Case of Mistaken Identity

Despite being on guard, Song Qingshu was still startled by the vicious slash. He could keenly sense the overwhelming, ruthless killing intent behind the blade—a presence honed only after taking countless lives. Had he been caught off guard, he wasn’t sure he could have dodged it.

With a light tap of his toes, he retreated several zhang, glancing down at the gash in his robes where the blade’s Qi had sliced through. He sighed inwardly,

‘The world is truly full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers. Who would have thought an unknown guard in the Jin Dynasty’s palace could possess such skill? If you ventured into the wulin, you’d surely make a name for yourself. Wouldn’t that be better than serving as a lowly servant in the palace?’

The guard, however, was even more shocked than Song Qingshu. His unstoppable blade had been dodged by this seemingly insignificant eunuch. Reacting swiftly, he growled, “You’re not Xiao Xingguo. Who are you?”

“Like you, a nameless nobody,” Song Qingshu replied. Having seen countless villains in past-life dramas die from excessive chatter, he didn’t consider himself a villain, but he knew better than to let arrogance cloud his judgment.

“Whoever you are, you’re dead tonight!” The guard wasted no more words, swinging his blade at Song Qingshu.

Sensing the overwhelming deathly aura in the man’s strikes, Song Qingshu didn’t dare to recklessly catch the blade with his fingers. Instead, he used the Snake Form Swift Evasion, his figure blurring as the guard unleashed thirteen consecutive slashes—none of which even grazed his sleeves.

The guard was inwardly stunned. His blade technique was uniquely sinister, each strike stronger than the last, stacking momentum until the thirteenth slash, which could cleave through anything!

Over the decades, this technique had claimed countless lives, including martial artists stronger than him. In his experience, those wulin experts had one fatal flaw—pride. Many had arrogantly tried to block his strikes head-on, only to meet their doom.

Yet this eunuch seemed to foresee his every move, effortlessly evading all thirteen slashes. The guard, instead, suffered backlash from his own blade Qi, sustaining internal injuries.

Realizing he couldn’t kill this mysterious eunuch, the guard made a swift decision—he turned and fled into the darkness.

Song Qingshu blinked in disbelief. One moment, the man had been acting invincible; the next, he was running for his life. The shift was almost comical.

Just as he was about to give chase, he paused, retracting his foot and silently watching the fleeing figure.

The guard, initially wary of Song Qingshu’s Qinggong, was elated when he didn’t pursue. But at that moment, an icy, sinister gust of wind shot toward him—too fast to dodge.

Unwilling to be delayed, the guard slashed out, hoping to use the rebound force to escape. But instead of resistance, searing pain shot through his wrist. He turned in horror to see five bloody holes puncturing his flesh!

His gaze darted upward, locking onto a breathtakingly beautiful woman with a deathly pale complexion standing mere inches away.

‘Is she a ghost… or an immortal?’

Those were his final thoughts before darkness claimed him.

Zhao Yingluo, having dealt with the fleeing guard, drifted gracefully toward Song Qingshu, a faint smirk on her lips. “They say the Golden Serpent King is peerless in martial arts, but today’s performance was… underwhelming.”

Song Qingshu chuckled. “I’m sure that man would rather die by a fairy’s delicate hands than by a brute like me. I’m too kind to let him die resentful.”

“Spare me the flattery—hey! Where are you looking?!” Zhao Yingluo’s serene demeanor shattered as she noticed Song Qingshu’s gaze lingering on her backside.

“Just admiring the fairy’s… unique charms,” he replied with a roguish grin.

Zhao Yingluo’s chest heaved with indignation. For some reason, this man always shattered her usual composure, leaving her fuming.

“Since someone wants you dead, I assume your visit to the Empress bore fruit?” Remembering past lessons, she swiftly changed the subject, refusing to engage further.

Disappointed she didn’t take the bait, Song Qingshu turned serious. “It’s too early to say. I need to return to Taihe Hall to confirm.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re still thinking about… that? Now?”

He blinked before realizing her implication—she thought he wanted to “deepen relations” with Empress Pei Man. He nearly facepalmed.

‘This woman looks ethereal, yet her mind is in the gutter! Do I really seem that desperate?’

Instead of correcting her, he leaned into the joke. “What’s wrong with a man’s desires? If you were willing to ‘sacrifice’ yourself, I wouldn’t spare a thought for that Empress.”

“Shameless! Pervert!” A faint blush colored her pale cheeks, but she wasn’t truly angry. By now, she understood his antics—the more he teased, the more it confirmed her earlier misunderstanding.

“Care to join me at Taihe Hall?” Song Qingshu figured she’d want to see her sisters, Zhao Hu’er and Zhao Yuanyuan.

“Won’t I be… interrupting your fun with the Empress?” Her lips curled slightly.

“Not at all. I’ve got unique tastes—having an audience only heightens the excitement.” He kept a straight face.

“Ugh!” She regretted engaging.

‘From now on, I’m ignoring this scoundrel unless absolutely necessary.’

As she flew toward Taihe Hall in silence, Song Qingshu grew concerned for the two girls inside and quickly followed.

***

Inside Taihe Hall, Empress Pei Man covered her nose with a handkerchief, extinguishing the incense by the bed. She gazed coldly at the unconscious girls. “Pity… such beauties.”

Her hands closed around their throats, tightening slowly. Even in unconsciousness, their faces twisted in pain.

Just as she was about to crush their windpipes, a sudden numbness shot through her wrists, forcing her hands to go limp.

“Who’s there?!” She whirled around in alarm.

“Have you forgotten me so soon, Your Majesty?” Song Qingshu strolled in, smiling.

“You?!” Her eyes darted behind him. “Where’s Lu Li?”

“Oh, him? Sadly, the fairy here… ‘handled’ him.” He stepped aside, revealing Zhao Yingluo.

She nearly smacked him. “‘Handled’?! He died to my Nine Yin White Bone Claw!”

Empress Pei Man paled, recognizing the woman. “You’re that assassin from before!”

“Hmph.” The woman didn’t deny it.

“Then who are you?” The Empress remained composed, knowing screaming would be pointless against such masters.

Song Qingshu removed Xiao Xingguo’s disguise. “Finally, no more playing eunuch. This thing was uncomfortable. Let’s reintroduce ourselves—I’m Song Qingshu. Pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“You’re the Golden Serpent rebel?!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her blunder.

“Guilty as charged.” He didn’t seem offended.

Studying him, she noted his handsome, heroic features—nothing like the brutish rebels she’d imagined. Then a realization struck her. “That night… it was you?”

“Ahem.” He glanced at Zhao Yingluo before nodding awkwardly. “You were quite… insistent. I couldn’t refuse.”

Zhao Yingluo muttered, “Adulterers.”

Empress Pei Man burst into laughter. “Had I known it was you, I wouldn’t have spent these days in fear!”

“Shouldn’t you be more… afraid right now?” Song Qingshu studied her.

“Others might terrify me, but why fear my lover?” Her voice dripped with implication.

Song Qingshu had no retort.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yingluo strode to the bed, gasping at the sight of the girls. “Hu’er! Yuanyuan!”

Though they’d been infants when she was rescued, she’d spied on them often in the palace. Seeing the disheveled state of their clothes and the bloodstains on the sheets, her eyes turned glacial.

“Who did this?!” She spun toward Empress Pei Man.

The Empress glanced at Song Qingshu. “Why, the dashing Young Master Song, of course.”

“You beast—I’ll kill you!” Zhao Yingluo unleashed her Nine Yin White Bone Claw, striking with lethal fury.