Reborn Song Qingshu: Besieging Bright Peak at the Start

Yang Xiao took in all the commotion beside the donkey cart.

He was chatting idly with Zhou Dian, but his eyes never left his daughter.

He watched as this little bastard surnamed Song first took Yin Liting's pulse, then took the opportunity to sit down on the carriage shaft, and told some ridiculous story that made his daughter's eyes fill with tears. Then, he naturally patted her shoulder and wiped away her tears, his actions as natural as if he had done it a thousand times.

Yang Xiao gritted his teeth.

Over the past few days, he has watched these two people go from being "strangers who had met a few times" to "close siblings who could talk about anything."

His daughter, Bu Hui, was as innocent as a blank sheet of paper. She was amused by this boy's few words and laughed and cried at the same time, calling him "Brother Qing Shu" affectionately.

Others might not know what kind of person this kid is, but surely Yang Xiao does?

Back in the day, he and Fan Yao were known as the "Two Immortals of Freedom," and countless women in the martial arts world were captivated by him. He had seen it all.

He was confident in his skills in love; otherwise, how could Ji Xiaofu, a member of a prestigious and righteous sect, have defied her master's teachings and been with him, a member of the Ming Cult?

So he could tell at a glance that Song Qingshu was on the same level as him, or even surpassed him.

Look how skillfully he flirted with the girl dressed as a man under the willow tree. In no time, he made her blush, and then he chased after her and asked, "May I wear women's clothes next time we meet?"

This level of skill is something even Yang Xiao himself would have been ashamed of back then.

How could his family possibly be a match for such a person?

The leader was unusually close to this Senior Brother Song, obeying his every word and addressing him as "Senior Brother" more affectionately than anyone else whenever they met.

Moreover, Song Qingshu has indeed done great favors for the Ming Cult. He protected the leader with his sword on Bright Peak and strongly recommended the leader in the main hall. All of these deeds are evident to all.

No matter how unhappy Yang Xiao was, he couldn't say a word.

Poor Left Envoy of Light, these days he can only vent his anger on the horse he's riding.

Whenever Song Qingshu was with his daughter, he would occasionally tug hard at the horse's mane with his fingers.

The horse was being pulled so hard that a patch of mane was almost bald, and it neighed in pain every now and then, but it couldn't shake off its master's superb riding skills.

Before long, clumps of horsehair floated on the ground.

Zhou Dian rode alongside him on horseback, witnessing his entire display of shrewdness and gritted teeth.

He always enjoyed teasing Yang Xiao, and now he couldn't contain himself any longer, his face crinkling into a wide grin.

"Hey, Left Envoy Yang, you've been gritting your teeth and squinting lately. Is it some kind of aftereffect from the battle at Bright Peak?"

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If you ask me, you need to get treatment for your illness. Don't bottle it up. The old bat said your face looks even more ghostly than his. If you keep going like this, your title of "Two Immortals of Leisure" might have to be changed to "One Ghost of Leisure".

Besides, why are you bullying Ma Qian for no reason? The horse hasn't done anything to you.

Yang Xiao was already furious, and when he heard Zhou Dian fanning the flames, he couldn't hold back any longer.

He turned his head and looked coldly at Zhou Dian, spitting out five words through gritted teeth: "None of your business!"

Zhou Dian flew into a rage, his face turning a deep purplish-red:

"You son of a bitch, want to have another go? We didn't settle things at Bright Summit last time, today's the perfect opportunity, come on! Who's afraid of who's a coward!"

Yang Xiao sized him up, a look of utter disdain playing on his lips:

"You? You think you're my match? I'd rather have all five of you gang up on me."

Zhou Dian was so angry that he nearly jumped off his horse.

His eyes widened, his finger trembling as he pointed at Yang Xiao, about to utter even more offensive words.

Seeing the situation was turning sour, Peng Yingyu quickly spurred her horse and stepped between the two, trying to smooth things over with a smile:

"Amitabha, Brother Zhou, you knew perfectly well that Left Envoy Yang was trying to provoke you, yet you fell for his trap. He's just looking for someone to vent his anger on, and you've just handed yourself over to him as a punching bag!"

Upon hearing Peng Yingyu's words, Zhou Dian's eyes darted around, and the anger on his face suddenly dissipated.

He proudly raised his chin at Yang Xiao, striking a magnanimous pose:

"Hmph, I won't fall for your provocation. What can you do about it? Hey~ The leader said that brothers in the sect should be united, friendly, and help each other. You want to provoke me into making a move? I just won't."

After speaking, he looked around and raised his voice to the assembled heroes:

"Everyone heard that. It's not that I, Zhou Dian, am afraid of Yang Xiao. It's just that I, Old Zhou, have always strictly followed the rules of the sect and set an example. The sect leader said to unite and be friendly, so I unite and be friendly. I even tolerated his cursing."

The group of heroes burst into laughter at his comical antics.

He couldn't help but shake his head and sigh:

"Old Zhou, your mouth could stop 100,000 arrows on the battlefield."

The atmosphere became increasingly harmonious.

Yang Xiao snorted, too lazy to pay any more attention to Zhou Dian, but his melancholy gaze involuntarily drifted towards the donkey cart again—

Song Qingshu was handing Yang Buhui a water pouch. The two of them were talking about something interesting. They had been crying just a moment ago, but now they were laughing with their eyes crinkling.

Yang Xiao tugged at the horse's mane again, and the horse snorted in grievance.

……

……

That evening, the heroes passed Yongdeng and urged their horses on, intending to travel overnight to the market town of Jiangchengzi ahead to find lodging.

As the sun set, it bathed the entire official road in a golden glow.

The outlines of the distant mountains gradually blurred in the twilight, and a cool breeze began to rise, dispelling the heat of the day.

As they were traveling, they heard the sound of rapid hoofbeats ahead.

Two riders came side by side from the main road. Their riding skills were superb and their posture was agile. When they were about ten feet away, they dismounted and respectfully waited by the roadside with their horses in their hands.

Upon closer inspection, everyone recognized them as two of the eight hunters who had killed the Yuan soldiers with arrows that day.

The heroes were both surprised and delighted, and they all dismounted to greet him. The two men walked straight to Zhang Wuji and bowed respectfully.

One of them said loudly:

"My lord admires the benevolence and chivalry of Zhang, the leader of the Ming Cult, and also respects the outstanding talents of all of you heroes. Therefore, I have specially sent me to invite you to my manor to rest your horses. I have prepared a small feast to express my sincere respect."

After speaking, the man tilted his head slightly, his gaze passing over Zhang Wuji and landing on Song Qingshu, who was sitting leisurely on the donkey cart behind him.

The respect on his face visibly faded, and his tone became lukewarm; he only added a sentence out of politeness:

"In addition, we also request that Young Hero Song from the Wudang Sect accompany us."

The disparity in treatment was obvious to everyone present.

Zhou Dian was suppressing a laugh in the back, his shoulders shrugging.

Zhang Wuji quickly returned the greeting, speaking with humility:

"How dare I! How dare I! I witnessed your divine arrows annihilating the enemy and saving the people from suffering that day. You were truly chivalrous and righteous, and worthy of my respect."

May I ask your name and how should I address you? I would be grateful if you could inform me.

The man bowed and said, "My surname is Zhao, and I dare not presume to use my given name."

Seeing that the other party treated them with utmost sincerity and courtesy, everyone felt a sense of goodwill towards them.

Song Qingshu sat on the donkey cart, as steady as an old dog, without making a sound.

Zhang Wuji already greatly admired those nine people and wanted to get to know these heroes, and also find out the origins of the Heaven Sword.

But instead of answering immediately, he turned to look at Song Qingshu on the donkey cart and naturally sought his senior brother's opinion: "Senior brother, what do you think?"

He smiled slightly, nodded to Zhang Wuji, and remained calm.

Seeing his senior brother's approval, Zhang Wuji no longer hesitated, turned around, cupped his hands in greeting to the two men, and smiled:

"Since you are so kind as to extend such hospitality, it would be impolite of us to refuse. We will certainly take the opportunity to trouble your esteemed estate."

The two men looked delighted, bowed again, mounted their horses, and led the way.