Zhao Min shrank back in alarm, her face a mix of fury and humiliation. “How dare you disrespect me! I’ll have you torn to pieces!”
“Trying to scare me?” Song Qingshu smirked, studying her leisurely. “And why wouldn’t I dare? You should understand your situation, Miss Zhao. You’re my prisoner now. I can do whatever I please, and you have no power to resist.”
After her initial panic, Zhao Min quickly regained her composure. “Tang Kuo Bian, do you even know who I am?”
“Oh? Are you about to tell me you’re a celestial maiden descended to observe mortal affairs?” Song Qingshu feigned ignorance. Of course, he knew her identity, but since Tang Kuo Bian shouldn’t, he played dumb.
“I am Shaomin, Princess of the Ruyang Prince’s Palace in the Mongol Empire. If you dare lay a hand on me, not even your measly status as a consort—nor your entire Jin Dynasty—will survive the wrath of the Great Mongol Empire. When their armies march in, demanding your head, what do you think your fate will be? Oh, and your beautiful wife? She’ll suffer ten, a hundred times the humiliation. Is that what you want?” Her tone shifted. “Of course, if you release me, I can pretend this never happened. I can even use my influence to secure you a position at the heart of the Jin court’s power. How about Minister of the Imperial Secretariat? What do you say?”
“Oh, I’m sooo scared~” Song Qingshu pulled the classic mocking expression from his past life’s TV shows, then dropped the act. “But all that hinges on one thing—the Mongols knowing you’re in my hands. Unfortunately for you, no one knows you’re here.”
Zhao Min snorted. “Nothing stays hidden forever. Our intelligence network will uncover the truth sooner or later.”
Song Qingshu shook his head. “A fair point, but still not convincing. Think harder, or I’ll start undressing you.” He rubbed his hands together with a villainous grin, inwardly impressed by his own acting. If this were his past life’s screen, he’d probably become the new childhood nightmare—joining the ranks of ‘Huanzhu Gege’’s Rong Momo, ‘Don’t Talk to Strangers’’ Feng Yuanzheng, and ‘The Return of the Condor Heroes’’ Yin Zhiping.
Zhao Min finally panicked. Faced with someone utterly shameless, her usual wit failed her. “S-Stop! Don’t come any closer…”
“Go on, scream. No one will save you.” His grin widened as he yanked at her clothes. A sharp ‘rip’ echoed, and half her outer robe tore away.
“Ah!” Zhao Min shrieked, crossing her arms over her exposed undergarments. “You b*stard!”
“Flattery won’t help.” Song Qingshu sniffed the torn fabric with exaggerated relish. “Mmm, fragrant.” Internally, he cringed—he’d only meant to scare her, but he was getting way too into character.
“Disgusting!” Trembling with rage, Zhao Min spat, “If you touch me, my man will destroy you!”
“Oh?” Song Qingshu paused, intrigued. “And who might that be?”
Zhang Wuji flashed in her mind first—their past love had been unforgettable. But now, his body housed the soul of the Ming Cult’s demonic king, and she refused to name him. Then another name surfaced, and she blurted, “The Golden Serpent King, Song Song Qingshu!”
Song Qingshu froze. ‘Did she just say… me?’
Noticing his reaction, Zhao Min seized the chance. “My man commands supernatural powers, controls wind and rain. Alone, he crushed the Qing Dynasty’s army of 100,000. He’s a peerless master who triumphed at the Golden Serpent Tournament, slaughtered his way into the Forbidden City, and left the Kangxi Emperor trembling. Do you really think your pathetic consort’s mansion is more formidable than the Qing’s imperial palace?”
Song Qingshu rubbed his nose, equal parts embarrassed and weirdly flattered by the over-the-top praise.
Since he’d only intended to intimidate her, he decided to play along. With exaggerated solemnity, he clasped his hands. “What?! You’re the Golden Serpent King’s woman? The mighty, divine, omnipotent, eternally blessed, heaven-defying Golden Serpent King?! How could this lowly one dare offend his esteemed lady? A thousand apologies, Princess Zhao!”
Zhao Min gaped. ‘The Mongol Empire has crushed countless nations, commands countless experts and millions of soldiers… yet this man fears Song Song Qingshu more?’
“Ahem!” Noticing her stunned expression, Song Qingshu toned it down. “If you truly are Master Song’s woman, of course I wouldn’t dare harm you. Though, given his dashing charm, his unrivaled charisma—enough to make flowers bloom and maidens swoon—I’ll need to verify your claim. If confirmed, I’ll personally escort you back with the grandest carriage and humbly beg forgiveness. Until then, please stay put and don’t make things difficult for me.”
Dazed, Zhao Min nodded blankly as he left.
Song Qingshu wiped his brow in relief. ‘Mission accomplished—keep her in line without crushing her hope.’
Meanwhile, Zhao Min’s thoughts raced. ‘Song Qingshu is clever. If he hears someone’s asking about us, he’ll play along and rescue me. But… ugh, he’ll know I’ve been using his name like this. So embarrassing…’
Then it hit her. ‘Wait—why would a Jin Dynasty consort fear Song Song Qingshu, of all people? And how could he ‘verify’ our relationship?’ Replaying the scene, her face twisted with realization. ‘That b*stard!’
“Song Qingshu, you absolute scoundrel!” she hissed through gritted teeth.
*****
Hearing Song Qingshu emerge from the secret chamber, Gebi drowsily sat up, the blanket slipping to reveal a bare shoulder. “All settled with Princess Zhao?”
“Mhm.” Song Qingshu nodded, recalling Zhao Min’s flustered state when her robe tore. Heat pooled in his abdomen, and he swiftly slid under the covers, making Gebi gasp.
“You—do you really treat me as your wife now…?” Amidst rustling silk, her voice wavered between exasperation and shyness.