Chapter 45: The Second Miss of the Lu Family (1)

Sangkun and Jamuka were determined that this campaign would be a decisive strike, so they had mobilized almost all of their main forces, gathering them outside the camp. Apart from the outer ring of sentries patrolling the perimeter, only a handful of stragglers, women, and children remained behind to watch over the livestock and treasures. Since Cheng Lingsu and her companions were in a secluded corner of the camp, no one paid much attention to what was happening there.

Cheng Lingsu frowned slightly, suspicion arising in her heart. If Jamuka truly intended to keep Tolui as his trump card, how could he have left only two soldiers to guard him?

Ouyang Ke seemed to read her thoughts. "With me guarding this place, what need is there for anyone else?"

That was the plain truth. When it came to guarding hostages, numbers did not always equate to effectiveness. Moreover, every extra man left behind was one less to fight on the battlefield. While a martial arts master like Ouyang Ke might not sway the tide of battle, as a jailer, his skills ensured that unless a true expert attempted a rescue, no one could spirit the hostages away under his watchful eyes—even if he were to doze off.

Last night, Ouyang Ke had recognized Tolui as the one speaking to Cheng Lingsu outside the tent. He anticipated she would attempt a rescue, so he had volunteered to watch over the hostages and found an excuse to dismiss the other soldiers nearby, all in hopes of luring Cheng Lingsu into revealing herself.

Yet from Ouyang Ke’s words, Cheng Lingsu discerned something more. “Are you one of Wanyan Honglie’s men?”

Ouyang Ke started in surprise, then burst out laughing, idly fanning himself. “You are indeed perceptive, miss—one hint and you understand. His Highness, the Sixth Prince of the Great Jin, has engaged me at great expense. I journeyed from the Western Regions, thinking I’d come to some savage land, but on my very first day, I encountered such a clever and enchanting lady as yourself. Truly, the trip has not been in vain.”

He circled the conversation back to Cheng Lingsu, lavishing praise and admiration, but she merely pressed her lips together, refusing to respond.

“Well? Now that you’ve met me, do you still have Mei Chaofeng to come to your rescue?” Ouyang Ke, as if oblivious to Tolui standing between them, strolled two steps to the side, his words suggestive. “Or perhaps, shall I offer you a solution?”

“Are you trying to have me acknowledge you as my master again?” Cheng Lingsu’s cold smile brimmed with disdain. In her previous life, she had been apprenticed to the Poison Hand Medicine King, whom she revered deeply for his painstaking tutelage and for raising her. Even after her inexplicable rebirth in this life, she still saw herself as his disciple. Her birth and appearance had changed, but not her loyalty to her master’s lineage. Besides, Ouyang Ke’s frivolous manner clearly revealed ulterior motives; this talk of apprenticeship was far from innocent.

“What’s so bad about becoming my disciple? With me, you’d live in wealth and comfort, wanting for nothing atop White Camel Mountain. Isn’t that better than braving the desert winds out here?”

Cheng Lingsu’s face darkened; she would not waste words bantering with him. Instead, she patted Tolui’s shoulder, stepped out from behind him, and fixed Ouyang Ke with a silent, steady gaze.

Since coming of age, Ouyang Ke had kept countless concubines. Besides teaching them martial arts to help them navigate the world, he also delighted in their affection. These women, in turn, became his female disciples, and the affectionate title “Young Master and Master” was a playful invention of theirs to please him.

He possessed formidable martial skills, striking good looks, graceful manners, and an uncanny talent for reading women’s hearts. Coupled with his status as Young Master of White Camel Mountain, even those women he had originally abducted to the Western Regions would eventually fall for his charm, becoming his willing concubines. He had seen many women vie desperately for his favor, but never one so young and cold as Cheng Lingsu. Rarer still, this aloof girl was a master of poisons! His innate pride and competitiveness were thus stoked—he wanted all the more to take her back to White Camel Mountain.

Now, seeing Cheng Lingsu preparing to stand her ground despite knowing she was outmatched, Ouyang Ke quickly shook his head with a laugh. “I, Ouyang Ke, have never liked to use force. If you don’t wish to become my disciple, so be it. Let’s strike a deal instead, shall we?”

“What kind of deal?” Cheng Lingsu asked warily.

“We’ve known each other this long, yet I still don’t know your name.” Ouyang Ke closed his fan, took a step closer, and pointed toward Tolui. “Tell me your name, and I’ll pretend I never saw him.”

“My name?” Cheng Lingsu was taken aback.

She hadn’t expected him to forgo such a golden opportunity for extortion in favor of such an easy demand. But Ouyang Ke, well-versed in the art of seduction, fully understood the wisdom of feigning indifference to ensnare his prey. Had he pressed her with an unreasonable condition, it would only have provoked her to resist all the more fiercely. Better to boil the frog slowly, quietly eroding her guard.

“What do you say?” Ouyang Ke winked at her.

Cheng Lingsu arched an eyebrow and switched to Mongolian. “Huazheng.”

Ouyang Ke understood not a word of Mongolian, but he recalled hearing Tolui call that name outside the tent the other day. He guessed it must be correct, so he repeated it after her, mimicking her pronunciation: “Huazheng… Huazheng…” It was his first time speaking Mongolian, yet his pronunciation was flawless, the syllables in perfect order.

His lips, opening and closing as he repeated the name, still retained a faint smile, but the former levity faded from his brow. That name, rolled between his lips and teeth, was spoken with none of his usual disrespect. His handsome features were filled with a rare gravity, as if he were a devout herdsman reciting a prayer to the heavens.

Though Cheng Lingsu had deliberately used the Mongolian name that was not truly hers, she had borne it for ten years. However detached she might be, her cheeks flushed faintly at that moment.

Tolui was utterly bewildered. He did not understand Chinese and had no idea what had just transpired between Cheng Lingsu and Ouyang Ke to make this troublesome Han man suddenly speak Mongolian, repeatedly calling for “Huazheng.” As for Cheng Lingsu speaking Chinese, he had been momentarily surprised, but then remembered how close she had always been to Guo Jing since childhood. Naturally, he assumed she had learned her Chinese from Guo Jing.

But his mind was preoccupied with the plot against Temujin, and he spied a few soldiers in the distance casting glances their way. Not wanting to linger, he bent down to pick up the sword from the unconscious soldier, gripped it at his waist, seized Cheng Lingsu’s hand, and shook it firmly. “I’ll hold him off. You go. Tell Father—don’t, under any circumstances, come to Wang Khan’s camp.”

“He wants you to leave?” Ouyang Ke, though he hadn’t understood Tolui’s words, guessed his intent from his actions. His gaze lingered on Tolui’s hand holding Cheng Lingsu’s, his smile chilling, his eyes once again filled with flippant mockery. In a blur, Tolui felt his vision swim; the back of his blade seemed to be struck by some force, a surge of power rebounded along the edge, and he lost his grip. The sword flew from his grasp with a whoosh.

The sword traced a cold arc through the morning sunlight, landing with a thud at their feet, its handle still trembling, its blade quivering with a chilling gleam. Tolui’s right hand, which had held the sword, was torn open at the webbing, blood streaming down. Almost at the same instant, he felt a numbness in his opposite shoulder, and his hand, which had been gripping Cheng Lingsu, slackened.

Cheng Lingsu had been wary of Ouyang Ke, but she had not expected him to move so swiftly. She caught a blur of white at the edge of her vision—by the time she tried to intervene, it was already too late. All she could do was flip her wrist, positioning a silver needle—the same one she had used to incapacitate the two soldiers earlier—against her wrist.

Ouyang Ke, after striking the sword away and subduing Tolui, had intended to snatch Cheng Lingsu’s wrist and drag her into his arms. Yet she anticipated him, setting the needle in place so that if he grabbed her, he would impale his own hand.

With his skills, Ouyang Ke hardly needed such tricks to detain the siblings. But he prided himself on his gallantry and was accustomed to toying with his prey—catching and releasing them for his own amusement, just as a wicked cat bats at a mouse. He never missed a chance to savor a beauty’s look of alarm. But as his fingers brushed near her wrist, he felt a sudden prick; catching a glint of silver out of the corner of his eye, he realized just in time what she had done.

Fortunately, his intent had been only to tease, not to harm, so he had not used his full strength. He hastily withdrew, his toes tapping the ground as he floated back.

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d pretend not to have seen him?” Cheng Lingsu grabbed Tolui, who was about to charge forward again, her clear voice ringing with barely contained fury, her pale, delicate cheeks flushing like fine red jade.

Even when facing Ouyang Ke, Cheng Lingsu’s anger was usually restrained, mere hints of displeasure. Ouyang Ke had met his share of proud and aloof women, but even though he hadn’t known Cheng Lingsu long, he had the sense that this girl was utterly detached from the world—a calmness born not merely of courage or skill, but a kind of innate remoteness.

Ouyang Ke had assumed this was simply her nature. He hadn’t expected her to suddenly bristle with such vivid emotion, as though a fine ink painting had burst into color. Her eyes flashed as she glared, and though she was still young, her stern rebuke carried an undeniable authority.

In truth, not only Ouyang Ke, but even Tolui, who had grown up with her, had never seen her like this before. He was startled, rooted to the spot, the urge to throw himself at Ouyang Ke suddenly vanishing…

Author’s note: Lingsu shows her claws, meow~ But Ouyang Ke is such a shameless little snake~