"Uncle seems to be incredibly secretive about every martial arts family," Madam Hu stated, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
A faint smile played on Song Qingshu's lips as he replied, "In the martial world, there is a nickname for me, 'Jianghu Baixiaosheng.' But please take it as a jest, sister-in-law, and don't read too much into it."
Just then, a sweet and melodious voice interrupted their conversation, sending shivers down their spines. Both Song Qingshu and Madam Hu turned their heads in surprise, their gaze falling upon a young girl dressed in a delicate green shirt. She appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen years old, with hands as delicate as porcelain and skin as smooth as jade. Her gentle face and slender figure exuded an indescribable charm.
Song Qingshu couldn't help but notice that while she might not possess the same captivating beauty as Madam Hu, her aura of gentleness was enchanting in its own right. Observing her in the green attire, a thought flashed through his mind. "What if I were to reveal the origin of your name?"
Pursing her lips, the girl shook her head and replied skeptically, "I don't believe you."
"I won't ask for anything else if I'm right. All I request is for you to guide us to Yanziwu," Song Qingshu declared, his determination growing in the face of the girl's skepticism. "I've heard tales of two immortals residing in Gusu. One, a beauty like no other, known as Azhu, and the other, nurtured by the grace of Jiangnan, possessing the gentleness of water—Abi. Such rare qualities indeed."
Abi blushed at his praise, her voice shyly murmuring, "You only learned that because you met Miss Wang."
Song Qingshu maintained his smile, his silence speaking volumes. Sensing his conviction, Abi raised her head and inquired, "May I ask what purpose brings you to Yanziwu?"
"My sister-in-law and I hold no ill intentions on this journey. However, we have an important matter to discuss with Mr. Murong, and I hope that Miss Abi can assist us," Song Qingshu explained, earning a nod of agreement from Madam Hu.
Upon witnessing the distinguished and captivating presence of the pair, Abi couldn't help but feel that they were not the typical villains she encountered. A sweet smile graced her lips as she said, "Fortuitously, my father is at home today. Please come with me."
Ms. Hu concealed her delight, a secret smile playing in her heart. This man, her uncle, was undeniably handsome, but his silver tongue and ability to charm women were equally impressive. The naïveté of this young girl was evident; she had yet to experience the complexities of the world.
Abi untied the rope at the side and extended an invitation for the two to board the boat. However, Madam Hu's smile abruptly vanished. Having grown up in the unforgiving embrace of ice and snow, she possessed no familiarity with bodies of water. A nameless fear gripped her as she gazed upon the lake.
"Sister-in-law, please be careful," Song Qingshu exclaimed, noticing her trembling. He rushed to her aid, assisting her onto the boat. Throughout the journey, Madam Hu's forehead glistened with perspiration, her heart overwhelmed by discomfort and queasiness. She remained oblivious to the fact that she didn't even clasp her arms around herself for support.
On the other hand, Abi regarded the pair with confusion. She couldn't help but ponder the peculiarity of Song Gongzi addressing Madam Hu as his sister-in-law, yet witnessing their intimate embrace made her question her initial assessment. However, Abi's cautious nature suppressed her doubts, allowing them to simmer within.
Upon reaching the shore, Hu Fu realized his proximity to Song Qingshu and swiftly freed himself from his grasp, making a beeline for land. Song Qingshu offered a wry smile and disembarked alongside Abi.
"In the presence of Young Master Murong, I, Song Qingshu, and Madam Hu, have arrived," Abi announced as they entered and passed through the gate. Murong Fu greeted them in the grand hall.
"Is this Song Shaoxia, the esteemed leader of Wudang and Emei? And could it be that Madam Hu is the widow of the heroic Hu Yidao from Liaodong?" Murong Fu, the exceedingly handsome figure, stared at them momentarily, his surprise evident.
"As expected, he is Murong's son. His knowledge of the world and ability to discern our origins with a single glance is truly remarkable," Song Qingshu and Madam Hu exchanged glances, realizing that the renowned Murong family from Gusu was not without reason for their reputation.
"I am curious to know the purpose of your visit today," Murong Fu, wholly dedicated to his grand endeavor of rebuilding the nation, often displayed enthusiasm in meeting people from all walks of life, fostering friendships along the way.
"That is precisely why we are here," Madam Hu slowed her pace, narrating the tale of Murong Jingyue to him.
"Murong Jingyue?" Murong Fu's expression morphed into one of horror. He had never heard of this collateral relative before. "Examine the genealogy thoroughly. There might be valuable information to be found," Murong contemplated, his thoughts drifting towards someone—Ding Xiaoshao. Perhaps there would be an additional ally at his disposal.
Observing the smile on Murong Fu's face, Song Qingshu deduced his intentions and swiftly interjected, "Mr. Murong, I beg your pardon for my forwardness. The martial prowess of Murong Jingyue appears to surpass that of any young man. Moreover, his skill in administering deadly poison is unparalleled. If he were to gain control over Shenhezhuang, as his concubine, I fear there would be no place for the legitimate offspring of your family."
A trace of disapproval flickered in Murong Fu's heart. He mused that had Murong Jingyue possessed greater martial skill than himself, he would have eliminated him long ago. How could he have allowed him to wander the martial world, ostensibly seeking enlightenment? However, realization dawned upon him—was it not his deceased father, the imposter, that Murong Jingyue truly desired? These thoughts gradually etched a solemn expression on Murong Fu's face.
"I wonder if we can be of assistance, Young Master Murong. After all, Murong Jingyue is likely the culprit behind the poisoning incident in the past," Madam Hu bowed, beseeching the aid of the Murong family. She had come seeking help, not to be left to her own devices.
"Madam Hu, I implore you not to apologize," Murong Fu extended a reassuring hand. "You have shared such crucial information with me. I am deeply grateful and would never dare to impose upon you. If the reputation of the Murong family were to remain tarnished... it would be a subject of ridicule throughout the world. Madam Hu, rest assured, once we capture Murong Jingyue, I will personally send for you."
Madam Hu was caught in a dilemma. While she understood the martial arts code that forbade interference in others' affairs, she couldn't simply let Murong Fu go. The weight of her decision pressed upon her, rendering her momentarily speechless.
"If Madam Hu finds it agreeable, she may stay in Yanziwu for a while. Once we apprehend Murong Jingyue, you can investigate what transpired with Daxia Hu in the past. How does that sound?" Murong Fu, with a hint of uncertainty, proposed the idea. Rumors had circulated in the martial world that Hu Yidao guarded a significant treasure, but he remained unsure of its authenticity. Now that Hu's wife had appeared, he saw an opportunity to seize the treasure, lurking somewhere within.
Madam Hu's emotions were stirred, yet she couldn't shake her concerns as a widow. The thought of residing in unfamiliar territory unsettled her.
Casting a subtle glance at Song Qingshu by her side, an idea took root in her mind. She smiled at Murong Fu and replied, "I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Murong. It would be more appropriate for me to stay as a respected guest rather than a concubine. However, I must confess that our visit today was not solely for social purposes. My brother suffered severe injuries, with his meridians severed. Seeking guidance from the esteemed Medicine King, I have heard of the enigmatic art of Dou Zhuan Xing Yi practiced by Gusu Murong Dou. I wonder if he could treat my brother's damaged meridians?"
Murong Fu's brow furrowed involuntarily. Dou Zhuan Xing Yi was the Murong family's prized secret, not readily shared with outsiders. Yet, his mind wandered to the rumored treasure guarded by Hu Yidao. If he could acquire it, he might possess the means to recruit a formidable army and achieve what his ancestors failed to accomplish. A flicker of excitement ignited within him.
"Young Master Song, could you allow me to examine your pulse?" Murong Fu turned his gaze to Song Qingshu, his gesture indicating his request.
Song Qingshu handed out his hand anxiously. While he sympathized with Murong Fu's plight, he had always held a disdain for his capabilities. Placing his own fate in Murong Fu's hands seemed inherently unreliable.