Chapter 883: The Gathering of Widows

Pucha Alihu stared deeply at him. “Even my own daughter doesn’t understand me—she even hates me. Yet, you, an outsider, have managed to guess my thoughts with uncanny accuracy. I never understood why Gebi favored you before, but now I do. Marrying a man like you is the greatest happiness a woman could have.”

Song Qingshu flushed slightly at her praise and chuckled awkwardly. “You flatter me too much, madam.”

“Mother, he’s not Tang Kuo Bian,” Wanyan Chongjie interjected, still somewhat dazed but instinctively correcting her mother.

“Hmm?” Pucha Alihu’s expression turned to surprise.

Wanyan Chongjie then briefly explained how she had discovered his true identity.

Song Qingshu smiled faintly. “Little girl, you’re being unfair. What makes you so sure I’m an imposter? Just because I know martial arts? If I recall correctly, everyone believes you don’t know martial arts either, yet you’re clearly highly skilled. Should I suspect you’re an imposter too?”

Wanyan Chongjie was momentarily speechless. “You’re twisting words! You admitted it earlier!”

“Did I?” Song Qingshu looked at her with an amused expression.

Wanyan Chongjie froze, realizing that he had never actually admitted to anything—she had been the one jumping to conclusions.

Pucha Alihu placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Whether you’re truly Tang Kuo Bian or not makes little difference to us. The only thing we care about is… are you a friend or an enemy?”

“Friend or foe, neither of you can influence my choice. Don’t you agree, madam?” Song Qingshu studied the mature, alluring woman before him, inwardly marveling at how she had managed to navigate the affections of so many men—she certainly had the charm for it.

“You’re absolutely right,” Pucha Alihu smiled. “From your earlier words, it’s clear you bear no ill will toward us. I was overthinking things.”

“Given the delicate dance on a steel wire you’ve been performing all these years, caution is only natural,” Song Qingshu replied.

“A dance on a steel wire? That’s quite the apt metaphor,” Pucha Alihu laughed behind her sleeve.

Wanyan Chongjie frowned. Due to the shadows of the past, she instinctively disliked seeing her mother banter with other men. Cutting in, she asked, “Mother, was what he said earlier true?”

Pucha Alihu’s smile faded as she sighed. “When your father died, I wanted to join him. But you were still young—if I had died, you wouldn’t have survived, and even if you had, your life would have been miserable. I hesitated until the day Wanyan Liang forced his way into our home… That was when I resolved to live on, no matter how difficult, to avenge your father and grandfather—and myself. All these years of humiliation, even my own daughter looking down on me… I wavered at times, but my sacrifices weren’t in vain. I finally succeeded in killing that old b’stard Wanyan Zonggan.”

“Wait—you killed Wanyan Zonggan? Didn’t he retire due to illness?” Wanyan Chongjie asked, shocked.

“Do you really think that old monster would willingly give up power?” Pucha Alihu hesitated before shaking her head. “You don’t want to know the details.”

Wanyan Chongjie was stunned for a moment before realization dawned. Her nose tingled as she threw herself into her mother’s arms. “Mother, I’m sorry… I misunderstood you all these years…”

As mother and daughter wept together, Song Qingshu decided not to disturb them. He walked over to Zhao Min, gazing at her peaceful sleeping face before frowning. Deciding what to do with her was a real problem—letting her go was out of the question, but leaving her here wasn’t safe either. Wanyan Chongjie might seem innocent on the surface, but she was ruthless at heart. She might silence Zhao Min the moment his back was turned.

After crying for a while, Wanyan Chongjie suddenly lifted her head. “Mother, if you’ve already killed Wanyan Zonggan, then I’ll kill Wanyan Liang. That will avenge Father and Grandfather!”

“No!” Pucha Alihu grabbed her daughter’s arm. “Wanyan Liang is surrounded by experts. You’d never succeed.”

“Then he can help me!” Wanyan Chongjie pointed at Song Qingshu. “He promised to help me kill Wanyan Liang!”

“When did I promise that?” Song Qingshu looked exasperated. This girl was really trying to rope him in.

“If you don’t help, I’ll expose you as an imposter,” Wanyan Chongjie shot back. “And don’t try to talk your way out of it—see if anyone in the capital believes you.”

“Fine, you win,” Song Qingshu rubbed his temples. “I’ll help you kill Wanyan Liang, but not now.”

“When, then?” Wanyan Chongjie pressed.

“That’s none of your concern. I’m working on a plan to deal with Wanyan Liang. Don’t interfere.”

“I don’t believe you!” Wanyan Chongjie narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t about to fall for a stalling tactic.

Song Qingshu’s expression darkened, but Pucha Alihu quickly intervened. “Enough. I believe he won’t deceive us.”

“But Wanyan Liang has even given him his favorite carriage! Why would he kill him?” Wanyan Chongjie argued, recounting her failed assassination attempt and how she had mistakenly killed someone else instead. Even Pucha Alihu began to look skeptical.

Song Qingshu smirked inwardly.

‘Giving me a carriage is nothing—Wanyan Liang even let me ride his consort…’

Noticing their doubtful gazes, he decided to change tactics. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll take you to meet someone.”

“Who?” both women asked in unison.

“Gebi,” Song Qingshu replied solemnly. He wasn’t doing this to convince them but to prevent future complications from mutual distrust. With his skills, assassinating Wanyan Liang wasn’t the hard part—the real challenge lay in what came after.

This was a rare opportunity to infiltrate the core of the Jin Dynasty’s power. Wasting it would be a shame. After learning of Wanyan Liang’s ambition to usurp the throne, Song Qingshu had begun formulating a plan: let Wanyan Liang eliminate the other key figures in the Jin court, then take his place once he was poised to claim the throne.

But replacing Wanyan Liang wouldn’t be easy. His impersonation of the Kangxi Emperor had succeeded only due to a series of coincidences and at great risk. Moreover, he hadn’t had time to build a loyal faction, leaving his control over the Qing Dynasty tenuous—even with someone as brilliant as Dongfang Muxue assisting him.

Had he established a strong power base, the Qing court would never have sent troops to besiege the Golden Serpent Camp. The decision to attack had been a consensus among the Qing nobility—as emperor, he couldn’t oppose it without raising suspicion. Only through Dongfang Muxue’s intelligence network had he narrowly achieved a miracle victory, followed by a purge of the Qing aristocracy to solidify his rule.

This time in the Jin Dynasty, he refused to repeat history. Last time, he had acted out of desperation. Now, with ample time, he would prepare thoroughly.

By allying with Wanyan Chongjie and her mother, he had secured two of the Jin Dynasty’s three great clans: the Pucha and Tang Kuo families. Through Wanyan Chongjie, he could connect with the Taizong faction; through Yang Guo, the Prince of Zhao’s faction; and with Empress Pei Man also on his side, his eventual control over the Jin Dynasty would far surpass his shaky reign as the Qing’s figurehead emperor.

*****

Carrying Zhao Min, Song Qingshu led Wanyan Chongjie and her mother back to the Tang Kuo residence under cover of night.

Gebi was startled when she saw the group. “Song… husband, what’s going on?”

After laying Zhao Min on the bed and covering her with a blanket, Song Qingshu gestured to the other two. “Leave her for now. You recognize them, right?”

Gebi nodded awkwardly. She was somewhat familiar with Wanyan Chongjie, who occasionally visited and affectionately called her “Auntie,” but she had little interaction with Pucha Alihu. Given Pucha Alihu’s reputation, the reserved Gebi had always privately looked down on her.

After settling Zhao Min, Song Qingshu recounted the day’s events.

When Gebi heard how the mother and daughter had been seeking revenge against Wanyan Liang and his father all these years—especially Pucha Alihu’s sacrifices—tears welled up in her eyes.

Having suffered because of Tang Kuo Bian’s death, Gebi felt a surge of solidarity. Her attitude toward the two softened instantly.

“Did you bring us here just to tell Auntie about us?” Wanyan Chongjie frowned. The more people who knew their secret, the greater the risk. Song Qingshu had claimed he could prove he was targeting Wanyan Liang, but she still wasn’t convinced.

“Of course not. Weren’t you curious about my real identity?” Song Qingshu peeled off his beard and mask, revealing his true face.

He wasn’t worried about exposing his disguise skills. Tang Kuo Bian’s most distinctive feature was his thick beard—most people would assume it was a simple cosmetic addition, not a full-fledged impersonation. Few would suspect he could perfectly mimic another person’s appearance.