Huang Rong from The Return of the Condor Heroes: Brother Jing, let's get a divorce.

The millet porridge was very thick in the morning, and Wang Laosan's wife added a lot of ingredients.

The three of them sat down around the stone table in the courtyard.

Yang Guo drank the porridge with ease, finishing one bowl and then getting another.

Lu Wushuang ate slowly, chewing in small bites.

Chen Ping'an sat opposite him, holding a bowl in his hand, his chopsticks resting on the rim of the bowl without moving.

Yang Guo glanced at it.

This "Brother Chen" washed his face this morning, and the layer of ash on his face was much thinner, making his facial features clearer than yesterday.

Two dark circles hung under his eyes, making his face appear even whiter.

"Brother Chen, aren't you going to drink this porridge?" Yang Guo tapped her bowl with his chopsticks. "Sister-in-law Wang's cooking is quite good; she added red dates."

Chen Pingan lowered his eyes and scooped a spoonful of food into the bowl.

Thank you.

After taking two bites, I stopped eating.

Yang Guo knew what was going on.

A person who hasn't slept soundly all night finds food tasteless.

This person is probably still replaying the commotion from next door last night in their mind.

He didn't ask any more questions and lowered his head to drink his porridge.

Lu Wushuang, however, added, "Young Master Chen, porridge doesn't taste good when it's cold. Enjoy it while it's hot."

Chen Pingan picked up the bowl and drank half of it in silence.

She drank the porridge with restraint, the rim of the bowl only touching her lower lip, slurping silently.

This way of eating has been taught the proper etiquette.

Yang Guo wrote this down in his notebook without saying a word.

After the meal, the three of them set off together.

Yang Guo rode on his horse, and Lu Wushuang sat in front of him.

Chen Ping'an walked on the right side with his book box on his back, his pace neither fast nor slow, just in line with the horse's speed.

After leaving Qingshui Village and heading south, the official road narrows a bit.

The slopes on both sides were covered with thorns and short pines, and the road was scattered with gravel washed down by the flash flood a few days ago, which made a crunching sound when the horses stepped on it.

This area belongs to the northern foothills of the Qinling Mountains.

The mountain is not high, but the terrain is fragmented, with shallow gullies cutting down the slopes and making the road surface bumpy and uneven.

People who are used to walking on the stone-paved roads of Zhongnan Mountain will find it difficult to walk here, but if you go further south and cross two more ridges, you will find the really bad road.

Lu Wushuang was wearing that light blue silk dress today, and the neckline was tied a inch looser than yesterday.

A jade pendant tied with a red string hung around her neck. With the swaying of the horse's back, it would occasionally slip out from her collar, dangle a couple of times below her collarbone, and then retract.

This is what Yang Guo told me last night.

Lu Wushuang didn't understand why, but she did as instructed.

After spending a long time with Yang Guo, she learned a lesson: execute orders you don't understand first, and then think about them later when the results come out. Nine times out of ten, you'll be able to understand them correctly.

The horse lurched, and she leaned back, her back pressed against Yang Guo's chest.

Yang Guo wrapped his arms around her from both sides to hold the reins, pulling her into his embrace.

This posture is exactly the same as yesterday.

The difference today is that there's one more audience member.

Lu Wushuang turned her head and glanced at Chen Ping'an on her right.

The scholar stared straight ahead at the road, his gaze unwavering, without glancing in their direction.

But Lu Wushuang noticed something else. Chen Ping'an's hand, which was gripping the shoulder strap of the book box, was clenched tightly, and the knuckles were taut.

This person heard everything that was going on next door last night.

Lu Wushuang's earlobe burned.

I was ashamed, but another thought overcame my embarrassment.

The scholar has been staring at her legs since yesterday.

Yang Guo said that the person was a woman, and also hinted that she was related to his cousin.

Regardless of whether it's true or false, there's one thing Lu Wushuang sees very clearly.

This person has a reaction to Yang Guo.

When Yang Guo touched someone's teacup in the tea stall, when he put his arm around someone's waist in the threshing ground, there was that line, "Your back is so flexible."

If it were a decent man, he would probably just curse or laugh at it.

But this person's ears turned red.

Lu Wushuang didn't have any ulterior motives, but she had a simple principle ingrained in her bones: she shouldn't let others covet what was hers.

The horse bounced again.

Lu Wushuang didn't move forward; instead, she leaned back, resting the back of her head on Yang Guo's shoulder. She stretched out her right hand and placed it on the back of Yang Guo's hand holding the reins, her fingers interlocking with his.

"My lord, your hands are cold."

Yang Guo raised an eyebrow.

Should he be called "husband" in front of outsiders?

When did this girl change her personality?

He glanced to the right.

Chen Ping'an's steps faltered, and his left foot stepped on a piece of gravel, causing his ankle to twist and almost sprain.

Yang Guo understood.

This girl is asserting her sovereignty.

"If your hands are cold, put them in your pocket." He cooperated perfectly, freeing his left hand to pull Lu Wushuang's hand and tuck it into his own pocket.

Her palm was pressed against his chest, and through his inner garment, she could feel his heartbeat.

Lu Wushuang blushed, but the corners of her mouth turned up.

Chen Ping'an walked beside him, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Her steps regained their balance, and her breathing became even. But the red stain ran from her ears all the way down to her collar.

Yang Guo took all of this in without saying a word.

After walking for about half an hour, we arrived at a fork in the mountain path.

To the left is the official road, which makes a large bend southward.

There is a narrow mountain path on the right. It cuts down the slope through a pine forest, saving you two hours of walking.

"Go to the right." Yang Guo's tone left no room for discussion.

Chen Ping'an stood at the fork in the road and looked at the road on the right.

The pine forest was so dense that the road was covered with a thick layer of pine needles, making it impossible to see whether the soil underneath was hard or soft.

"Do many people walk this road?" she asked.

"The trails used by porters and hunters. They should be dry now that the rainy season is over last month, so they're not slippery."

Before coming to Chang Le Town, Yang Guo had asked Liu Cunhou's men about the road conditions, so he had a general idea of ​​what was going on.

The mountain road was indeed narrow.

The narrowest part was only wide enough for one horse to pass through, with waist-high bushes on both sides. The pine needles were soft and spongy underfoot, carrying a damp, musty smell.

The mountain roads in the Qinling Mountains are different from those in the Zhongnan Mountains.

The Quanzhen Sect has been operating in the Zhongnan Mountains for decades. The main road is paved with stone slabs, and the drainage ditches are neatly dug.

This is a rough, unpaved path. After the rainy season, landslides and collapses are everywhere, and you can see the road shoulders washed away by water every few steps.

Chen Ping'an walked behind the horse, three or four steps behind Yang Guo.

She changed the position of the strap on her bookcase, moving it from her right shoulder to her left shoulder, freeing up her right hand to hang at her side, neither too close nor too far from the hilt of her sword.

This is the instinctive reaction of a martial artist in unfamiliar terrain.

Yang Guo saw this and then probed the issue with words.

"Brother Chen, which road did you come from?"

"Crossing the Wuguan Pass."

Wuguan.

Yang Guo drew a line in his mind.

Wuguan Pass is located southeast of Shangluo and is another route connecting Guanzhong to Jingxiang.

Heading northwest from Wuguan, passing through Lantian and Huxian, you'll reach the foot of Zhongnan Mountain.

This direction is from south to north.

If this person is indeed Cheng Ying, the route from Peach Blossom Island, taking the waterway to Xiangyang, and then crossing Wuguan Pass to enter Guanzhong makes sense.

"Is there any blockade at Wuguan?"

Chen Ping'an paused for a moment.

"It's been set up. It's newly set up, with few staff, so the checks aren't strict. Passing caravans are let through once they pay the silver."

"How much?"

"Ten taels of goods per cart, two taels per individual passenger."

Yang Guo did some mental calculations.

Between Wuguan and Nanyang, there are several passes in between.

By setting up checkpoints and collecting silver along the way, the Mongols essentially controlled the entire trade route from Jingzhou and Xiangyang to Guanzhong.

With caravan profits being slashed by 30-40%, over time, fewer and fewer merchants will be willing to run this route.

With the trade routes cut off, communication between Guanzhong and Xiangyang also ceased.

"Thank you." Yang Guo nodded and didn't pursue the matter any further.

The horses in front stopped.

A fallen pine tree lay across the middle of the road, its trunk as thick as a water bucket, blocking the way. The broken ends were blackened, indicating it had been fallen for some time.

Yang Guo dismounted. Lu Wushuang followed him down and stood to one side.

"I'll move it."

He walked to the tree trunk, bent down, and gripped the bark with both hands.

The primordial energy rises from the dantian, travels halfway along the Hand Yangming Large Intestine Meridian, and flows into both arms, fueled by internal energy.

He yanked up a pine tree weighing three or four hundred pounds, flipped it over the road, and smashed it into the bushes next to him. Pine needles fell in a flurry, and several sparrows scattered in fright.

His arms had no bulging muscles, and his movements were uneventful, as if he were carrying a bench.

Chen Ping'an stood behind watching, his hand gripping the shoulder strap clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

When she was learning martial arts on Peach Blossom Island, her master mentioned that when one's internal strength reaches a certain level, one's every move exudes an aura, and one doesn't need to put on airs; others can tell how deep one's internal strength is just by looking at them.

This guy surnamed Yang has that kind of influence.

Yang Guo patted the crumbs off his hands, turned around and smiled at Chen Ping'an.

"Brother Chen, there's a downhill section ahead, and the road is very slippery. Would you like to get on the horse? The three of us can squeeze in, just barely enough room."

Chen Pingan shook his head. "No need."

"Don't mention it. You didn't sleep well last night, and you walked so far today. You're not up to the task. Falling down a slope is no joke."

"My stamina is still acceptable."

There was a stubborn streak in his tone. Yang Guo recognized this stubbornness. It was exactly the same as when Lu Wushuang had just been subdued by him; the more uneasy a person was, the less willing they were to back down even a step in terms of pride.

He shrugged and didn't press the matter further.

Lu Wushuang then bent down to pick up the water pouch that had fallen to the ground.

She bent over more deeply, her collar opened wider, and the jade pendant around her neck slid out along the red string, shimmering in the sunlight.

The jade pendant is small, about the size of a thumbnail, and is translucent green. It has an orchid carved on the front and the character "英" (Ying) engraved on the back.

That character faces outwards.

Chen Ping'an's gaze fell on the jade pendant.

Her steps were frozen in place.

It felt like someone had pulled me from behind, causing me to lean forward slightly before abruptly stopping, and the box of books swayed twice on my back.

Lu Wushuang picked up the water pouch, straightened up, and the jade pendant slipped back into her collar. She didn't notice anything amiss, unscrewed the pouch, took two sips, and handed it to Yang Guo.

Yang Guo took the water pouch and glanced at Chen Ping'an's face out of the corner of his eye.

That one glance is enough.

The scholar's face remained expressionless. But beneath the flat skin at the location of her Adam's apple, she swallowed three times in a row.

Swallowing. Only lecherous people swallow.