“Many thanks for your praise, Golden Serpent King.” Tang Sai’er finally regained her usual composure, a coquettish smile returning to her face. “What a pity, though—I still failed to even graze you.”
Song Qingshu shrugged. “What can I say? Blame my unparalleled martial prowess.”
Tang Sai’er stiffened for a moment before forcing a smile. “The Golden Serpent King’s way of speaking is truly… unique.”
Song Qingshu chuckled. “Oh, I’m unique in many ways. Why don’t you come back with me and discover them all?”
Tang Sai’er giggled. “Should I take that as an attempt to capture me?”
Song Qingshu shrugged again. “Since we’ve already clashed with the White Lotus Sect today, why not go all the way? You ‘are’ their saintess, after all. With you in my hands, your sect would think twice before retaliating.” At this stage, the Golden Serpent Camp’s strategy was to lie low and recuperate. A full-blown conflict with the White Lotus Sect would be unwise—even if they won, the losses would outweigh any gains.
“How about this?” Tang Sai’er’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Let’s make a bet.”
“What kind of bet?” Song Qingshu asked curiously.
Tang Sai’er grinned. “In terms of martial arts, I’m no match for the illustrious Golden Serpent King. However, I ‘do’ excel in hidden weapons. If you can withstand one of my projectiles unscathed, I’ll pledge myself to you as your servant, obeying your every command from then on. If not, you must let me and my followers go unharmed.”
“Saintess, you mustn’t!”
“Your status is far too noble to risk for us lowly disciples!”
“Every White Lotus saintess has been pure and chaste—how could you serve this womanizing rogue?”
Song Qingshu’s eyebrow twitched. ‘What nonsense is this? Is my reputation really that bad?’ He shot Tang Sai’er a skeptical glance. With her seductive charm, she looked more like a top courtesan than some paragon of purity.
Tang Sai’er hadn’t expected such a vehement reaction from her subordinates. “Silence!” she snapped. “My decision is final.”
She then turned back to Song Qingshu. “Well, Golden Serpent King? Do you dare take my bet?”
“You seem awfully confident,” Song Qingshu mused. ‘No matter how skilled she is with hidden weapons, injuring me should be near impossible. So where does her certainty come from?’
“What’s wrong? Is the mighty Golden Serpent King afraid of a mere girl?” Tang Sai’er teased.
“A ‘mere girl’?” Song Qingshu’s gaze drifted downward pointedly. “You’re hardly some ‘mere’ girl.”
Tang Sai’er blinked before realizing his implication. Her ears flushed red. “Are you taking the bet or not?”
“Of course I am,” Song Qingshu said, smirking. “But I need to confirm—if you lose, you’ll ‘really’ obey my every command?”
“Naturally,” Tang Sai’er nodded.
“Anything I ask?” Song Qingshu rested his chin on his hand, eyeing her with amusement. The White Lotus disciples erupted in outrage, but he ignored them.
Tang Sai’er’s cheeks reddened, but she nodded again. “Yes.”
“Now I’m getting excited,” Song Qingshu rubbed his hands together. “Go ahead.”
Though his tone was playful, he remained inwardly cautious. Her confidence suggested her hidden weapon would be troublesome.
Tang Sai’er clasped her hands behind her back and began circling Song Qingshu. He frowned slightly but stood his ground, unmoving.
“The Golden Serpent King truly is one of the world’s top masters,” Tang Sai’er suddenly praised. “Even standing casually, you leave no openings.”
“Is that so?” Song Qingshu smiled. “Yet I feel full of openings. Are you stalling?”
“An abundance of openings ‘is’ the absence of openings. Against someone like you, I must ensure my strike lands…” As she spoke, she positioned herself between Song Qingshu and Zhao Min. The moment the word “lands” left her lips, a storm of silver needles erupted from her sleeve—not aimed at Song Qingshu, but at Zhao Min, who stood watching beneath a nearby tree.
“Torrential Pear Blossom Needles!” Song Qingshu’s eyes widened. Realizing her surname was Tang, he recalled the Tang Clan’s legendary hidden weapons. But there was no time to dwell—he lunged toward Zhao Min, extending his hand and unleashing his inner force to halt the needles midair.
Tang Sai’er smirked, flicking three translucent projectiles toward him.
Song Qingshu caught the motion in his periphery. Though wary, dodging would mean losing control of the needles—and Zhao Min’s life.
‘Hmph. No hidden weapon can breach my protective Qi!’ Gritting his teeth, he focused on diverting the storm of needles into the ground. (G: RIP bro.)
By then, the three translucent projectiles were upon him. He reinforced his Qi barrier—though not as impervious as the ‘Indestructible Diamond Body’, it could withstand a full-force strike from one of the Five Supreme Masters with, at worst, a few broken ribs. Surely Tang Sai’er’s weapons couldn’t surpass that.
But as the projectiles struck his barrier, they passed through effortlessly, embedding themselves in his body. A sharp sting flared, followed by an unbearable, creeping numbness.
Song Qingshu’s face darkened.
“Well, Golden Serpent King? How do you like my hidden weapons?” Tang Sai’er laughed.
Zhao Min rushed to his side, panic in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
Song Qingshu, struggling against the numbness, couldn’t answer.
“Don’t bother asking. He’s suffering the agony of ten thousand insects gnawing at his heart,” Tang Sai’er said, impressed. “Most people would be writhing and clawing their skin off by now. Yet the Golden Serpent King stands firm. Admirable!”
“Who is the ‘Tianshan Tonglao’ to you?” Song Qingshu rasped, his voice hoarse with pain.
The others exchanged confused glances, but Tang Sai’er’s expression flickered. “You recognize this weapon?”
“‘Life and Death Talisman’—the only hidden weapon that delivers ‘agony beyond death’,” Song Qingshu ground out. He’d been careless. Against the actual Tianshan Tonglao, he’d have been more cautious. But Tang Sai’er, far weaker, had exploited his concern for Zhao Min to land the strike. And the ‘Life and Death Talisman’ specialized in bypassing inner force defenses.
Hearing the name, Tang Sai’er’s gaze briefly darkened as she glanced at her subordinates, a hint of killing intent flashing before she masked it with another laugh. “The Golden Serpent King is indeed knowledgeable. Honestly, had you not tried to save her, I’d never have hit you.”
Zhao Min looked at Song Qingshu, sighing softly. “I’ve burdened you this time.”
“Feeling guilty? If we survive, why not repay me with your hand in marriage?” Despite his pain, he managed a weak grin.
Zhao Min glared. “Must you joke at a time like this?”
“I’m dead serious,” he said, meeting her gaze steadily.
She faltered, lips parting—until the other White Lotus saintess cut in: “Must you two flirt even on death’s doorstep? It’s revolting.”
Zhao Min squared her shoulders. “We’ll flirt if we want. What’s it to you?”
SLAP!
The crisp sound stunned everyone—even Tang Sai’er. Her fellow saintess was usually as cold as ice, showing no emotion beyond sect affairs. Yet now, she’d struck someone.
A red handprint bloomed on Zhao Min’s fair cheek. Trembling with rage, she hissed, “You ‘dare’ strike me? When the Mongol army crushes your rebellion, you’ll regret this!”
SLAP!
Another blow landed.
Song Qingshu’s voice turned glacial. “You’ll regret those two slaps. I’ll make you repay them tenfold.”