033 Worthwhile

Ouyang Ke’s eyes brightened, his spirit stirred. Ignoring Tolui, he smiled and said, "What kind of person is Young Master Ouyang? Once I have given my word, how could I possibly go back on it? However, while he may leave, you, Miss Huazheng, must remain..."

"Very well."

Cheng Lingsu had anticipated that he would not let matters rest so easily, but this was acceptable. Alone, she could maneuver against Ouyang Ke and look for a chance to escape. With Tolui present, she was hindered by worry. Thus, without waiting for him to spout more nonsense, she cut him off and agreed.

Ouyang Ke, surprised by her swift compliance, laughed, "That’s more like it. With the meddlesome eyes out of the way, we can have a proper conversation."

Cheng Lingsu ignored him. Turning her back, she took a handkerchief containing the blue flowers from her bosom, gave it a slight shake in the air, and bandaged the split webbing of Tolui’s hand. She then tucked the flowers away. She gave Tolui a brief explanation of the situation and told him to return first.

Tolui’s face was ashen. He stepped back, suddenly drew the saber stuck in the ground beside him, and with eyes fixed on Ouyang Ke, slashed the empty air in front of himself. "Your martial arts are superior, and I am no match for you. But today, in the name of my father, Temujin Khan, I swear to the gods of the grasslands: once I have purged the villains who plotted against my father, I shall return to settle this score! I will avenge my sister and show you what true heroes of the steppe are made of!"

Like his father, a leader of the Mongol tribes, Tolui was known for his modesty and deep sense of loyalty. He lacked the blind arrogance of Dushi, yet his inner pride was no less profound. As Temujin’s most beloved son, he understood his father’s vast ambitions—to turn every place covered by the blue sky into pastureland for the Mongols.

For this goal, he had trained in the army since childhood without missing a single day. Yet, after years of grueling practice, he had not only fallen into enemy hands but was now unable to bring his sister, who had come to rescue him, to safety. Tolui knew Cheng Lingsu was right; his priority was Temujin’s safety, and he had to return to mobilize troops to support his father. But the thought of his sister being forcibly detained here choked him with such shame that he could barely breathe.

Mongols valued their word above all else, especially oaths sworn to the gods of the steppe. Though Tolui knew he was outmatched, his vow was ironclad, his expression pious and solemn. His words resonated with heroic spirit. Though he was no master of martial arts, his shoulders, tempered by long years in the barracks, bore an air of royalty identical to Temujin’s. His piercing gaze was so imposing that even Ouyang Ke, who did not fully grasp the content of his words, felt a secret chill.

Cheng Lingsu felt a warmth in her heart. The blood of Temujin’s daughter within her seemed to resonate with Tolui’s defiance and resolve, surging like a torrent and bringing a sting of heat to her eyes. She moved discreetly to block Ouyang Ke’s path, whispering, "Go quickly. Return now. I have my own ways to escape."

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

Several soldiers left to guard the gate tried to stop him, but he cut them down one by one, leaving them sprawled on the ground.

It was only when she saw Tolui seize a horse at the edge of the camp and ride far away that Cheng Lingsu felt at ease and heaved a soft sigh.

In her previous life, her master, the Poison King, used toxins to create medicines and save lives, yet he believed deeply in karmic retribution. In his later years, he converted to Buddhism, cultivating his heart and mind until he reached a state of inner peace. Cheng Lingsu, his youngest disciple, was deeply influenced by him. Having died and been reborn in this world, she had to believe there was some higher purpose at play.

She had originally intended to remain detached from the people and events of this world, hoping to find a chance to escape back to the shores of Lake Dongting, to see what the White Horse Temple would look like centuries later. She had imagined opening a small clinic, healing the sick, and living out her life guarding the memory and deep affection she held for that person from her past.

Moreover, if Temujin were in danger, the Mongol tribe that had sheltered her for ten years would also suffer. Her mother and brother, who had raised her with genuine care, and the clansmen she saw every day—could she really stand by and watch them suffer?

Thinking of this, Cheng Lingsu sighed again.

Seeing her staring in the direction Tolui had left, sighing repeatedly, Ouyang Ke lifted his chin and sneered, "What? Are you that reluctant to let him go?"

Sensing the implication, Cheng Lingsu frowned, pulling her thoughts back. "I am worried about my brother. Is that not natural?"

"Oh? He is your brother?" Ouyang Ke raised an eyebrow, his joy flickering. "Then... the lad from earlier was your lover?"

"What nonsense are you..." Cheng Lingsu paused, then realized, "You mean Guo Jing? You were here before... you knew as soon as we arrived?"

"Not 'you all,' just you. I knew the moment you arrived." Ouyang Ke looked quite pleased, clearly enjoying her reaction.

Although Cheng Lingsu had dismounted far away, Ouyang Ke’s internal energy was deep, and his hearing far surpassed that of common Mongol soldiers. He had discovered her the moment she infiltrated the camp. Just as he was about to reveal himself, he saw Ma Yu intervene and take both her and Guo Jing away.

His uncle, Ouyang Feng, had once suffered a great defeat at the hands of the Quanzhen Sect, so the disciples of the West Poison always harbored resentment and caution toward Quanzhen Taoists. Recognizing Ma Yu’s robes and remembering his uncle’s warnings, Ouyang Ke had refrained from appearing, choosing instead to hide in the shadows and watch their exchange.

He had expected Cheng Lingsu to persuade Ma Yu to storm the camp. He did not know Ma Yu was the leader of the Quanzhen Sect; he only thought that, with thousands of soldiers and the martial experts brought by Wanyan Honglie, they could surely trap and perhaps even eliminate Ma Yu, ridding the Quanzhen Sect of a master. To his surprise, the Taoist did not storm the camp at all, but instead took Guo Jing and left, leaving Cheng Lingsu behind alone.

Cheng Lingsu began to piece things together. "Wanyan Honglie came here in secret to sow discord between Sangkun and my father, keeping the Mongol tribes in constant conflict so his Jin Kingdom could avoid trouble in the north."

Ouyang Ke had no interest in such politics, but seeing Cheng Lingsu speak with such seriousness, he nodded along and praised, "Drawing inferences from one instance—truly, you are very clever."

Reaching out to smooth a stray lock of hair, Cheng Lingsu’s gaze was as clear as the Onon River on the grasslands. "You are one of Wanyan Honglie’s men, yet you let Guo Jing go to warn them, and now you have let Tolui go to mobilize troops. Are you not afraid of ruining his grand plan?"

Ouyang Ke laughed, reached out, and lightly tapped her chin with his folding fan. "Afraid? What does his scheme have to do with me? If I can win a smile from a beauty, what does that matter?"

Cheng Lingsu did not smile. Instead, she frowned and stepped back, avoiding the flirtatious fan. She reached out and caught the black fan head in her palm. A chill pierced through her skin to the bone, so intense she almost dropped it. Only then did she realize the ribs of the fan were made of profound iron, cold as ice.

"What? Do you like this fan?" Ouyang Ke flicked his wrist as if accidentally, pulling the fan from her hand. He snapped it open and waved it lightly in front of him. "If you fancy anything else, I would gladly give it to you, but this fan..." He mused for a moment, then chuckled, "If you like it, as long as you follow me without leaving my side, you can see it whenever you wish..."