Flower Stealing Master-Chapter 499: The Enemies Are Not Invincible

To Huang Rong’s surprise, Song Qingshu did not express any opinion on Meng Bofei’s words. He simply sat there with an enigmatic expression, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

As if it had been prearranged, Situ Bolei of the Wangwu Sect spoke up, “Meng, you are mistaken. Times have changed. This time, we have chosen a new Golden Serpent King precisely to change our situation of hiding and running. If we continue as before, why would we have bothered to elect a new king?”

With Meng Bofei taking the lead, Chu Hongliu felt less apprehensive. She sneered, “Wanting to change the situation must be based on reality. The Qing army now numbers 100,000. If each one spat, we would drown. Choosing to fight head-on without preserving our strength is the act of a reckless fool.”

Huang Rong nodded secretly. Meng Bofei and Chu Hongliu, although their intention was to undermine Song Qingshu’s authority, spoke reasonably. The Golden Serpent Camp had at most 30,000 people, most of whom were a disorganized mob under different leaders, making true cooperation difficult. A direct clash with the Qing army would likely lead to their destruction.

As Huang Rong pondered, Shui Jian could not help but snort, “Every time the Qing soldiers come, we flee. What purpose does the Golden Serpent Camp serve then? Under Young Master Yuan’s leadership, we were formidable! Back then, the Qing soldiers would flee at the sound of our approach. Now, humph!”

Sha Tongtian smirked, “Things are different now. The Golden Serpent Camp isn’t what it used to be.”

Cheng Qingzhu laughed, “The decline of the Golden Serpent Camp, Chief Sha, is something you are most familiar with.”

Sha Tongtian became furious, “What do you mean by that, Cheng?”

Cheng Qingzhu, already at odds with him, was now emboldened by Ah Jiu’s presence. He retorted, “When the news of Young Master Yuan’s death arrived, who started the infighting, causing the factions to kill each other?”

Sha Tongtian’s face turned red, “So, all these years of internal strife are my fault?”

…

The leaders of the Golden Serpent Camp started arguing loudly. Huang Rong glanced at Song Qingshu and saw him still silent, making her nod in approval.

A leader must not reveal their true thoughts immediately, as it can provoke strong opposition, leaving no room for maneuver. The best approach is to leak their intentions through trusted aides, letting the factions argue among themselves, allowing the leader to intervene with a detached stance.

‘Unexpectedly, Song Qingshu is not only skilled in martial arts but also in leadership, much better than Brother Jing in this regard…’

Huang Rong sighed inwardly. Her Brother Jing, with his unique charisma, was not suited for leadership. Not everyone would be selflessly devoted to the nation; many seek beauty, wealth, or fame. Her Brother Jing’s reliance on the vague concept of national duty worked for a short time, but over the years, without Huang Rong’s mediation, many forces in Xiangyang would have rebelled.

Suddenly, Huang Rong was startled. Why had she been comparing Brother Jing to Song Qingshu? Brother Jing was her husband, but what was Song Qingshu to her? Her face turned red, and she seemed to hear someone calling her, “What does Madame Guo think of the current situation?”

“Ah?” Huang Rong came back to her senses and saw everyone in the hall looking at her, feeling flustered.

Song Qingshu, seeing the argument reach its peak, timely intervened and directed the question to Huang Rong. He knew that with her intelligence, she would understand his intentions and not undermine him. Her support, given her reputation in the martial world, would make his actions much easier.

Huang Rong, having been lost in thought, was caught off guard. Fortunately, she was quick-witted and said, “King Xiao has battled the Qing numerous times over the years and is more familiar with their situation. We should first hear King Xiao’s opinion.”

“Chief Huang, you are too modest,” Xiao Feng said politely but then began sharing his thoughts. As a Liao person, he naturally wished for the Qing army to be bogged down here for as long as possible.

“Everyone must have heard the saying, ‘The Jurchens are invincible under ten thousand,’ and according to our intelligence, the Qing army marching south this time consists entirely of the Eight Banners elite soldiers.”

Before Xiao Feng could finish, Chu Hongliu, feeling supported, excitedly said, “I knew it! The Qing army’s strength is beyond our capability. We should plan our retreat.”

Song Qingshu sneered inwardly but maintained a calm exterior, saying, “Let King Xiao finish.”

Chu Hongliu realized she had overstepped. Given Xiao Feng’s status in the martial world and his title as the Southern Court King of Liao, she had no place to interrupt. She awkwardly smiled to cover her embarrassment.

Xiao Feng nodded to Song Qingshu and continued, “If the Eight Banners elite had attacked twenty years ago, I would have advised everyone to pack up and flee.”

Yang Miaozhen, sensing something, asked, “King Xiao, do you mean…?”

“Yes, the Eight Banners soldiers twenty years ago were indeed formidable. But,” Xiao Feng stood up, exuding an aura of dominance, “since the Qing entered the Central Plains, the Eight Banners descendants have indulged in its riches and have long since decayed. Today’s so-called elite Eight Banners cannot compare to Wu Sangui’s Iron Cavalry or even the Jiangnan Green Standard Army. Therefore, although the Qing army seems powerful, the Golden Serpent Camp still has a chance.”

Xiao Feng was puzzled. He had thought Kangxi was a wise and ambitious ruler, but this move seemed foolish. Could it be that living in the deep palace, he was unaware of the current state of the Eight Banners army?

Song Qingshu felt pleased.

The Qing army, composed entirely of Eight Banners soldiers, was a clever ruse he and Dongfang Muxue had devised. Few realized how weak the Eight Banners had become, and even the Qing court believed their elite troops would surely crush the Golden Serpent Camp.

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