Chapter 885: Imprisonment - Flower Stealing Master - NovelsTime

Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 885: Imprisonment

Author: Monk Of The Six Illusions
updatedAt: 2025-09-01

Inside Prince Xu’s residence, Wanyan Yong glared furiously at his subordinates kneeling on the ground. “What are you all good for? A living person vanished into thin air, and none of you noticed a thing?”

“Your Highness, Miss Zhao preferred solitude and forbade us from approaching her courtyard. That’s why we were slow to react,” one of the men replied, bracing himself.

“How dare you make excuses!” Wanyan Yong swept the tea set off the table in a rage. “Summon the guards responsible for her safety at once!”

“Your Highness, they… they were all killed by a mysterious assailant not long ago,” the subordinate answered, cold sweat dripping down his back.

“What?!” Wanyan Yong shot to his feet, his mind in turmoil. ‘Who is targeting me? The Emperor? Prince Changsheng? Or Prince Hailing?’

*****

Meanwhile, in the former Grand Preceptor’s residence, Pucha Alihu stared anxiously at the door. When her daughter finally returned, she nearly collapsed in relief. “You said you had something to take care of on the way back, then stormed off with a dark expression. I was afraid you’d gone to settle scores with Song Qingshu! My dear, listen to your mother—that devil is ruthless. We can’t afford to provoke him.”

“’He’s’ ruthless?” Wanyan Chongjie rolled her eyes. “If he were truly ruthless, he wouldn’t have needed me to clean up his mess.”

Pucha Alihu flushed. “What kind of talk is that for a young lady? ‘Clean up his mess’—how vulgar!”

Wanyan Chongjie explained, “Today, we were caught by Prince Xu’s men and taken to that Zhao woman’s courtyard. If I hadn’t silenced those witnesses, Prince Xu would’ve come after us once he discovered her disappearance. I wasn’t about to bring disaster on myself, so I killed every last one of them.”

She scoffed. “And to think I once idolized him. Turns out he’s just a soft-hearted fool.”

Pucha Alihu frowned. “Why are you defending him? Don’t you resent him for forcing us to take that poison?” The thought of the three dormant corpse worms inside her body sent a chill down her spine.

“Why should I? The poison won’t activate for a year, and he’ll give us the antidote by then. If I were in his place, I’d have been ten times crueler,” Wanyan Chongjie replied matter-of-factly.

“Then why were you so furious earlier?” Pucha Alihu was stunned by her daughter’s cheerful demeanor.

“It was all an act. If I’d taken the poison willingly, he might’ve suspected us and used other methods to control us.” Wanyan Chongjie smirked. “Besides, by playing the victim, I made him feel guilty. He’ll compensate us without even realizing it.”

“And you’re so sure he’ll give us the antidote?” After years of suffering in darkness, Pucha Alihu trusted no man.

“Relax. He’s the type who seems ruthless on the surface but is actually softhearted deep down.” Having spent years navigating the capital’s spoiled elite, Wanyan Chongjie had mastered the art of reading men. Remembering the genuine smile on Gebi’s face whenever she saw Song Qingshu, she grew even more confident.

***** 

When Zhao Min awoke, she found herself lying on a bed. Panicked, she immediately checked her clothes and sighed in relief upon finding them undisturbed.

Only then did she take in her surroundings—a dimly lit underground chamber. Spotting a sloping staircase leading upward, she wondered, ‘Where does that lead?’  

“You’re awake?” A man’s voice startled her. Turning, she saw a figure seated in the shadows, his face eerily illuminated by the faint light.

“Tang Kuo Bian! It’s you!” Zhao Min’s voice was a mix of shock and fury.

“Indeed, it’s me.” Song Qingshu rose and approached the bed. “Miss Zhao, I suppose you didn’t expect the tables to turn so quickly.”

Zhao Min snorted, ignoring his taunt. “Is this the Grand Preceptor’s residence or the Consort’s residence?” She remembered being taken to the Grand Preceptor’s residence before losing consciousness, but with that wretched girl nowhere in sight, she suspected the latter.

“No harm in telling you. You’re in the Consort’s residence.” Song Qingshu pointed upward. “Above us is my wife’s and my bedchamber.”

By now, Zhao Min had regained her composure. “How long do you intend to keep me here?”

Song Qingshu smiled. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

“If you wanted me dead, I’d already be. Since I’m alive, I must be more valuable to you this way.” Her tone was icy.

“You truly are remarkable, Miss Zhao. Even in such a situation, you remain unshaken.” His admiration was genuine.

Ignoring his praise, she repeated, “How long will you keep me here? Or what will it take for you to release me?”

“No need to worry. I won’t harm you. But I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. I’ll let you know once I have.” Song Qingshu spoke honestly. Zhao Min was a hot potato—he couldn’t release her, as she knew Tang Kuo Bian and Wanyan Chongjie’s secrets, nor could he bring himself to kill her given their past. For now, imprisonment was the only option.

Pondering his words, Zhao Min fell silent before suddenly asking, “According to my intelligence, Tang Kuo Bian wasn’t this skilled in martial arts. Who are you really?”

Song Qingshu’s heart skipped a beat, but having faced Wanyan Chongjie’s interrogation earlier, he remained calm. “Everyone has their secrets. Why would I announce my martial prowess to the world?”

“Is that so?” She studied him skeptically.

Rising, Song Qingshu said, “Rest well, Miss Zhao. I’ll take my leave.”

But Zhao Min shook her head. “I’m not the type to be caged. If I’m to remain a prisoner, I’d rather end my life.” Without hesitation, she raised her palm to strike her own forehead.

Song Qingshu’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to act so decisively. Though he suspected a bluff, he couldn’t take the risk. In a flash, he appeared before her, gripping her wrist.

A faint smile played on Zhao Min’s lips. Suddenly, the blanket covering her flew up, blocking his vision as she struck several acupoints on his chest through the fabric.

“Have you forgotten so soon, Miss Zhao? Pressure points don’t work on me.” His voice from behind the blanket froze her smile in place.

Pulling the blanket away, Song Qingshu smirked. “With your cunning, perhaps the only way to keep you docile is to strip you bare before locking you up.”

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