Chapter 62: Pleading for Mercy (Part One)

Ouyang Ke’s eyes lit up, his mind trembling with excitement. He paid no further heed to Tolui, and with a languid smile said, “What sort of man is Young Master Ouyang? Once I give my word, how could I ever go back on it? However, while he may leave, Lady Hua Zhen, you must remain…”

“Very well.”

Cheng Lingsu had anticipated that he would not let matters rest so easily. In fact, she preferred it this way—she could attempt to deal with Ouyang Ke alone and look for a chance to escape. With Tolui present, she would only be more constrained by concerns for his safety. Without letting him say anything further, she cut him off and agreed.

Ouyang Ke had not expected her to acquiesce so quickly. He laughed aloud, “That’s much better. With a meddlesome distraction gone, we can finally have a proper conversation.”

Cheng Lingsu ignored him, turning her back to retrieve a kerchief adorned with blue flowers from her bosom. She shook it lightly in the air, then tied it around the torn gash on Tolui’s palm, returning the two blue blossoms to her breast. She briefly explained the situation to Tolui and urged him to return at once.

Tolui’s face was ashen. He took two steps back, then suddenly pulled up the single saber stuck by his foot. Without taking his eyes off Ouyang Ke, he brought the blade down hard through the empty air before him. “Your martial skill surpasses mine; I am not your match. But today, in the name of the Khan Temujin’s son, I swear to the Sky God of the steppe: once I have destroyed those who plotted against my father, I will challenge you to a duel! I will avenge my sister and show you what a true hero of the steppe is!”

As the son of a Mongol chieftain, Tolui treated others with humility and loyalty, unlike the haughty Doshi; yet his pride was no less than Doshi’s. He was Temujin’s favored son and deeply understood his father’s ambition—to turn every land beneath the sky into Mongol pasture! For this goal, he had trained with the army since childhood, never slacking a day. Who could have foreseen that despite years of hardship, he would fall into enemy hands, unable even to return safely with the sister who had come to rescue him?

Tolui knew that Cheng Lingsu was right; Temujin’s safety must come first. He ought to hurry back and muster troops to support his ambushed father. Yet the shame of leaving his sister in this man’s hands suffocated him, almost to the point of breathlessness.

Mongols valued their word above all, especially an oath sworn to the Sky God revered by all the steppe. Tolui, knowing full well he was no match, nonetheless made his vow with solemn resolve. Though not a master of martial arts, years spent in the barracks had given him the same kingly aura as Temujin—commanding and fierce. Even Ouyang Ke, who did not understand every word, felt a chill at his presence.

Cheng Lingsu’s heart warmed. The blood that marked her as Temujin’s daughter seemed to sense Tolui’s unwillingness and resolve, surging within her and making her eyes grow misty. Without betraying her feelings, she sidled in the direction from which Ouyang Ke might strike and whispered, “Go, quickly. Hurry back—I have ways to escape.”

Tolui nodded, stepped forward, and embraced her with open arms. Without a backward glance at Ouyang Ke, he turned and ran toward the camp gate.

On the way, several guards tried to block his escape. Tolui felled them all with swift strokes of his saber.

Only after seeing Tolui seize a horse at the edge of the camp and ride away did Cheng Lingsu finally relax, letting out a soft sigh.

In her previous life, her master, the King of Venomous Hands, practiced poison as medicine and healed the sick, yet firmly believed in karma and retribution. In his old age, he converted to Buddhism to cultivate his mind, finally reaching a state of equanimity. Cheng Lingsu, his youngest disciple, was profoundly influenced by him. Now, having died and been reborn in this era, she could not help but believe that fate had other designs.

She had not intended to become entangled with the people and affairs of this world. She had even thought to seize the first opportunity to flee far away, perhaps to return to the banks of Dongting Lake and see what Baima Temple looked like centuries later. She could have opened a small clinic, healing the sick and living out her days in longing for the one she loved from her past life. Yet, if Temujin were to fall, the Mongol tribe she had lived with for ten years would also be in peril. The mother and brothers who had cared for and raised her, and all the clansmen she had come to know day by day, would suffer as well. After ten years among them, how could she stand by and do nothing?

At this thought, Cheng Lingsu sighed softly again.

Seeing Cheng Lingsu lost in thought, gazing after Tolui’s departing figure and sighing repeatedly, Ouyang Ke raised his chin and sneered, “What, is it so hard to part with him?”

Hearing the implication in his words, Cheng Lingsu frowned and replied without thinking, “Of course I’m worried for my brother. Isn’t that only natural?”

“Oh? He’s your brother?” Ouyang Ke arched an eyebrow, a flicker of delight in his eyes. “Then… that young man from before, is he your beloved?”

“What nonsense are you—” Cheng Lingsu stopped short, realizing his meaning. “You mean Guo Jing? You were here before… you knew as soon as we arrived?”

“It wasn’t you all—it was you. The moment you came, I knew.” Ouyang Ke sounded quite pleased, obviously enjoying her reaction.

Though Cheng Lingsu had dismounted far in advance, his profound inner strength gave him hearing far superior to any ordinary Mongol soldier. Almost as soon as she had infiltrated the camp, he had detected her presence and was about to reveal himself, but then saw Ma Yu intervene and spirit both her and Guo Jing away.

Years ago, his uncle Ouyang Feng had suffered a great defeat at the hands of the Quanzhen Sect. Ever since, the practitioners of Western Venom bore a deep-seated resentment and wariness toward Quanzhen’s Taoist priests. Ouyang Ke recognized Ma Yu’s Taoist robes and, recalling his uncle’s warnings, decided not to reveal himself. Instead, he watched from the shadows as they conversed.

He had expected Cheng Lingsu to persuade Ma Yu to storm the camp with her to rescue Tolui. He did not know that Ma Yu was the head of the Quanzhen Sect; he thought that, apart from the tens of thousands of soldiers in the camp, there were enough martial experts with Wanyan Honglie to keep Ma Yu occupied. Perhaps, he mused, Ma Yu might even be killed, removing a powerful guardian of the Quanzhen Sect. But to his surprise, the Taoist did not storm the camp at all; instead, he left with Guo Jing, leaving Cheng Lingsu alone.

By now, Cheng Lingsu had pieced things together. “Wanyan Honglie’s secret arrival here must be to sow discord between Sangkun and my father, to set the Mongol tribes warring amongst themselves. Only then will the Jin dynasty be free of threats from the north.”

Ouyang Ke had no interest in such power struggles, but seeing Cheng Lingsu so earnest, he nodded and praised her, “So quick to grasp the truth—truly clever.”

Brushing aside a strand of hair blown loose by the wind, Cheng Lingsu’s gaze was as clear as the Onon River on the steppe. “You serve Wanyan Honglie, yet you let Guo Jing go to deliver warning, and now you let Tolui go to muster troops. Aren’t you afraid of ruining his plans?”

Ouyang Ke chuckled, reaching out to lift her chin, “Afraid? What do his schemes have to do with me? If I can win a beauty’s smile, what else matters?”

Cheng Lingsu did not smile. Instead, her brows knit as she took a half step back, deftly dodging the folding fan he flirtatiously aimed at her chin. She reached out, and with a crisp “pop,” caught the black iron tip of his fan in her palm. A chill shot through her hand, so cold it nearly made her let go. Only then did she realize that the fan’s ribs were forged from black iron, icy as frost.

“What’s this? Do you like this fan?” Ouyang Ke feigned nonchalance, flicked his wrist to free his fan from her grip, and snapped it open with a flourish before him. “If you like something else, I’d give it to you, but this fan…” He paused, then laughed softly, “If you really want it, just stay by my side always, and you’ll see it whenever you wish…”

Author’s note: Oh, Ouyang Ke, she just likes your fan—must you be so stingy?

Ouyang Ke: But that fan was from my… ahem… my uncle…