Flower Stealing Master

The Qing army’s camp had finally descended into chaos. With the commander dead and those willing to resist being defeated one by one by Song Qingshu and Yang Miaozhen’s forces, the remaining troops were in a panic, blindly fleeing into the mountains.

In Eagle Valley, while Chu Hongliu was snuggled up with his concubine, fast asleep in his tent, a frantic subordinate burst in, shouting, “Bad news, boss, bad news!”

“Ah!” The concubine, half-exposed from the blanket, instinctively screamed when a man barged in.

Chu Hongliu, irate at the sight of his woman being exposed, glared at the newcomer and snapped, “What’s wrong?”

“Out… outside…” The subordinate pointed outside the tent, evidently too nervous to complete a sentence.

“What’s happening outside?” Chu Hongliu could vaguely hear the commotion outside, and his heart skipped a beat.

“The Qing army, they’re everywhere!” The subordinate finally managed to explain, taking a deep breath.

“What!” Chu Hongliu’s spine went cold. He had no intention of questioning the intrusion, grabbing the subordinate by the collar, “Aren’t the Qing troops stationed at Fox Hill? How did they end up here?”

“The Qing troops at Fox Hill were defeated and are fleeing this way,” the subordinate hurriedly explained.

How could Song Qingshu really achieve victory over thirty thousand with only eight thousand?

As the sounds of battle grew louder, Chu Hongliu came to his senses and rushed outside the tent. He saw the fleeing Qing troops pouring in like a torrent from Fox Hill, instantly freezing in shock.

The fleeing Qing soldiers, upon seeing someone blocking their escape route, turned red with anger.

“Damn it, let’s fight to the death!”

“Killing one isn’t a loss, killing two is a gain!”

Chu Hongliu had never truly believed the Qing troops would be defeated. He only pretended to be active here to have an excuse later. With the leader holding such an attitude, the soldiers under him were even less concerned. Chu Hongliu’s thousands of troops, caught off guard, were quickly scattered by the Qing army.

“My soldiers!” Watching the disastrous scene, Chu Hongliu’s heart bled. Having mingled with the soldiers for years, he understood better than anyone that in such chaotic times, soldiers were the real asset. Seeing his own asset turn to dust in an instant was unbearable.

“Boss, we need to leave quickly; it’ll be too late if we don’t!” Nearby subordinates surrounded him, urging him to flee.

Without power and faced with his bet with Song Qingshu, Chu Hongliu, despite being a local warlord, knew what awaited him. To avoid further humiliation, he impulsively drew his sword, intending to take his own life. 

However, when his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of his concubine’s pitiful look, he instinctively thought about how his concubine hadn’t finished sleeping and who might take her after his death…

In an instant, his courage evaporated. Chu Hongliu sheathed his sword and, with a few trusted subordinates, fled in a panic, clinging to a glimmer of hope: as a veteran of the Golden Serpent Camp, he thought, he couldn’t be treated so poorly by Song Qingshu.

Chu Hongliu’s troops numbered in the thousands and had the advantage of terrain. After the Qing army broke through Eagle Valley’s defenses, their own losses were severe. Chu Hongliu’s troops, however, fared even worse, nearly annihilated.

As the Eight Banners soldiers successfully broke through and finally caught their breath, they encountered ambushes from the Heaven and Earth Society in the forest ahead.

The Eight Banners soldiers, prepared to fight through gritted teeth, were stunned to find that the ambushers were not attacking them but simply blocking one route while leaving another open.

Though it was obvious that the open route was a trap, the fleeing soldiers, desperate like drowning men clutching at a straw, paid no heed. With pursuing enemies hot on their heels, they rushed through the deliberately left gap.

This is often how people act: when they face certain death, they find the courage to fight desperately. Yet, once they see a sliver of hope, they no longer wish to fight, and their courage vanishes in an instant.

This explains why the Qing troops fought fiercely when they encountered Chu Hongliu’s army but avoided the Heaven and Earth Society’s ambushes—they were blocked by Chu Hongliu’s forces but given a route by the Heaven and Earth Society.

As the Qing army fled, ambushes from the Mu Wangfu, Qingzhu, Xia Qingqing’s forces, and the Emei Sect appeared one after another, each blocking one route and leaving another open. The Qing army was forced to continually change routes, eventually arriving at a nearly dry riverbed.

“Why is there so little water in this river?” Some of the fleeing soldiers wondered.

“Damn, why are we even talking? The dry riverbed is perfect for our escape; it’s like heaven’s help!” Most, however, were too relieved to notice and eagerly rushed across to the other side.

As more and more soldiers crowded the riverbed, a thunderous roar came from upstream. In the despairing eyes of the Qing troops, a towering wave surged toward them…

Watching the Eight Banners soldiers jump into the river and being swept away by the flood from the nearby mountain top, Huang Rong, despite her lingering discomfort with Song Qingshu, couldn’t help but be curious. She approached Song Qingshu and asked softly:

“If these fleeing troops had formed a defensive position by the river, with our strength, the outcome might be uncertain. Why were you so sure they would choose to jump into the river rather than resist?”

“Throughout history, many commanders have chosen to fight with their backs to the water, but only Han Xin and Xiang Yu succeeded. Do you know why, Madam?” Song Qingshu said calmly.

Perhaps shocked by this exaggerated victory, Huang Rong felt that Song Qingshu seemed to carry an air of mystery: “Please, enlighten me.”

Song Qingshu, no longer as humble as usual, spoke in a steady tone: “First, their main general is neither Han Xin nor Xiang Yu. Second, most soldiers tend to have a streak of luck, believing that despite the peril, they might be the lucky ones.”

With that, Song Qingshu turned and walked away, no longer paying attention to the battlefield.

In this battle, the Qing army, numbering thirty thousand, was annihilated.

The next day, the Qing West Road Army’s commander, Fei Yanggu, looked at a disheveled figure not far away and fell into deep thought.

He recognized this person as a trusted aide of Tu Hai, though he couldn’t remember if his name was Mu Ha Da or Mu Liqi. As a general, he didn’t make it a point to remember the names of small personal guards.

“So you’re saying the Eastern Army has been surrounded, and Tu Hai specifically sent you for help?” Fei Yanggu asked with a faint smile.

Song Qingshu—currently posing as Mu Ha Da—nodded and said, “Yes, I hope General will act quickly to rescue our Commander Tu.”

Fei Yanggu’s expression suddenly changed, and he slammed the table: “Come here! Drag this spy out and execute him!”

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