011 Administering the Medicine

Ouyang Ke’s eyes lit up, and his heart stirred. He no longer paid any attention to Tolui, merely smiling as he spoke. “What sort of man do you take Young Master Ouyang for? Once I give my word, how could I possibly go back on it? He may leave, of course—but Lady Huazheng, you will remain…”

“Very well.”

Cheng Lingsu had expected that he would not be so easily satisfied. Still, this arrangement suited her better. Alone, she might yet be able to keep Ouyang Ke occupied while searching for a chance to escape. With Tolui there as well, she could not help but have more to worry about. Thus, before he could say anything more outrageous, she cut him off and agreed.

Ouyang Ke had not expected her to consent so readily. He threw back his head and laughed. “That is more like it. Now that the troublesome eyesore is gone, we can have a proper conversation.”

Cheng Lingsu ignored him. Turning her back, she drew from her breast the handkerchief wrapped around the blue flowers and gave it a slight shake in the air. She then bound it around the split web of Tolui’s thumb before returning the two blossoms to her bosom. After briefly explaining the situation to him, she told him to go back first.

Tolui’s face turned livid. He stepped back twice, then suddenly seized the single-edged saber planted beside his foot. Staring in Ouyang Ke’s direction, he raised the blade and brought it down in a savage stroke through the empty air before him.

“Your martial arts are superior, and I am no match for you. But today, in the name of Temujin Khan’s son, I swear before the Sky God of the steppe that once I have destroyed those who plotted against my father, I will fight you to the death! I will avenge my sister—and show you what true sons and daughters of the steppe are!”

Both were sons of Mongol tribal chieftains. Tolui was modest and courteous, and possessed of deep loyalty; unlike Du Shi, he was not blindly arrogant. Yet the pride in his heart was no less than Du Shi’s. He was Temujin’s favorite son and understood his father’s ambitions and breadth of spirit. He meant to help his father turn every land beneath the blue sky into pasture for the Mongol people.

For that purpose, he had trained in the army since childhood, never wasting a single day. After years of arduous practice, not only had he fallen into enemy hands, but today he could not even bring his sister, who had come to rescue him, safely home. Tolui knew Cheng Lingsu was right: at that moment, Temujin’s safety had to come first. He needed to return as quickly as possible, mobilize the troops, and go to his father’s aid after the ambush. Yet the thought of his sister being forcibly detained here caused such humiliation to choke him that he could scarcely breathe.

The Mongols valued promises above all else, and even more so when an oath was sworn before the deity revered by everyone on the steppe. Tolui knew perfectly well that he was no match for Ouyang Ke, yet he still made his vow with absolute resolve. His expression was solemn and devout, his words blazing with heroic spirit. Though he was no master of martial arts, years in the military had given his broad shoulders an aura of kingship astonishingly like Temujin’s own—fearless, commanding, and contemptuous of all beneath him. Even Ouyang Ke, who had not understood the details of his speech, could not help feeling secretly alarmed.

Warmth stirred in Cheng Lingsu’s heart. The hot blood belonging solely to Temujin’s daughter seemed to sense Tolui’s unwillingness and determination, surging through her like a torrent until her eyes grew faintly hot. Without revealing her intention, she shifted sideways and placed herself between Ouyang Ke and the direction from which he might strike.

“Go,” she said softly. “Hurry back. I have my own way of escaping.”

Tolui nodded. He took two more steps forward, spread his arms, and embraced her once. Then, without sparing Ouyang Ke another glance, he turned and ran toward the camp gates.

On the way, several soldiers left behind to guard the camp saw him emerge and tried to stop him. He cut each of them down with a single stroke.

Only after she had watched Tolui seize a horse at the edge of the camp and gallop away did Cheng Lingsu finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.

In her previous life, her master, the Poison-Handed Medicine King, had used poisons to prepare medicines, healing the sick and saving lives. Yet he firmly believed in karmic retribution and the cycle of rebirth. In his later years, he had taken refuge in Buddhism, cultivating his character and calming his heart until he reached a state beyond anger and joy.

Cheng Lingsu had been the young disciple he accepted in his old age and had been deeply influenced by him. After passing through the cycle of life and death and being sent here despite having already died, she could not help believing that perhaps some unseen purpose lay behind it all.

She had never wanted to become too entangled with the people and affairs of this world. She had even been considering finding an opportunity to flee far away, returning to the shores of Dongting Lake to see what White Horse Temple would look like several centuries later. Perhaps she would open a small clinic, heal the sick, save lives, and spend the rest of her existence guarding the memory and devotion she had carried for that person in her former life.

What was more, if Temujin were in danger, the Mongol tribe where she had lived for ten years would suffer with him. The mother and elder brother who had sincerely cared for her and raised her, along with all the tribespeople she saw and lived among each day, would be placed in peril as well. After ten years together, how could she stand by and do nothing?

At that thought, Cheng Lingsu sighed again, softly and sadly.

Seeing her still staring absently in the direction Tolui had gone, sighing again and again, Ouyang Ke lifted his chin and sneered. “What is it? You cannot bear to part with him?”

Hearing the implication behind his words, Cheng Lingsu frowned and pulled herself back to the present.

“I am worried about my brother. Is that not natural?”

“Oh? He is your brother?” A flash of delight crossed the corner of Ouyang Ke’s eyes and vanished. “Then… was that other young fellow your sweetheart?”

“What nonsense are you—” Cheng Lingsu broke off abruptly, then realized what he meant. “You mean Guo Jing? You knew about us earlier? You knew the moment we arrived?”

“Not you two. You.” Ouyang Ke was clearly pleased by her reaction. “The moment you arrived, I knew.”

Although Cheng Lingsu had dismounted while still some distance away, Ouyang Ke’s inner strength was profound. How could his hearing compare with that of ordinary Mongol soldiers? He had noticed her almost as soon as she slipped into the main camp. Just as he was about to reveal himself, Ma Yu had appeared and carried her and Guo Jing away.

Years earlier, his uncle Ouyang Feng had suffered a great defeat at the hands of the Quanzhen Sect. As a result, the lineage of the Western Poison had always harbored resentment and wariness toward Quanzhen priests. Ouyang Ke recognized Ma Yu’s Taoist robes and, remembering his uncle’s warnings, abandoned the thought of showing himself. Instead, he remained hidden and watched as the two went back and forth, exchanging words several times.

He had assumed Cheng Lingsu would persuade Ma Yu to help her storm the camp and rescue the prisoners. He did not know that Ma Yu was the head of the Quanzhen Sect; he only thought that, besides the countless soldiers in the camp, Wanyan Honglie had brought several skilled martial artists with him. They should have been enough to tie Ma Yu down, and perhaps even give Ouyang Ke the chance to eliminate him, depriving the Quanzhen Sect of one of its leading masters.

He had never expected that the priest would not only refuse to storm the camp, but would leave with Guo Jing as well, abandoning Cheng Lingsu alone in this place.

By now, Cheng Lingsu had gradually pieced together the truth.

“Wanyan Honglie came here in secret. He must have intended to exploit the opportunity to set Sangkun against my father and provoke endless conflict among the Mongol tribes. That way, his Great Jin kingdom would no longer have to worry about trouble from the north.”

Ouyang Ke had no interest whatsoever in such struggles. But since Cheng Lingsu spoke with such seriousness, he nodded along and added a word of praise.

“To infer three things from one—truly, you are exceedingly clever.”

Reaching up to smooth a strand of hair scattered by the wind, Cheng Lingsu gazed at him with eyes as clear and cold as the Onon River flowing across the steppe.

“You serve Wanyan Honglie, yet you let Guo Jing go back to deliver a warning. Now you have let Tolui leave to summon troops. Are you not afraid of ruining his grand scheme?”

Ouyang Ke laughed. He reached out and lightly touched her chin.

“Afraid? What does his scheme have to do with me? If I can win a smile from a beauty, what would any of that matter?”

Cheng Lingsu did not smile. Instead, she drew her brows together and took half a step back, avoiding the folding fan that had teasingly hooked toward her chin. She reached out, and with a sharp slap, caught its dark, polished tip in her palm.

A wave of icy cold pierced through her skin and struck straight into her bones. She almost released it at once, only then realizing that the ribs of the fan were forged from dark iron, cold as ice.

“What is it? Do you like this fan?” Ouyang Ke appeared to shake his wrist carelessly, knocking her hand aside as he withdrew the fan. With another flick, he snapped it open and waved it lightly before him. “If you have your eye on something else, I would not mind giving it to you. But this fan…” He paused briefly, then suddenly smiled again. “If you truly like it, all you need do is follow me without ever leaving my side. Then you will naturally be able to see it whenever you wish…”

Author’s note:

I say, Young Master Ke, Lingsu only took a fancy to your fan. You cannot even bear to give that away? How stingy!

Ouyang Ke: But that was a gift from my father… Ahem… my uncle.