Chapter 861: Heartless

Hidden in the tree, Song Qingshu’s expression turned peculiar. Had he not been certain of his flawless concealment—enough to evade even Ouyang Feng’s notice—he might have suspected the man was deliberately currying favor in front of him.

Recalling how Ouyang Feng had once delivered Huang Rong right into his hands, Song Qingshu couldn’t help but marvel. To others, the man might be the dread-inspiring “Western Poison,” but to him, he was nothing short of a lucky star.

First, there was Huang Rong, and now he was practically pushing Zhao Min into his arms. Song Qingshu almost felt like kissing the old man in gratitude.

“Lady Zhao, why so silent?” Ouyang Feng taunted, his eyes fixed mockingly on Zhao Min nearby.

“I have no ties to that man Song Qingshu, so you needn’t hold back on my account.” Her face flushed red and pale by turns. Even if she did have a relationship with him, how could she admit it in front of so many onlookers?

“Hahaha!” The one most pleased by her answer was none other than Gongsun Zhi. “Master Ouyang, you heard her yourself. It’s not that I’m disregarding your face.”

Ouyang Feng snorted, his expression dark and unreadable as he stood motionless.

Gongsun Zhi ignored him. Though wary of the infamous Western Poison, he trusted his own Golden Blade and Black Sword—he might be slightly inferior in martial arts, but the gap wasn’t insurmountable. Even if they fought, he wouldn’t back down. Besides, they were currently allies. He doubted Ouyang Feng would turn on him over an outsider.

“Hehehe, the little princess is quite the beauty,” Gongsun Zhi sneered, licking his lips as he stepped closer. “Surrender quietly, and I won’t make this difficult. But if you refuse… don’t blame me for being rough.”

The Xuanming Elders paled and whispered urgently, “Princess, we’ll hold him off for a few breaths. Use the chaos to escape!” They weren’t the loyal, self-sacrificing type—but the Mongol Empire rewarded merit and punished failure harshly. If they abandoned their mistress, death would be a mercy compared to what awaited them. Better to gamble on survival; if they succeeded, the rewards would be great.

Zhao Min shook her head, standing firm without a trace of fear. “I’m not leaving. Don’t worry—he can’t harm me.”

“Oh?” Gongsun Zhi chuckled. “Is the princess secretly a martial arts master?”

She smiled faintly. “I know some martial arts, but compared to the master of the Passionless Valley, my skills are laughable.”

Her radiant smile left him dazed, eager to prolong the conversation just to hear her sweet voice. In no hurry to act, he asked with amusement, “Then why are you so sure I can’t hurt you?”

The corners of her lips curled slightly. “Because someone won’t let you.”

Gongsun Zhi stiffened, glancing back at Ouyang Feng. But the man’s eyes were half-lidded, showing no interest. Relieved, he sneered, “Princess, it’s a bit late to rely on Master Ouyang now, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t referring to him.”

“Then who?” He scanned the surroundings warily, but seeing his men had full control of the situation, his confidence returned. “Did you bring some hidden expert?”

He’d heard how Wanyan Liang had suffered at her hands. If monsters like Taoist Baishang, Vajra Sect Leader, or Monk Jinlun were lying in ambush, he’d be in real danger.

Zhao Min pressed her lips together, silent. Gongsun Zhi tensed, waiting—but nothing happened. Humiliated at being tricked by a mere girl, his face twisted in fury.

“Hmph! Let’s see who’ll save you now!” He lunged, his clawed hand reaching for her—though his cautious nature kept him alert for any ambush, slowing his movements.

As his fingers neared, Zhao Min took a deep breath, her chest rising slightly before she suddenly called out in a clear, ringing voice:

“Song Qingshu, you heartless b*stard! Are you really going to watch this pervert bully me?!”

Up in the tree, Song Qingshu nearly fell from his perch. He was certain that even Ouyang Feng couldn’t detect him and Xiao Longnu at this distance—how had Zhao Min known?

The moment her words rang out, the battlefield plunged into eerie silence.

Ouyang Feng’s eyes flashed as he scanned the surroundings. Even Murong Bo and Song Yuanqiao, locked in combat, paused—Murong Bo wary from past encounters, while the Wudang trio reeled in shock. Wasn’t Zhao Min supposed to be with Zhang Wuji? Since when was she involved with Song Qingshu?

Gongsun Zhi froze mid-motion. His original Golden Blade and Black Sword had been destroyed by Song Qingshu at the Golden Serpent Camp assembly. The replacements were inferior, lacking their predecessors’ sharpness.

Elimated early by Yang Guo, he hadn’t stayed to watch the later matches but had heard rumors—Song Qingshu had defeated countless experts to claim the title of Golden Serpent King. His skills were likely above his own.

“Song Qingshu? Heh, I’ve been wanting to settle the score for my blades.” Gongsun Zhi remained confident. His loss to Yang Guo had been due to carelessness against the Black Iron Sword. In raw skill and experience, he believed himself superior, capable of competing with any top master. While wary, he wasn’t afraid.

But when no one appeared, he burst into laughter. “Princess, the man you’re counting on seems to be a coward! Why not follow me instead?”

“You?” Zhao Min scoffed. “A mere dog of Wanyan Liang dares to covet this princess?”

Though he’d pledged himself to Wanyan Liang, Gongsun Zhi was still a sect master. Being called a dog to his face shattered his composure. “You shameless little wretch!” He swung a meaty palm at her face.

The Xuanming Elders rushed to block him, but their injuries rendered them useless. With a single motion, he sent them flying. “Out of my way!”

As his palm descended, Zhao Min shut her eyes. Though her face was calm, the faint tremble of her lashes betrayed her fear.